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Christopher's eyes darkened as he pulled back to look at me.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Despite his teasing words, he sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing his chest inch by inch.

I propped myself up on my elbows, drinking in the sight of him.

His chest was lean but defined, scattered with dark hair that trailed down his stomach and disappeared beneath his waistband.

My fingers itched to trace those lines, to explore the plains and valleys of his torso.

"Like what you see?" he asked, shrugging out of his shirt completely. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast shadows across his skin, highlighting every muscle.

"Very much," I admitted, my voice husky with desire. "But you're still wearing too much."

Christopher chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Demanding little thing, aren't you?" But his hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with the same methodical care he brought to everything else.

I watched, mesmerized, as he shed the rest of his clothing. When he was finally as bare as I was, I couldn't help but stare. He was magnificent—all lean muscle and masculine grace, his arousal evident and impressive. The sight of him made my mouth go dry and my core clench with renewed need.

"Now we're even," he said, settling back between my thighs. His hands skimmed up my legs, thumbs tracing patterns on my inner thighs that made me shiver. "Though I have to say, you're much more beautiful than I am."

"I disagree," I whispered, reaching up to trace the line of his collarbone. "You're perfect."

Christopher caught my hand, pressing it flat against his chest where his heart raced beneath my palm. "Feel that? That's what you do to me, wildflower. Every time you look at me, every time you smile, every time you trust me with something precious."

The raw honesty in his voice made me smile, “I love you.”

Christopher's expression softened, his eyes reflecting the glow of the bedside lamp. "I love you too, Lilianna. More than I ever thought possible."

He leaned down to capture my lips again, this kiss slower, deeper, pouring every ounce of emotion into the connection between us.

I melted into him, my hands exploring the warm expanse of his back, feeling the muscles shift beneath my fingertips as he moved above me, “What would you like me to do to you, wildflower? "

The question made me flush, but I met his gaze steadily. "Everything," I whispered. "I want you to do everything to me."

Christopher's eyes flashed with something primal at my words. "Everything is a very broad request," he murmured, his fingers trailing up my side to cup my breast. "I might need you to be more specific."

I shivered at his touch, my body responding to his touch with an eagerness that still amazed me. "I want you inside me," I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. "I want to feel you moving against me, claiming me. I want you to make me yours completely."

His breath caught, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of gray remained. "Such a wicked mouth," he murmured, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Who taught you to talk like that?"

"You did," I replied honestly. "All of you. You taught me I could ask for what I want."

Christopher groaned, the sound rough and desperate. "You're going to be the death of me," he said, positioning himself at my entrance. "Are you sure you're ready for me? Miles was thorough knowing him, but I don't want to hurt you."

I reached up to cup his face, drawing him down for a gentle kiss. "I'm sure," I whispered against his lips. "I trust you completely."

Christopher's eyes closed briefly, as if savoring my words, before he looked at me again with such tenderness it made my chest ache.

"So good for me," he muttered, his voice rough with restraint.

The first press of him against me made me gasp, my body stretching to accommodate his size.

He was larger than Miles, and the sensation was intense—not painful, but overwhelming in the best way.

Christopher paused, his breathing labored as he gave me time to adjust.

"Breathe," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along my jaw. "You're doing so well." I focused on his voice, on the gentle touch of his lips against my skin, and felt my body begin to relax around him.

"More," I whispered, my hips shifting restlessly beneath him.

Christopher's restraint snapped at my plea.

With a fluid motion, he sank deeper, filling me completely in one smooth thrust that pulled a cry from my lips.

His eyes never left mine, watching every flicker of emotion across my face as he began to move.

"Perfect," he groaned, his rhythm steady and deliberate. "So tight around me, so perfect for me."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him closer, deeper with each thrust. The angle changed, hitting a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes. My nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built within me, more intense than before.

"That's it," Christopher encouraged, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "Take what you need from me."

His hands slid beneath me, and I gave a yelp as he changed our position before it turned into a loud moan.

He was laying on his back now as I straddled him, my hands braced against his chest for balance.

The new position sent him even deeper, and I gasped at the sensation of fullness, of being so completely connected to him.

"Ride me," Christopher commanded softly, his hands gripping my hips to guide my movements. "Show me how much you want this."

I began to move, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as I found a rhythm that made us both groan.

The control was intoxicating—being able to set the pace, to watch his face contort with pleasure as I moved above him.

His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, tracing the curve of my waist, anchoring me to him as I lost myself in the sensation.

"So beautiful," he breathed, his thumbs brushing over my nipples as I moved. "My perfect wildflower, taking me so deep, so perfectly." His voice was strained, almost reverent as his hands gripped my hips harder, guiding my movements with increasing urgency.

The praise washed over me like warm honey, making me bold. I leaned forward, changing the angle so that each thrust hit that perfect spot inside me. Christopher's eyes darkened as he watched me chase my pleasure, his teeth catching his lower lip in a way that made my heart stutter.

"That's it," he encouraged, one hand sliding between us to where we were joined, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. "Show me how good it feels."

The dual sensations—him filling me completely while his fingers worked their magic—pushed me toward the edge faster than I expected. My movements became erratic, my breathing ragged as tension coiled tighter within me.

"Christopher," I gasped, my voice breaking on his name.

“Not yet," he growled, suddenly flipping our positions again so I was beneath him once more. The display of strength made me whimper with need as he pinned my hands above my head, his body covering mine completely. "I want to feel you come around me, but not until I say so."

The command in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, a delicious tension building within me as he controlled both our pleasure.

Christopher's thrusts became deeper, more deliberate, each one hitting that perfect spot that made my vision blur at the edges.

I struggled against his grip, not to escape but to feel the restraint, to surrender completely to his control.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears. "I need—"

"I know exactly what you need," he whispered against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "And I'll give it to you when you're ready."

His rhythm changed, slowing to an almost torturous pace that had me writhing beneath him. Each thrust was measured, deliberate, designed to build my pleasure without allowing release. I could feel his knot beginning to swell, catching slightly with each movement.

"Christopher," I gasped, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Please, I can't—"

"Yes, you can," he murmured, his voice thick with desire and command. "You're stronger than you know, wildflower. Hold on for me just a little longer."

His knot continued to swell, the pressure building with each deliberate thrust. I could feel every ridge, every pulse of him inside me, the sensation overwhelming and perfect. My body was wound so tight I thought I might shatter, balanced on the knife's edge between control and complete surrender.

"Now," Christopher commanded, his voice rough as his knot locked us together. "Come for me now, beautiful."

The release was explosive, tearing through me with an intensity that stole my breath.

I cried out his name, my body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.

Christopher followed me over the edge with a deep groan, his body shuddering against mine as he spilled himself inside me.

His knot pulsed, locking us together as he buried his face in my neck, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"Perfect," he whispered against my skin, his voice hoarse. "So fucking perfect."

I trembled beneath him, aftershocks still rippling through me as I struggled to catch my breath. The weight of him was comforting, grounding me as I floated in the haze of satisfaction. My fingers found his hair, threading through the dark strands as he pressed gentle kisses to my throat.

"I love you, wildflower," he told me, lifting his head to look at me. His eyes were soft now, the desperate hunger gone and back to soft loving eyes, “One day I will bite down on that neck if you allow it and make you ours…I know the others feel the same way.”

My breath caught at his words, heat flooding through me that had nothing to do with our physical connection. The idea of being claimed so completely, so permanently, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

"Is that what you want?" I whispered, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "All of you?"

Christopher's eyes darkened again, though his expression remained tender. "We've talked about it," he admitted quietly. "The four of us. About what it would mean to have you as our mate completely—not just in our hearts, but bonded to us in every way that matters."

I felt my pulse quicken at the confession. The thought should have been overwhelming, terrifying even. Instead, it filled me with a sense of rightness that settled deep in my bones.

"When?" I asked, surprised by the certainty in my own voice.

"When you're ready," Christopher laughed at my eagerness, “Besides, Nicolaus hasn’t had his date. He needs to woo you some as well.”

I laughed softly, the sound breathless in the quiet room. "Poor Nicolaus. He's been so patient with all of us."

Christopher's smile was warm as he shifted slightly, careful not to disturb our connection. "He's been planning something special, from what I understand. Though knowing him, it'll be perfectly orchestrated down to the last detail."

"That sounds like him," I murmured, my fingers still playing with his hair. "Always thinking three steps ahead."

"He cares about you deeply," Christopher said, his voice growing serious. "We all do. This isn't just about physical attraction, Lilianna. What we're offering you—what we're asking for—it's everything. Our lives, our futures, our hearts."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he was saying. "I know," I whispered, reaching up to cup his face. "And it's what I want too. All of you."

Christopher kissed me then, gentle and reverent, as if sealing a promise between us. His knot still tied us together, creating an intimacy that went beyond the physical. When he finally pulled back, his eyes shone with emotion.

"Rest now," he murmured, carefully shifting us to our sides without breaking our connection. "We have all the time in the world."

I nestled against him, my body perfectly fitted to his as exhaustion began to claim me. The last thing I felt before drifting off was Christopher's lips pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, his arms wrapped protectively around me.