“She’ll take us all,” I tell him. “She can take it.”
“So why the fuck did you usher us all out of the room?” Elijah says.
“Because we need to learn how to be with her first,” Mo says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “This man can be serious when it counts. What he did was right.”
“It had better be,” Asher says. “Because if you just fucked things up for all of us…”
Mo shoots Asher an exasperated look. “You’ve already had your fun. You’re the last of us who should be feeling annoyed right now.”
“Jax shouldn’t get to speak for all of us,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s not the boss of any of us. Most of the time, he’s not even in charge of his own mouth.”
As Connor sheathes his cock, lining it up with Luna’s entrance and thrusting, Asher’s frustrated insinuations dull into the background. What would it feel like to be surrounded by that tight wet heat? How would her hands grasping first at my biceps and then at my ass make me respond?
Maybe Connor will satisfy Luna enough, and she won’t want the rest of us. Maybe he’ll make her come so hard that any prospect of future orgasms will feel like too much.
“Harder,” Luna hisses, which grabs Hudson’s attention. Moving closer, he watches as Connor hitches Luna’s leg over his shoulder and thrusts deeper. Fuck, he’s working so hard that his back muscles are rippling, and a sheen of sweat is forming over his skin. He’s pounding so fast that it matches the beat of my heart, and all of us, even Hudson, are straining to watch through the narrow doorway, leaning in to hear the whimpering sounds Luna makes as she gets closer.
“Fuck,” Hudson growls, and Luna’s body goes limp. It doesn’t take Connor long to reach his own pinnacle of pleasure, his back arching and a rumble coming from his throat that’s loud enough to wake Hades.
“It’s looking like that will be it for the night,” Ben mumbles.
But as Connor leans to kiss Luna lazily, her eyes meet mine across the room, and I’m not so sure.
16
LUNA
Oh my God. I think Connor just broke my brain.
How many times have I looked into his mysterious green eyes and wondered what it would be like to be under him, feeling the power of his body over mine? And now I have been, he’s confirmed all my fantasies and more.
All my fantasies involving just one man. But there are six others in the next room, standing in the doorway with their eyes feasted on their very own little porn show.
And I’ve imagined too many times what it would be like to be surrounded by these men. The sun at the center of a universe of masculine planets. They can orbit and orbit until my energy is depleted.
But they seem to be more cautious than me. One minute they were all in the room. The next, they were all leaving except Connor. Are they worried about being too much for me? Are they worried about rushing things? Or is it something else?
Do they not want to get up-close-and-personal naked? Surely it can’t be that. They’ve all bunked with each other. I can’t imagine that privacy is a big thing between men when they are living in close confines in a warzone.
It’s not like they’d need to touch each other either, but perhaps I’m further along in imagining this. It could be that I need to provide some encouragement.
As Connor kisses me, I slip into the sensual movements of his lips, loving the slickness of his hard body after all the work he put into pleasing me.
And when we eventually draw apart, I glance over to the door, finding Jax and the rest of my bodyguards watching everything. But it’s Jax who’s closest. It’s Jax who seems the most eager to be next, and I like eager.
“Jax,” I whisper, watching as he starts to loosen his tie before he makes his way nearer to the bed. Connor’s face hardens, the complex situation that surrounds us suddenly coming into focus. I place my hand against his cheek as he starts to pull away. “Stay,” I say, leaning up to kiss his lips. Turning in his arms, I face Jax, who’s definitely understood what I need. He’s left his clothes in a messy trail across the room, but I don’t give a shit about tidiness. All I care about is how sexy he looks climbing onto my bed naked while I’m wet from fucking another man.
“Are you still needy, baby?” Jax asks, his eyes as soft as melted chocolate. Smiling, there’s a cheekiness about him that contradicts the roughness of his broken nose and torn left ear. It’s as though light pours from inside him, covering my face is a glow that’s uniquely his.
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.