ALMA’S POV
My body was still trembling from the feast when Drake’s shadow loomed over me, blotting out the others. His mouth was wet from tasting me earlier, his smirk wicked as he unbuckled his pants.
“You’re ready,” he growled.
I couldn’t even form words before he pushed into me, filling me deep in one brutal thrust. My cry split the room, raw and broken, and the men around us groaned as though my pleasure belonged to them too.
Drake set the rhythm first—slow, grinding strokes, his eyes locked on mine. He wanted me to feel it, every inch, every stretch, every claim. My back arched, my hands clutching velvet, my body quaking with each thrust. But then the others pressed closer, and I knew this wasn’t going to stop with him.
The first man forced his c**k against my lips, smearing the
