9. Kisha

Nine

Kisha

The three of them are on me, surrounding me like I'm something precious they're desperate to claim. I can feel it in every touch, every glance—their possessiveness, that deep, primal need to make me theirs. And right now, I don't want to be anywhere else.

Jax is in front of me, those intense, playful eyes of his looking me up and down like he's savoring every inch. His hand slides around to my waist, his touch firm, warm, grounding me in a way that has me feeling like I'm the only thing in his world. "You ready for us, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice low, rough, dripping with the promise of everything they're about to do to me.

"Yes," I manage to whisper, my voice barely steady, the anticipation building until it's all I can feel. I've never wanted anything this much, never felt this out of control, and it's like they know it, know exactly what they're doing to me.

Maddox's hands are digging into my hips, his hard chest pressing against my back, solid and warm. His breath grazes my ear, a shiver running down my spine as he murmurs, "You're not leaving here tonight without feeling every damn thing we can give you." There's that command in his voice, that unbreakable conviction, and I realize I'm gripping his arms, holding onto him like he's my anchor in the middle of the storm raging between us.

Hunt's to my side, his gaze dark and intense, his hand sliding over my thigh, rough and possessive. "Look at you," he mutters, almost like he's talking to himself. "Fucking perfect." His fingers trace a path along my skin, each touch lighting me up, and I know he can feel my pulse racing, feel the way my body's reacting, how I'm barely holding it together.

Jax tilts my face up, his thumb grazing over my cheek, and there's that mischievous glint in his eyes, mixed with something deeper, raw. "I want to hear you say it, Kisha. I want to hear you tell us you're ours."

I meet his gaze, that fire, that playful intensity, and something inside me snaps, my last bit of control slipping away. "I'm yours," I whisper, the words spilling out before I even have a chance to think about them.

The look he gives me in response is fierce, a flash of satisfaction mixed with something feral, like he's waited a lifetime to hear those words. His mouth crashes against mine, rough and unrelenting, and I lose myself in him, in the taste of him, alpha and heat, with that faint hint of pheromones that makes my head spin. His hands are everywhere, pulling me closer, gripping me like he's never letting go, and I know I'm not walking out of here the same woman I was when I came in.

Behind me, Maddox's hands slide up my waist, tracing over my curves, his touch possessive. His fingers caress my skin, warm and rough, and every brush of his hands makes me feel more claimed. I feel Hunt's fingers tighten on my thigh, as he holds me in place. Then he says, "but first, we're gonna play a little game."