by Sadie Moss
Callum lets out a low, dangerous growl, gripping me by both arms as he jerks me against his body. “I own a piece of your soul.”
“That doesn’t mean you own me!” I snap. I’m lightheaded by his nearness, by the possessive way he’s dragged me into his heady embrace. Anger and desire war within me, and I fight against his hold. I need some space between us, room to think with the more logical parts of my body. Because this close to him, all logic flees my mind.
Lacking any non-violent way to get the upper hand, I stomp down his shin. My boot slices down his leg, and I end with a blow to his foot that takes all my body weight.
Callum hisses in pain and involuntarily releases my arms, giving me the opening I need to rush away from him.
But I don’t get very far.
I catch a glimpse of Echo and Paris watching quietly from just inside the door, and then Callum’s hand fists the back of my new dress. He yanks me toward him again, none too gently.
I struggle against his hold, wildly slapping and hitting at him. But it’s all in vain—he spins me around to face him, and his strong fingers curl around my wrists, stopping my flailing hands before I can even try to scratch his eyes out with my fingernails. He drags me even closer until we’re pressed together from thighs to breasts.
His eyes gleam like preternatural flames as his gaze consumes me, devouring me, burning me up.
“None of those men will ever have you,” he rasps.
I gape at him. The anger boiling inside me shifts into something else as I finally grasp the full reason for his behavior downstairs. For the way he reverted back to the dominating, callous man he seemed when I first met him.
He was jealous.
Jealous of another man wanting me.
Even a sloppy drunk of a human who couldn’t pose a threat to Callum and his brothers on his best day.
I sag against the massive warrior with an incredulous, almost bitter laugh. “Are you insane? I don’t want any of those men, you idiot. I don’t want anyone but you. All three of you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I curse myself inwardly, wishing I could rewind time enough to take every syllable back.
The messengers have to know my feelings by now. They must. I’ve kissed them all, for nish’s sake, and they have to see how I look at them, how I constantly find excuses to be near them. But even if my behavior was completely obvious, there was some comfort in never having spoken of it aloud.
I can’t take it back. I can’t undo what I’ve said. So I screw my courage tight and dragging my gaze from Callum, glancing over my shoulder to Echo and Paris.
“You’re the only men I ever think about,” I murmur, my voice blunt and quiet. “The only men I want.”
Silence hangs between us, and I hold my breath as I turn back to watch Callum’s expression. I can’t believe I’ve finally admitted this out loud, not just to myself but to the three of them. I feel bold and reckless, anticipation weighing heavily on me.
What if he rejects me? It could very well be that Callum doesn’t want me—he just wants to control me, to control what I do and who I do it with.
But then… something shifts in the air. The flames that have been raging in his emerald eyes change, morphing from anger to lust.
I’ve barely identified the shift before our lips crash together.
The kiss is hard and deep, taking my breath away in its intensity. Callum doesn’t release his bruising grip on my wrists, and he remains in charge of the kiss, possessive, controlling even as I feel like every ounce of my own control is washing away against him.
I move into him, pressing against his iron-like grip on me so that I can feel his body against mine. His arousal is evident as his cock presses into my lower belly, and a thrill lances through me at the feel of his hard length.
But just like it always does, Callum’s grip tightens just as I’m on the precipice of everything I want. His body stiffens, and he shoves me away. His face, only moments ago stark with desire, has closed up. He’s gone cold and emotionless, exactly as he did when we kissed in the woods.
No. No, farse it, no!
I refuse to let him do this again. I’ve already admitted I want them. And I know that at least a part of them must feel the same way toward me. It’s time to admit just how badly I need them. Because if I walk away from this situation without fighting for what I want, I’ll always regret it.
“All I can think about is being with you,” I say, the words rushing from me. There’s a breathless note to my voice, leftover from the ravages of his kiss. “I’ve never wanted something so badly in all my life. Just being around you is painful—physically painful—because I always have to hold myself back. I want to touch you. To feel your hands on my body. Every second of every day, it’s what I want.”
I glance over his shoulder and find Echo’s eyes glittering in the fading daylight. My mind shifts back to the moment the two of us shared in the woods while we were hunting, and a shiver pours through my body, making my lower half throb.
“I don’t know if it’s because you each have a part of my soul,” I admit in a low voice. “Quite frankly, I don’t care if that’s why. Because it’s become so much more than that soul connection for me. You’ve saved my life. You’ve saved my people. You risked everything for me, and you’ve become everything to me.”
Echo’s lips part, his dark eyes turning to deep chocolate pools. His hands twitch, and I can tell he wants to come to me. Paris’s blue eyes have darkened with the same desire that swirls in Echo’s.
But nobody moves.
We’re all waiting.
Waiting on Callum to storm off… or succumb.
I hold my breath. So much time passes that I need to breathe again. My lungs press against my rib cage, desperate for air, but I deny them. I’ll wait for just a few more seconds. If I wait, maybe his cold face will change, maybe he’ll react, maybe he’ll do something.
Please. Do something.
When I’m lightheaded from lack of oxygen, Callum grabs the front of my dress and yanks me back into his arms.
I gasp into his kiss, my brain still a half second behind my body as I try to wrap my head around the fact that this is really happening. My mouth doesn’t have the same lag as my mind though, and I’m already kissing him back fiercely, my tongue tangling with his, tasting the mead that lingers on his lips.
This kiss is different than any Callum and I have ever shared.
For as long as I’ve known him, the stoic warrior has seemed to fight against the pull between us, keeping walls around his heart that seemed impossible to scale. Even when he did touch me, even when he touched himself as he gazed at an image of me, those things felt like momentary lapses, cracks in his fortifications that he cursed himself for later.
There has always been a part of him that’s held back.
Until now.
There’s nothing but raw, pure need in his kiss now, and the wave of emotion that pours through the bond we share is a dizzying feeling.
His lips don’t just explore mine—they conquer mine, as if they’re claiming everything the broad-shouldered man has been yearning to take for too long. But he’s not taking anything. I’m giving it to him. More willingly than I’ve ever given anything in my life.
My hands reach up to thread through his thick, silken hair as I pull his head closer to mine, rising up onto my tiptoes to press more of my body against his. He growls against my lips when I fist the strands and tug lightly, and the masculine sound makes my core throb.
It’s a farsing good thing I’m already dead, because if I wasn’t, this kiss might kill me.
I’m lost in it, completely absorbed by the feel of Callum indulging in our shared craving over and over again.
But then gentle fingertips trail down the side of my neck, sweeping across my shoulders to move my tumbling hair out of the way. My heart beats harder in my chest as my awareness expands, and I realize that the two other men in the room have approached
us, coming to stand on either side of me so that I’m surrounded by the three of them.
Paris’s lips graze the bare skin of my neck, and the fresh new surge of sensation that tears through my body threatens to buckle my knees. When Echo’s hand trails over the curve of my lower back, I whimper into Callum’s mouth.
Memories of the moment we shared in the cabin after they saved my village rush through my mind. They surrounded me then too, nearly holding up my smaller body between their three larger ones, and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before.
Letting those memories give me courage to act on my desires, I pull my lips away from Callum and turn my head to find Echo ready and waiting. Before I even have to ask, he’s kissing me just as fervently as his brother was, his hand moving lower to shamelessly grope my ass as his tongue slides inside my mouth. Callum’s large hand finds my breast through the fabric of my dress, kneading my aching flesh as I arch into his touch.
When Paris bites down gently on the curve of my shoulder, I let out a startled, breathy cry. A flood of wetness dampens my panties, and my knees finally do give out.
Not that it matters.
With three massive warriors holding me up on all sides, I could faint completely and my body would still never touch the floor.
“We’ve got you, little soul,” Echo murmurs, his grip tightening on me as he nips at my bottom lip. “We won’t let go.”
“The bed,” Callum grunts out, and the rough scrape of his voice makes my stomach clench, heat pooling inside me.
The men move as swiftly and gracefully as they always do, and a moment later, I find myself lifted from Callum’s embrace and laid down gently on the middle of the bed. The rest of the room seems to swirl around us as my gaze focuses on the three messengers who all crawl onto the mattress after me.
There’s something hungry and intense in their eyes, and it makes me feel a little like prey—vulnerable, exposed, and so small compared to their dominant power.
But I’m not afraid.
If they’re hunters, I want to be hunted.
Paris and Echo are on either side of me, and Callum’s large body hovers above mine, the three of them eclipsing everything else.
“Farse, you’re beautiful, Sage.” Tendrils of his long brown hair brush against my cheek as he brings his face closer to mine. I can sense the tension in his body, but it’s not coming from an attempt to hold back this time. It’s almost as if he’s desperate to make this moment last, to drag each second out beyond what time will allow.
“You are too,” I murmur back, because it’s true. I’m not sure how much the massive warrior will appreciate being called beautiful, but it’s the best word there is to describe his powerful, lethal grace and the strong lines of his nose and jaw.
But he doesn’t seem put out or offended at all. Instead, his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate. He drops his head once more to kiss me again, his hard cock pressing against me as he settles some of his weight against me—not enough to crush me, but enough to make me feel pleasantly grounded against the dizzying effect of his kiss.
When he draws back, a growl rumbles in his chest. “Nish, I can’t get enough. I have to taste you.”
I’m only too willing to comply, and I attempt to sit up on the bed, lifting my head as I move to kiss him again. But Callum pulls back even farther, and Echo and Paris catch me with gentle hands on my shoulders, pressing me back down to the mattress.
“That’s not what he means, Sage,” Echo murmurs, heat darkening his deep brown eyes.
Not what he means…?
My brows pull together in confusion for a moment, but then I feel Callum’s hand slide down the outside of my leg. My skirt is a barrier between his skin and mine, but I still feel the heat of his palm as it travels down toward my ankle, and my breath hitches.
“Do you trust us, little soul?”
Paris’s voice is a low lilt, and when my gaze flies from Callum to him, I find him watching me intently, as if my answer will decide the fate of his very soul.
But there’s no hesitation on my part. There’s really not even a question.
“Yes.”
My body is burning as if I’ve been struck by lightning, and nerves make my chest rise and fall fast. But I want this. Anything and everything these men plan to do to me, I want it all.
Callum makes another almost animalistic noise at my response, and as if he’s been waiting for permission, his hand slips under the fabric of my skirt, retracing the path it just took down my left leg.
As he works his way back up my limb, his bare skin sliding across mine, I reach out to either side desperately, as if I’m afraid the onslaught of sensations will splinter me into pieces.
Two large hands take mine, and Paris and Echo grip me tightly as Callum brings his other hand up my right leg, pushing the fabric of my skirt up and out of the way as his touch glides over my knees, my thighs… my hips.
Cool air makes goose bumps dance across my skin, and Callum rests his hands on my hips for a moment, letting all of us adjust to the fact that my lower half is now nearly bare.
Paris and Echo are devouring me with their gazes, and as Callum traces his fingers over the soft cotton of my panties, the blond messenger by my side leans closer to brush his lips against the shell of my ear.
“When he touches you, Sage… when you feel what it does to you… kiss me. Let me feel it in you.”
I blink up Echo, then down at Callum. His large body has settled between my legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his form, and as I watch, two large fingers hook the crotch of my panties and tug the fabric to the side.
Then he drops his head and runs his tongue up the length of my folds.
A strangled noise gets stuck in my throat as my whole body reacts to the feel of him there. His warm, wet tongue. His breath. The soft scrape of his stubble.
It’s too much. It’s too much.
The pleasure that ricochets through me needs an outlet, so I turn my head and find Paris’s lips with my own.
And just as he commanded, I let him feel me. I let him feel every sensation that’s tearing through my body, kissing him with hard strokes of my tongue as my hips buck and writhe under Callum’s touch. The warrior between my legs laps at me as if I taste better than he ever imagined, dragging his tongue over my clit before swirling it in circles around the hard nub, making me chase the pleasure that he’s teasing me with.
I’m panting, gasping into Paris’s mouth, my head lifting from the bed as my thighs try to close around Callum’s head.
His strong hands stop me, holding me open for him as he closes his mouth over my clit and flicks his tongue back and forth.
I yelp. The new sensation is so intense it borders both pleasure and pain—and I desperately crave more.
“Give your need to Echo now, little soul. Let him feel what you feel,” Paris whispers as our kiss finally breaks. His lips are swollen and red, just like I’m sure mine are, and the sight of him mussed and tousled like this makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
He looks like this because of me. I made him this way.
He smiles at me, his face only a few inches from mine. Then he presses a knuckle to the line of my jaw, urging me to turn my head. When I do, Echo is waiting for me.
I don’t hesitate. I just lean toward him and kiss him with everything I have, letting myself get lost in the rapturous wonder of touching all three of these men at once. I’ve lost the hands that once gripped mine so tight, but I haven’t lost their touch. Fingers and palms trace pathways across my body that leave fire in their wake, roaming over my hips and the plane of my stomach, delving beneath the neckline of my dress to massage my full, needy breasts.
I never want this to end, I realize.
I could happily stay suspended in this moment forever, riding the wave of the ecstasy these men are unleashing inside me.
But of course as soon as I have that thought, the pleasure building inside me snaps like a bowstring stretched too tau
t. Tingles spread through me, sensation radiating from my clit all the way out to the tips of my fingers and toes, melting my bones and my muscles, tearing me apart at the seams.
I hook a hand around the back of Echo’s neck, shoving my tongue into his mouth like I’m trying to eat him alive as Callum does something similar down below, stiffening his tongue and slipping it inside me, making my inner walls spasm around him.
“Oh, nish!”
The curse falls from me on a ragged breath as my body goes rigid, my heart slamming so hard against my chest that I think it might crash through my ribs.
Somewhere in the middle of my orgasm, I grabbed on to Paris too, and as I blink the lingering stars from my eyes, I see him and Echo staring down at me with a mixture of desire and tenderness that makes me flush.
I look down the line of my body. My dress is still on—technically. But my breasts are half out, the neckline pushed low to give the men access to more of my skin. My skirt is bunched up around my waist, and although I’ve got panties on, Callum is still holding the fabric to one side, exposing my swollen, pulsing sex to his hungry gaze.
I’ve never felt more exposed than I do in this moment.
And I’ve never felt more beautiful.
As if to validate my thoughts, Callum presses a kiss to my sensitive clit, his lips making little aftershocks shoot through me.
“That was… the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Echo finally says, his voice a little raspy. My fingers are threaded through the hair at the back of his neck, and he pulls my hand away to kiss my fingers. “You’re beautiful, Sage. You’re so farsing beautiful.”
“Thank you for trusting us,” Paris adds, nuzzling his nose against my cheek.
Callum’s eyes blaze with fire as he looks up at me. “Little soul, I—”
But I never get to hear the end of that thought.
Before he can finish speaking, a cacophony of shouts suddenly breaks through the quiet that surrounds us. Muffled yells drifts up from downstairs, followed by several crashes that shake the floor.
