I grabbed him by the collar, fingers curling into the soft fabric and dragging him forward until our noses touched. “Mine,” I growled.
Then I kissed him.
If Dalton was fire, Derrick was lightning.
His mouth clashed with mine, wild and unfiltered. He moaned into the kiss, like he hadn’t known how badly he needed it until I gave it to him.
I bit his lip-hard-tasting blood and defiance and something raw between us. His hands fisted in the sheets, but I didn’t let up. I kissed him like I was making up for every second of hesitation, every breath I’d spent holding back, every fear I’d swallowed since this whole godsdamned bond started.
I rocked my hips again-backward this time-grinding against Dalton’s shaft still trapped beneath me, the friction sharp and maddening.
Derrick groaned against my mouth. Dalton growled behind me. I could feel both their heartbeats, thunder and war drums in stereo around me.
And for the first time in weeks-maybe ever-I didn’t feel torn between them.
I felt powerful.
In control.
Alive.
I was the storm.
Their hands moved together, syncing without even trying-Dalton gripping my hips, Derrick sliding a hand to the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. They weren’t touching each other- yet-but they were touching me, and that was enough to braid the three of us into something electric.
I pulled back from Derrick, both of us gasping, lips swollen, eyes locked like we’d just torn open the sky and dared it to rain.
His chest heaved with every breath, dark eyes wild and dazed. My nails were still buried in the collar of his shirt, my legs shaking from how tightly I’d clenched them around Dalton. The air smelled like heat and lightning, arousal and instinct.
“You okay, little mouse?” Derrick asked, voice husky, rough around the edges. It didn’t come out cocky like usual-it came out worshipful.
“I’m better than okay,” I breathed, my voice thick, dark, dangerous. “But I’m not done.”
And I meant it.
Every cell in my body was still buzzing-with need, with power, with this pulse that tied the three of us together in something deep and raw and beautiful.
But then I felt it.
The heat of their fangs.
Dalton’s breath hitched behind me. Derrick’s jaw flexed. I could feel the tension in the room twist into something sharper. Instinct.
My hand rose to my neck slowly-like I already knew what I’d find-and yep. There it was. My fangs were out. Not only mine though.
Three of us.
All with fangs out.
Ready to mark.
The realization cracked through me like ice water.
Shit.
My heart stuttered.
“I…” I blinked, the rush of heat draining from my face. “Fuck. I didn’t even notice…”
“Yeah,” Derrick said softly, backing off just enough to give me space, though his eyes never left mine. “That’s kinda why we need to stop.”
Dalton groaned, dragging a hand through his hair like he was in physical pain from the restraint.
Derrick leaned in again, one hand sliding up my spine. “We’re not marking you, Kai. Not yet. Not until your birthday.”
My throat bobbed. “Neither of you?”
Dalton’s voice was strained, but firm. “Neither.”
I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close we’d come to crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
“Sorry,” I muttered, hating how small my voice sounded. “I just… I got caught up in the moment.”
It was the truth-but it still stung.
I didn’t regret it. Not the kissing. Not the way I’d taken control. Not the way their hands trembled on my skin like I was sacred.
But having to stop when it had just started? When every nerve ending screamed for more?
That left a sour note of disappointment in my chest.
Derrick must’ve seen it-because the next second, that slow, wicked smirk of his returned,
curling like smoke across his face.
“I said no marking,” he murmured, leaning close again, his lips brushing mine, “no mating…”
His fingers slipped down to the hem of my shirt, knuckles grazing my stomach.
“But I didn’t say we couldn’t fool around a bit… did I?”
My breath caught.
He slid one arm under my thighs and the other behind my back, flipping me onto the bed so fast I gasped, landing on my back with a bounce and a squeak that was half-surprise, half-anticipation.
Then he climbed over me, eyes molten, grin predatory.
“Now…” he growled, caging me between his arms as he settled between my legs, “be a good girl…”
His voice dipped lower, darker, velvet wrapped in steel.
“And spread your legs, little mouse.”
My thighs trembled, heat pooling low in my belly as his breath ghosted over my skin.
“I need my breakfast.”
I caught movement in the corner of my eye-Dalton, kneeling beside the bed now, one hand curling in my hair to tug it gently to the side, exposing my throat.
“Go on,” he rasped, eyes locked on mine. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
Goddess.
DALTON POV
*Warning: sexually explicit content ahead. If you’re 18+, you’re welcome to dive in – maybe pour yourself a glass of wine and let Beautiful Things by Benson Boone set the mood.*
She was going to kill me.
That was the only thought I could hold on to-barely-as her mouth ravaged mine like she owned every part of me.
Because she did.
My Goddess. My damnation. My salvation. All wrapped in a little blonde body with a temper like a wildfire and lips that tasted like sin and lightning.
When she kissed me, the world blurred. Became heat and motion and scent and raw fucking need.
And when she rocked her hips-grinding herself against me while kissing Derrick like that?
I nearly lost it.
My shaft was already hard-so hard it hurt. Boxers useless, c**k twitching, pulsing against the thin barrier of my sweats like it was trying to break free. And that little minx had the audacity to press down on me, tease me, use me as her godsdamn throne while she claimed another mouth like she had all the time in the world.
Fuck.
She didn’t even know what she was doing to me. Or maybe she did.
Because the second she moaned-that sound, fuck me-I felt my wolf surge forward, instinct burning through my blood. My gums ached. My vision flashed.
And then Derrick said it.
Fangs.
My breath hitched.
I pulled back, fingers gripping the edge of the mattress, trying to stay grounded, but I could
feel them. Canines out. Shade pushed to the surface, our shared need to claim taking control before I even realized it.
She was right there. Right fucking there. Her scent was wrapped around me, warm and dark and rich with arousal. My body knew what it wanted. What it needed.
To bite.
To mark.
To sink my fangs into her neck and seal our bond for good.
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