Page 42

I settle into the cushions, hyperaware of Darren beside me, of Zayn's proximity at the other end of the section, of Jax taking the armchair across from us, of Aidan perching on the ottoman, of Dmitri leaning against the fireplace mantel with his own glass in hand.

They're all watching me with varying degrees of intensity, and I should feel intimidated or awkward.

Instead, I feel... powerful. Desired.

"So," I say, taking another sip of wine for courage, "is this how your nights usually end? The five of you bringing someone home?"

The question hangs in the air for a beat, and I wonder if I've crossed some invisible line. Then Zayn laughs, the sound rich and genuine.

"Hardly," he says. "This is actually a first."

I look between them, surprised. "Really? I would have thought..."

"That we do this all the time?" Jax fills in, his gray eyes warm with amusement. "No. We've never brought anyone home as a pack before."

That statement makes my skin prickle with awareness. I'm the first woman they've all shared. Whatever happens tonight, it's not just another routine evening for them.

"Then I'm flattered," I say, aiming for lighthearted but hearing the sudden huskiness in my voice.

"We're the ones who should be grateful," Dmitri says quietly from his position by the fireplace. "That you trust us enough to be here."

The sincerity in his voice hits me. This isn't just about sex for them, either. Although I want that, more than I care to admit. I want all of them.

Darren's arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me subtly closer to his side. "We can just talk, enjoy the company," he says gently. "No expectations."

The others nod in agreement, but there's an energy in the air now that makes my skin feel too sensitive, too aware of every point of contact. Darren's arm around me, his thigh pressed against mine, Zayn's gaze from the other end of the sectional.

"I didn't come back here just to talk," I admit, the words slipping out before I can overthink them.

The effect is immediate. The air in the room seems to thicken and crackle with hunger.

"What did you come back for, then?" Jax asks, his voice low and controlled.

I look at him, then at each of them in turn, my heart racing. "I came back because I want to see where this goes."

I should feel vulnerable, having laid my desire so plainly before these five men. Instead, I feel strangely powerful. I've acknowledged what I want, and now the ball is in their court.

Zayn is the first to move. He sets his wine glass down, then slides along the sectional until he's close enough that I can feel his body heat. “And where do you want it to go?” he asks, his eyes locked on mine. “We need to know you're sure, beautiful.”

I swallow, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth is despite the water. "I want... I want to explore this connection I feel. Whatever it is between us. All of us."

"All of us," Aidan echoes, his voice catching slightly on the words.

"Yes," I confirm, feeling my cheeks heat but holding my ground. "I've only been with Darren so far, but I feel drawn to all of you. And I know you feel it too."

"We do," Jax confirms, his expression growing heated. "Very much so."

"But only if you're certain," Darren adds, his hand squeezing my shoulder gently. "If you're ready."

I turn to look at him, finding concern mixed with desire in his blue eyes. "I'm sure," I tell him, then address the room at large. "I want this. Want you."

The confession seems to break something loose in the room. Dmitri pushes away from the mantel, moving to sit on my other side. Zayn shifts even closer. Aidan abandons the ottoman to kneel on the floor in front of the sectional.

I'm suddenly surrounded, encircled by their presence, but it doesn't feel threatening. It feels right. Like being enveloped in warmth and protection and desire.

Darren's fingers thread through my hair, gently turning my face toward his.

His lips find mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens as I respond eagerly.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance that I readily grant.

The kiss is familiar now, but no less thrilling for its familiarity.

He knows exactly how to tilt his head, how much pressure to apply, how to make me melt against him.

A large, warm hand settles on my thigh. Not Darren's, because both of his are accounted for, one in my hair and the other at my waist. I break the kiss to look down and find Dmitri's hand resting there, his pale blue eyes watching me intently for any sign of discomfort.

"This is okay?" he asks.

In answer, I reach down to cover his hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against my thigh. His fingers flex in response, squeezing gently through the denim of my jeans.

From my other side, Zayn leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "Can I touch you, too?"

The question makes me shiver. This powerful alpha, hanging on my next word. "Yes," I whisper, turning slightly toward him.

His hand comes up to cup my jaw, turning me further until I'm facing him.

His dark eyes search mine for a moment before he closes the distance, capturing my lips in a kiss that's completely different from Darren's.

Where Darren's kisses are passionate but controlled, Zayn kisses like he's trying to devour me.

It's all heat and demand and barely leashed ferality.

I respond in kind, matching his intensity, surprised by my own boldness. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming and exploring, and I let him lead, curious about the differences between them. His teeth catch my lower lip, nipping lightly in a way that sends warmth pooling low in my belly.

When we break apart, I'm breathing hard, my lips tingling from the force of his kiss. Zayn's eyes are dark with satisfaction as he sits back slightly, giving me space to breathe.

A movement at my feet draws my attention to Aidan, who's still kneeling on the floor, watching with an expression that's equal parts awe and hunger.

"Come here," I invite, beckoning him closer.

He rises up on his knees, bringing him to eye level with me. His hands settle hesitantly on my knees, touch light as a butterfly's wing. Unlike the others, there's a tentative quality to his approach that I find endearing. I lean forward to bridge the gap between us, pressing my lips to his.

Aidan's kiss is sweet at first, almost reverent, but there's a growing confidence as I respond, as my hands come up to frame his face. He tastes faintly of the wine we've been drinking when he kisses me, rich and smooth.

As we kiss, I feel movement behind me, and then Jax's hands settle on my shoulders, strong and steady. His thumbs press into the muscles at the base of my neck, beginning a gentle massage that has me sighing into Aidan's mouth.

"You're tense," Jax observes, his deep voice rumbling through me. "Let me help with that."

His fingers work magic on my shoulders, finding knots I didn't even know I had and working them loose with firm, circular motions. The dual sensation of Aidan's increasingly passionate kiss and Jax's skilled hands on my shoulders is almost overwhelming in the best possible way.

When Aidan finally pulls back, his green eyes are dark with desire, his cheeks flushed. "Wow," he breathes, and I can't help the small laugh that escapes me.

"Wow indeed," I agree, reaching out to brush my thumb across his lower lip.

Behind me, Jax's hands still on my shoulders. "My turn?" he asks, the question low and intimate near my ear.

I nod, turning my head to look up at him over my shoulder.

He leans down, one hand sliding into my hair as his mouth finds mine.

The angle is awkward but the kiss is anything but.

Jax kisses with the same quiet authority he seems to bring to everything.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, exploring with deliberate intent that has me arching up into the contact.

As Jax claims my mouth, I feel other hands on me. Darren's at my waist, Dmitri's on my thigh, Zayn's sliding along my arm, Aidan's still resting on my knees. Five pairs of hands, each touch distinct but harmonious, creating a multifaceted sensation that has me melting into the sofa.

When Jax finally straightens, breaking the kiss but keeping his hands on my shoulders, I feel dazed. Four down, one to go.

I turn to Dmitri, who's been so patient, his touch steady on my thigh but making no further moves. "And you?" I invite, meeting those intense blue eyes.

Instead of answering, he simply leans in, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of my head as his lips meet mine.

Dmitri kisses like he does everything else, with quiet intensity and unexpected depth.

There's a deliberate quality to the way his mouth moves against mine, like he's memorizing the shape and feel of my lips.

When his tongue slides against mine, it's a slow, thorough exploration that has my toes curling in my shoes.

By the time he pulls back, I'm breathless, my heart pattering in my chest. I've just kissed five men in the span of minutes, each one distinct, each one thrilling in its own way.

"Well," I manage, my voice slightly shaky, "that was quite an introduction."

Zayn laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "Just the beginning, if you're interested."

"Very interested," I confirm, feeling bold and desired and more alive than I have in months. Maybe years.

Darren's hand slides from my waist to my hip, his touch firmer now, more possessive. "What would you like?" he asks, his voice husky with desire. "Name it, and it's yours."

The question catches me off guard. What do I want? The possibilities seem endless, overwhelming even. Five gorgeous men, all focused on me, all willing to follow my lead.

"I want..." I start, then hesitate, not sure how to articulate what I'm feeling. "I want to be touched. By all of you. I want to feel what makes each of you different."