The cool, black marble of the kitchen island was slick beneath Chloe’s bare thighs, a stark contrast to the absolute inferno that had just been sparked inside her. She lay back against the stone, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps that made her lace bralette strain against her chest. Her skin was flushed a deep, rosy pink, covered in a fine sheen of perspiration that glistened under the bright kitchen pendant lights. Every muscle in her body felt loose and heavily spent, vibrating from the aftershocks of the intense tension she had shared with the Alphas.
But the rules of the penthouse were absolute, and the pack kings were never truly satisfied unless they were consuming her together. They did not take turns; they operated as one singular, devastating force of dominance.
Julian st
