Chapter 75
Kara
"Welcome to your home for the week, Luna," Asher says softly, his ebony-and-tobacco scent wrapping around me like a possessive hand.
Home. The word still feels foreign. But here, thousands of miles from the cold steel cage of Midnight Estate, surrounded by the warmth of jasmine and ocean salt—maybe I can believe it.
"I'm going to shower," I say, needing space to process. "The flight left me..."
Aroused. Wet. Desperate for their touch.
"...tired," I finish lamely.
Cole's mint-and-ozone scent sharpens with concern. "Of course, Baby. Your room is upstairs—first door on the left. We had the staff stock it with everything you might need."
Blake's gunpowder scent flares hot. "Kara. Look at me."
I turn. His blue eyes have that molten quality—half human, half wolf.
"You're not 'tired,'" he says bluntly. "You're scared. Of us. Of this." He gestures at the three of them, at the villa, at the impossibly blue ocean beyond. "But you don't need to be. We'll go at your pace. Always."
My throat tightens. "And if my pace is... never?"
"Then we wait forever," Asher says immediately. "But I don't think that's what you want."
He's right. God help me, he's right.
My wolf is screaming for them—has been since the plane, since the car, since Blake carried me over the threshold like I already belonged to them.
"Six-thirty," Asher continues. "Dinner on the lanai. Dress however makes you comfortable."
---
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror as the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, staring at the white halter sundress Sophia packed. The fabric is thin cotton gauze, the kind that moves with every breath. It leaves my shoulders and most of my back bare, the neckline a deep V that stops just above my breasts.
This is insane. I look like I'm trying to seduce them.
But when I reach for the jeans instead, my hand stops.
Maybe I am.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, it sends a pulse of heat straight to my core.
I slip on the dress. It falls to mid-thigh, swirling around my legs like water. I leave my hair loose—the golden curls Sophia spent an hour perfecting now slightly wild from the humid air.
No makeup. No armor.
Just... me.
When I walk out onto the lanai, all three of them freeze.
Blake is holding a platter of grilled mahi-mahi. It wobbles in his hands. "Holy fuck."
"Blake," Asher warns, but his own voice is rough, his eyes tracking my every movement like I'm prey.
Cole just stares, his mint scent turning sweeter, headier. He licks his lips slowly. "You're going to kill us, aren't you, Luna?"
"I'm just... it's just a dress." But my cheeks are burning.
"Princess," Blake growls, setting down the platter before he drops it. "If you think that's 'just a dress,' you have no idea what you do to us."
Asher's jaw clenches. "Sit. Now. Before I do something we'll all regret."
The table is set on the outdoor terrace, lit by tiki torches and the golden light of sunset. The smell of grilled fish, coconut rice, and mango salsa mixes with their scents—gunpowder and leather, ebony and tobacco, mint and ozone.
And underneath it all, my own white musk and fresh snow scent is changing. Sweetening. Like overripe fruit about to burst.
Cole pulls out my chair. His hand lingers on my bare shoulder, fingers tracing the curve where my neck meets my collarbone. "So soft..."
I shiver. Not from cold.
"Drink this." He hands me a cocktail in a carved coconut shell—pale orange liquid garnished with a paper umbrella and a slice of pineapple. "Mai Tai. I made it myself."
When I take it from him, his fingers curl around my wrist, thumb pressing against my pulse point. He holds it there for two heartbeats, feeling the rapid thump-thump-thump that gives away my arousal.
"Your heart is racing, little Luna." His voice drops to a purr. "Are you nervous? Or excited?"
"Both," I whisper.
"Good." He releases my wrist slowly, dragging his fingertips along the inside of my forearm. "I want you to feel everything tonight."
---
The food is incredible—tender fish that flakes apart at the touch of a fork, rice infused with coconut milk and ginger, salsa so fresh it tastes like sunshine.
But I barely taste any of it.
Because Blake has moved his chair closer to mine. His thigh presses against mine under the table, the heat of him burning through the thin cotton of my dress.
"You like the shrimp?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.
I take a bite, and the burst of coconut and lime makes me hum in pleasure, my eyes closing involuntarily.
Blake goes rigid beside me.
When I open my eyes, all three of them are staring at me with identical expressions of barely restrained hunger.
"That sound," Blake growls. "Make it again."
"I didn't—"
"You did." He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. "You hummed. Like you were coming. And now all I can think about is what other sounds you'll make when I'm buried between your thighs, licking you until you scream my name."
"Blake!" My face is on fire.
"What? It's true." His hand lands on my bare knee under the table. "You have no idea how hard I am right now, Princess. How much I want to bend you over this table and—"
"Enough," Asher cuts in sharply. But his own pupils are dilated, his breathing uneven. "We agreed to go slow."
"I am going slow." Blake's thumb starts drawing circles on my inner knee, each pass inching higher. "If I were going fast, she'd already be naked and spread out on this table for me to feast on."
I should tell him to stop.
Instead, I take another sip of my Mai Tai—the alcohol making my head swim pleasantly—and let my thighs fall slightly apart.
Blake's hand moves higher. "That's it, Baby. Let me in."
Across from me, Asher's knuckles are white where they grip his fork. "Kara. Tell him to stop if you want him to stop."
Do I want him to stop?
My wolf is howling no, no, MORE.
"I don't want him to stop," I hear myself say.
The words hang in the humid air like a detonation.
Then Cole is standing, moving to kneel beside my chair. "Do you know what you're saying, little Luna?"
"Yes." My voice shakes, but I don't take it back.
Blake's hand slides higher, fingers now tracing the hem of my dress where it's ridden up to reveal the top of my thigh. "Say it clearly. What do you want?"
"I want..." I swallow hard. "I want you to touch me."
"Where?" His fingers pause, just centimeters from where I'm aching for him. "Be specific."
Heat floods my face. "You know where."
"Say it." Asher's voice is pure Alpha command now, laced with so much dominance that my body responds instinctively—my back arching, my thighs spreading wider. "We want to hear you say the words, Kara."
"I want you to touch..." I can barely breathe. "Touch my... between my legs. Please."
Blake's answering groan is guttural. "Good girl."
But he doesn't move his hand higher. Instead, he stands abruptly, pulling me to my feet with him. "Change of plans. We're going swimming."