Behind me, Connor snorts. “You think I didn’t get her off?” he grumbles. “I have never left a woman needy in my life.”
“I’m needy,” I tell Jax as I slide Connor’s hand over my breast. “For both of you.”
“Fuck,” Connor huffs, his fingers already playing with my nipple, his pride forgotten. My eyelids drop closed as Jax presses a kiss to my lips, his rough palm already caressing the curve of my hip, moving lower until he’s gripping my ass.
“I’m needy for all of you,” I say.
“All of us?” Jax dips his head to kiss me, drawing my bottom lip between his and sucking gently.
I smile against his mouth, and when he pulls back to gaze into my eyes, I nod. “All of you. At the same time.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Are you sure we won’t be too much for you? None of us wants to hurt you.”
“I’m sure,” I say. To be honest, I’m not as certain as I’m making out. I have no idea what it will physically take to please seven huge muscular men at the same time, but I’m eager to find out. I trust that these men will always put my safety and happiness above their own, even in the heat of the moment. Time and time again, they’ve proven to me that they are good and decent.
Jax nods again with a solemn air. I’m used to him being the joker of the group, but where it counts, he can be serious and considerate. I like that combination a lot.
He pushes himself up on one arm, his bicep bulging deliciously, and waves to his friends from the doorway. “Get in here.”
Connor rolls slowly away to give the others space to slot in next to me. As each of my bodyguards remove their shirts and pants and kneels on the bed, my heart thuds a drumbeat of expectation.
Oh God, they are all gorgeous. Toned and muscular from years of making their bodies into worthy fighting machines. Some have tattoos like Connor, whose script isn’t something I can read, and Hudson, who has the name Hartley inked across his heart. Some have scars, like Mo, whose back reveals the crisscross lashes of a whip, and Ben, who’s lost a whole limb during his service. Connor’s back is scarred too, a lattice of wounds that could be shrapnel or maybe something more sinister left over from childhood. I saw kids like that in foster care and group homes. Battle-weary from shitty childhoods.
They’re all different but all perfect.
“Luna, baby. We’ll be careful with you,” Elijah says, bending to kiss my calf.
“All you’ve got to do is tell us if it’s too much, and we’ll stop,” Mo says softly. His hand hesitates over my skin, and he takes a deep breath, allowing his eyelids to drop before he finally allows himself to touch me.
Ben hangs back as though he thinks I’m going to be bothered about his disability. He doesn’t know how much his sacrifice means to me or how the extra effort it takes him to do his job has inspired me. I know that he must carry emotional scars, but he pushes forward, and for that, he’s earned my admiration. Plus, with his coal black hair and cloud gray eyes, he’s sexy as hell.
Jax impatiently leans in to kiss my lips, and I close my eyes, wanting the security of the darkness behind my eyes while I get used to the feeling of so many men around me.
Hands explore my body as though they’re mapping out an undiscovered land. Lips find parts of my skin that have never been kissed before, my ankles, the backs of my knees, the small of my back. I’m shivery with anticipation as Jax’s fingers slide between my legs, searching for my slick and swollen clit.
When I moan, it’s followed by the growl of at least two men. Mo slides in behind me, using his big hands to cup my breasts, driving me crazy with the tempting press of his cock against my ass. “You ready for me?” he murmurs against my ear, nipping it before I have a chance to nod.
He’s notched against my entrance so fast, and with Jax’s finger still working my clit, my pussy accepts him in with no resistance.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
Wet and about to come, I’d say if my tongue wasn’t stuck to the roof of my mouth and my brain cells hadn’t upped and left the building.
Two thrusts are all it takes, and I’m bucking against Mo, making noises that don’t even sound human.
“Shit,” I hear Jax say. “She comes like a fucking rocket.”
Mo, who’s thrusting faster through it all, grunts, “You have no idea.”
Even though I’m done, Mo doesn’t race to his own finish line. There’s a finesse to the way he fucks into me with rolls of his hips, gripping onto my hips so I fit perfectly into the curve of his body. When he comes, I don’t even get to enjoy the feeling of him softening because he pulls out quickly so that Jax can take his place.