They moved like wolves in perfect rhythm, every touch a conversation, every gasp a shared breath. Athena let go of thought, of control, letting her alphas take over—let them guide her, fill her, consume her.
Lucas positioned her onto her back, his body settling between her legs, the weight of him pressing deliciously against her core. He slid inside her slowly, inch by inch, while Cassius knelt above her, feeding her kisses and stroking her breasts, watching her unravel with patient hunger.
Lucas didn't rush. He thrust with long, deep strokes, watching her with eyes burning gold.
"She's squeezing me so tight," he murmured to Cassius. "Like she doesn't want to let go."
"Don't let her," Cassius growled, voice fraying. "Not yet."
Athena writhed, panting, her nails digging into Lucas's back, her mouth reaching blindly for Cassius's. And when Cassius kissed her again—one hand on her throat, the other tangled in her hair—she felt herself begin to crack open.
