Page 47

I take off like a shot, bare feet pounding the path, gravel, and dirt biting my soles—but I don’t care. The ocean air whips past me, cool against the flush, heating my skin.

“She runs,” Gabe growls, amused. “God, I love it when she runs.”

“Let her have a head start.” Hank’s voice is pure predator. “I want to chase .”

I veer off the main trail, breath coming in gasps, my muscles burning. The ground dips and rises, cliffs rising on one side, wild brush on the other. The adrenaline surges through me, igniting every nerve.

Behind me— thunder .

Boots pounding. Male laughter—dark, hungry.

“You know you won’t win,” Gabe calls. “But damn, sweetheart, you look good trying.”

I risk a glance over my shoulder— mistake . They’re gaining fast. All lean muscle and focused heat zeroed in on me , their eyes locked on me like prey.

“Run faster,” Hank taunts, closing in. “Give me a reason to punish you. ”

My breath catches. A thrill—pure, electric—spikes through me.

I push harder, legs pumping, lungs burning. The wind tangles my hair, and a laugh bursts free, wild and breathless.

This is insane.

This is everything .

I vault over a twisted root, nearly lose my balance, then recover with a burst of speed. The wind howls in my ears, my pulse louder still.

But behind me—they’re closing in.

Gabe’s laughter is low, close. “She’s veering left!”

“It’s not going to help. She already lost,” Hank answers, a growl laced with certainty.

I don’t dare look again. I feel them. Their footsteps sync with my heartbeat, the heavy thud of boots against earth like war drums behind me. They’re gaining with every breath I steal.

“Five seconds,” Gabe calls, tone dark with promise. “Then you’re ours.”

I push harder, my breath hitching, my muscles screaming. Another step, another?—

Four.

Three.

Two—

Arms wrap around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground mid-stride. I squeal, legs kicking as I’m swung through the air like I weigh nothing.

“Got you,” Hank growls against my ear, voice rough with triumph. His grip tightens around me, holding me effortlessly against his solid frame, my body caged in strength, in possession.

Gabe slows beside us, breathless, grinning wide, the victory glinting in his sharp blue eyes. His hand fists in my hair, tilting my head back just enough to expose my throat. My pulse thrums beneath his fingers, and his lips curve as he leans in, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Told you you wouldn’t win.”

I open my mouth to argue—to taunt him back—but before I can get a word out, his lips crash into mine.

Hard. Hungry.

The kiss is a brand, a claiming, his mouth parting mine with effortless dominance. His teeth nip at my lower lip, just enough to make me gasp, and he swallows the sound with a deep, satisfied groan. His tongue sweeps in, tasting, teasing, taking, and I melt, trapped between the steel of Hank’s arms and the fire of Gabe’s mouth.

Hank chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating against my back. His grip tightens around my thighs, adjusting my weight, pressing me harder against his shoulder like I’m nothing but a prize he’s claimed.

A prize they both intend to collect.

“Don’t forget who you belong to.” Gabe pulls back slowly, his breath mingling with mine. His grip on my hair tightens just enough to keep me in place, making sure I don’t look away.

I don’t.

Hank huffs a laugh behind me, then, with no warning, slaps my ass, sharp and stinging. “Now we collect our prize.”

I yelp, my thighs clenching around his grip, but it only makes him laugh harder.

“Hope you’re ready, sweetheart.” Gabe smirks, tracing a thumb over my lower lip, swollen from his kiss.

I’m not—but that doesn’t mean I don’t want everything they’re going to give me.

“Put me down!” My world tilts, my stomach drops, and a gasp tears from my throat. I pound Hank’s back, but it’s half-hearted at best.

A sharp smack to my ass silences me.

Heat flares.

Molten.

Deep.

Inevitable.

“Nope.” Hank’s voice is dark velvet, threaded with command. “You walk too damn slow.” His grip shifts tighter, firmer. Then, he’s off, sprinting toward home.

The world flies past in a blur—ocean, cliffs, sky. Hank carries me like I weigh nothing. His body is rock solid, every muscle working beneath me. I cling to him, breath stolen, heart thundering.

Our home comes into view, perched at the cliff’s edge, sunlight catching the glass windows. The air hums with anticipation, with need.

They’re desperate for me .

And I’m desperate for them .

I gasp, half-laughing as he leaps over a fallen branch without breaking stride. “The way you’re running, anyone would think you haven’t had sex in years.”

Gabe’s eyes catch mine as he runs alongside us, dark with intent. “Half a mile until home, sweetheart. Hope you didn’t have any plans,” he says, his voice dropping to that tone that makes my insides liquify. “Because we’re not letting you out of bed for the rest of the day.”

The casual confidence in his words sends a shiver straight through me. Hank’s grip tightens, his free hand splayed possessively across the back of my thighs.

My half-hearted struggles cease as his words sink in.

Home.

Not his home or their home.

Just home.

As if it’s decided—as if it’s where I belong.

The door slams open under Gabe’s hand, echoing like a starting gun. Hank doesn’t pause, doesn’t hesitate, just charges through, my body still slung over his shoulder like a prize.

“Bedroom,” Gabe calls, locking the door behind us, his voice hoarse, hot, filled with promise.

“No.” Hank’s tone is rough silk, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Right here.”

I barely have time to gasp before strong hands grip my waist, lifting me, shifting me like I weigh nothing. My heart slams against my ribs, the thrill of the chase still electric in my veins.

The world spins as Hank sets me on my feet—just long enough for his fingers to curl around my hips, grounding me, making sure I feel his control.

His body presses close, solid heat caging me in.

Then he grips my wrist, firm but not unkind, and turns me.

A sharp gasp escapes as he spins me to face the couch, his chest at my back, broad and unyielding.

His hand slides up my spine, fingers splaying between my shoulder blades. A firm, unspoken command.

I obey before he can speak, before I can second-guess myself.

I bend over the couch, my breath shaky, anticipation strung tight between my ribs. The leather is cool beneath my palms, grounding me in the moment, in them.

Gabe’s voice hums in my ear, a dark promise. “That’s it, sweetheart. Exactly where you belong.”

Hank’s palm ghosts over the curve of my ass, slow, deliberate, teasing. Then—his fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, yanking them down in one ruthless motion.

Cool air licks over fevered skin.

Hank grips my hips, thumbs pressing into the dips above my pelvis, holding me still as he leans over me, his breath searing against my neck.

“You wanted to be fucked.”

Hank’s voice scrapes over me, rough, unforgiving. His grip tightens on my hips, fingers digging into my skin, holding me in place.

“Now you get to be fucked.”

He doesn’t wait.

Doesn’t tease.

He takes.

A sharp thrust—not just possession but claiming. My gasp is swallowed by the couch beneath me, my nails scraping against leather as my body takes him.

Hank growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me. His hands flex at my hips, dragging me back onto him, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm. The couch shifts beneath us, the force of each thrust sending shocks up my spine.

Gabe’s breath ghosts over my ear, his presence a dark, smoldering heat just behind me. His hands skim my arms and my back, teasing over my ribs before sliding under my jaw, tilting my face up.

His lips brush my cheek, so soft in contrast to Hank’s raw force. “You take him so well,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for this.”

A strangled moan escapes me, body arching, trembling under their hands, between their control.

Hank grunts, his pace unrelenting, his dominance absolute.

I choke on my breath, my body tightening, pleasure rising fast and hard, crashing into me.

Hank shudders against me, fingers pressing bruises into my hips as he buries himself deep, a final, devastating thrust stealing what little air I have left.

For a moment, silence—just heavy breathing, slick heat, my body still trembling from the aftershocks.

Then, hands.

Gabe’s.

Sliding over my skin, coaxing me upright, turning me with a grip firm enough to make my knees weak. His gaze burns into mine—demanding, knowing.

Hank’s hands are still on me, keeping me steady. He shifts, moving to sit on the couch, pulling me down into his lap, his grip spreading my thighs apart.

I barely have time to catch my breath before Gabe steps between us, fingers wrapping around my chin, tipping my head back so I have no choice but to look at him.

His other hand trails down, his palm pressing between my thighs, teasing over my oversensitive flesh, making me gasp, shake, and crave.

“My turn,” Gabe breathes, eyes dark with hunger.

Hank leans back, his legs spreading wider, keeping me in place, my thighs parted over his. His arms tighten around me—not just holding, but controlling. His grip snakes up, his hands wrapping around my wrists, pulling them behind his head, stretching me open, helpless against him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips at my ear, his breath warm, grounding me. But his voice? That’s pure command. Possession.

Pinned, exposed, I have nowhere to go.

And then Gabe kneels.

Between us. Between our legs.

His hands grip my thighs, firm, steady, his fingers pressing into my skin as he shifts forward, his body brushing against Hank’s, against mine.

I can feel everything—the heat rolling off both of them, the way Gabe’s breath stutters slightly before he exhales slowly, measured.

There’s no hesitation.

Just purpose.

He grips my hips, anchoring me as he lines himself up, teasing the barest inch inside before he drives forward, filling me in one deep, perfect thrust.

A sharp cry spills from my lips, my back arching, pressing my chest tighter against Hank, my head falling back onto his shoulder.

Trapped. Taken. Theirs.

Gabe curses low, his breath hot against my throat as he moves, each thrust pressing me deeper into Hank, each stroke making me feel everything.

Hank tightens his grip on my wrists, his arms flexing, forcing me to stay open, to take it, to let them own me.

His lips skim my cheek, his breath ragged.

Gabe shifts, and the change in angle makes my whole body tighten, a sharp gasp escaping as pleasure punches through me.

Hank feels it. Feels my body react, my thighs trembling against his. His chest rumbles with a low, approving sound.

“That’s it,” he mutters, watching. “Take him. Take all of him.”

Gabe growls low in his throat, his thrusts quickening, his pace relentless now, his forehead nearly touching Hank’s shoulder as he loses himself in me.

I can’t breathe.

Can’t think.

Can only feel.

The tension coils tight, the pleasure is unbearable, my body locking between them, helpless, raw, desperate .

Gabe’s grip bruises, his fingers pressing deep as he drives in one last time, his breath breaking, his head dropping forward?—

Hank grips my chin, tilting my face toward his, swallowing my moan with a kiss just as Gabe lets out a ragged groan, burying himself deep.

The pleasure detonates, shattering through me, stealing every last thought, every last breath?—

And the only thing holding me together is them.

I barely have time to recover before Gabe shifts beneath me, his body still hot, still wired, still hungry.

“Round two.”

His voice is low, dark with intent. He is already moving toward the hallway. His shirt is gone, his muscles taut and gleaming, and the ridges of his abs flex with every step.

He glances over his shoulder, his gaze locking onto mine, pinning me in place even as he moves farther away.

“My room. Now.”

That’s all it takes.

My pulse kicks up again, anticipation curling tight, heat pooling low in my belly.

Gabe’s room.

Not just a bedroom.

His playground.

Where the rules shift. Where I shift. Where I let go completely.