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“I want to feel it tomorrow,” I shoot back, already reaching for the next button. “Every bruise. Every ache. I want Victor to see your marks on my skin like the badges they are. I want him to know that I may be coming to him to sell myself, but he can’t take away what we have together.”

Oz moves with a calm, dangerous precision that makes my pulse skip every time. He slips in behind me on the bed, rough palms sliding beneath the hem of my blouse to stroke bare skin, claiming territory inch by inch.

“If we’re giving Victor’s little spy a show,” he murmurs against my neck, breath hot and full of promise, “we might as well make it unforgettable.”

His mouth finds the spot just below my ear, tongue flicking, teeth sinking in. I gasp, hips twitching. At the same moment, Zaire’s mouth crashes into mine, devouring me. I’m caught between them—one branding my skin, the other stealing breath like it belongs to him.

My body lights up like dry tinder, nerve endings sparking, blood roaring.

Talon watches, still as a blade. Then he moves, silent and sure, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. His touch traces a path up my calves, deliberate, spreading me open as he pushes my skirt higher with maddening control.

“Last chance, princess,” he murmurs, his fingers teasing slow circles just shy of where I burn. “Because once I start tasting you, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking so hard you forget your own fucking name.”

I rip my mouth from Z’s, gasping, a raw tremor ripping down my spine like lightning.

“I’m not backing out,” I snarl, my voice thick with need. “I want all of you. Mouths. Cocks. Hands. I want to feel everything. Take me. Break me. Make me yours.”

Talon’s smile is pure sin. “Then hold on tight, baby. Because we’re going to take you apart.”

Zaire’s fingers make quick work of the buttons I’d left undone, tearing the blouse open with a controlled urgency that sends a jolt straight to my core. The fabric slips from my body and hits the floor, leaving me half-naked between three men who look like they’re ready to devour me.

Oz’s hands slide around from behind, fingers sinking into the lace of my bra as he palms my breasts with a possessive hunger. His thumbs roll over my nipples until they’re stiff and aching, the rough drag of lace only heightening the sensitivity. I arch into his touch with a needy gasp, and Z steals the sound from my lips with another punishing kiss.

Below, Talon’s fingers hook into my panties and drag them down my legs at a torturous pace. The air hits my soaked skin, and I shiver, exposed, open, throbbing. He spreads my thighs wide, slow and deliberate, like he’s peeling me apart just to savor the view.

“Let’s give Sergei something to jerk off to,” Talon mutters, his breath searing against the inside of my thigh. His gaze locks with mine, and then he dives in.

The first stroke of his tongue wrecks me. My back arches, head dropping against Oz’s shoulder as a helpless cry escapes me. Talon doesn’t ease in. He feasts. Tongue fucking me with ruthless precision, lips dragging over every slick inch, building pressure fast and sharp.

Z’s mouth trails down my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive column before he bites down on the spot that turns my legs to liquid. Behind me, my bra slips free with a flick of his fingers, and then Oz is back, his touch rougher now, tweaking my nipples until I’m gasping, spine arching toward him.

“You feel that?” Oz rasps against my ear, his breath hot and uneven, fingers rolling and tugging without mercy. “That’s what it’s like when you belong to us. Every fucking inch of you—shaking, dripping, begging for more.”

I can’t form words. I’m too far gone, lost in the collision of mouths and touch.

I’m surrounded, drowning in sensation. Talon’s mouth between my thighs, wicked and relentless. Z’s lips mapping my collarbone, each kiss a brand. Oz molding my breasts to his palms, his teeth grazing my earlobe. Every nerve sparks. Every inch of me burns.

“Look at you,” Zaire rasps, lifting his head just enough to watch my face twist with pleasure. “This is what it looks like when your kings worship their queen.”

Talon’s tongue is merciless, circling my clit with slow, lethal precision. No teasing. No hesitation. Just a calculated unraveling. He grips my thighs tightly, fingers digging into soft flesh to hold me wide open, forcing me to take it all, every flick, every devastating stroke of his tongue.

I grind down on his mouth, chasing the high with reckless need. Greedy. Wild.

Behind me, Oz and Z touch like they’re mapping me. brush of fingers down my sides, each graze of knuckles over my breasts sending jolts of heat straight to where Talon is wrecking me.

“Tell us what you need, solnishko,” Oz breathes into my ear, voice a wicked promise. His teeth scrape along the sensitive line of my neck, and I shudder. Pleasure pulses low and deep, close to boiling over.

“More,” I gasp, dragging him closer. “I need more. I need all of you.”

Z’s mouth finds the corner of mine, lips curving into a wolfish smile. “Our queen has spoken.”

And they move, focused on me like soldiers trained to tear me apart. My body is lifted, shifted, repositioned with ease, like they’ve done this before, like this is what they were made for. Hands and mouths everywhere. The rip of fabric. The thud of clothes hitting the floor.

Talon rises, his bare chest flushed, cock hard and heavy, the thick head already glistening. The scar across his shoulder catches the light, a brutal, beautiful mark of loyalty. Oz shrugs out of his shirt next, all lean muscle and clean skin.

They’re fucking breathtaking. Powerful. Wild.

And they’re all mine.