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Heat hit me the instant I stepped into the penthouse. Lucien’s gaze pinned me like fire. Theo’s fingers brushed mine in a teasing spark. Rafe’s smirk promised mischief, Cam pressed close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, and Zeke… Zeke’s dark, intense stare had my body betraying me before I even breathed.
“Sit,” Lucien murmured, voice low and commanding.
I hesitated, barely remembering how I’d gotten here. The gala had been a storm—paparazzi snapping photos of all of us, whispers from exes, chaos trailing us like wildfire. By the time I returned, five men were already in the penthouse, each radiating desire, each silently staking their claim. My pulse hammered with a mix of exhaustion and longing, and somehow, every nerve in my body was alert, aching for them.
Theo’s fingers laced through mine, tugging me toward the sofa. Rafe’s hand skimmed my hip, brushing just enough to make me shiver. Cam nudged my shoulder teasingly, and Zeke pressed his chest to my back, one hand sliding over my waist, the other tracing a teasing path along my collarbone. Lucien’s lips grazed my ear, low and possessive: “Mine.”
I gasped. Their touches overlapped—fingers in my hair, teeth grazing shoulders, palms claiming hips, lips scorching skin. Theo circled my hand, Rafe’s fingers tangled in mine, Cam’s teeth grazed, Zeke’s chest pressed flush, and Lucien’s kiss stole my breath.
I arched toward them, surrendering to every stolen kiss, every lingering caress. I wanted all of them—every possessive hand, every teasing whisper, every heated gaze.
Rain pattered against the windows, but inside, heat consumed everything. Five men. One me. Trembling, gasping, achingly alive.
