Page 258 of What We Become

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“Fuck comfortable,” she says. “Make me feel it.”

He does. His mouth finds her, and she arches against the cuffs. I watch his hands grip her thighs, holding her exactly where he wants her, and I work my own shaft, wanting both of them.

She comes hard, body straining against the metal, and Holden doesn’t stop. Keeps working her through it until she’s making sounds that aren’t even language, just pure response. When he finally lifts his head, his mouth is wet, his expression almost cruel with satisfaction.

“Ours,” he says.

Sage laughs, breathless, the chain rattling as she tests her restraint. “Yours,” she agrees. “All of yours.”

I take the key from the nightstand and unlock the cuffs, kissing one wrist while Holden kisses the other.

“Turn over for us, baby girl,” Micah murmurs.

She does, boneless and trusting, rolling onto her stomach with a little help from Knox’s giant hand at her hip. I slide away just long enough to let her settle, then climb back onto the bed and kneel near her head, dragging my fingers down the line of her spine.

“Pretty,” I whisper. “So fucking pretty.”

Her eyes flutter half-shut as Eli moves in, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he watches Sage laid out between us.

“We keeping the stockings on?” I ask, because some questions matter.

“Yes,” Holden says immediately.

“God, thank you.”

He’s already back in command mode, which on most people would be annoying and on Holden is unbearably hot. He slides one knee onto the mattress and reaches for Sage’s ankle, running his fingers up the sheer line of her stocking with a look on his face that could make a nun file a police report.

“Hands and knees,” he rasps.

Sage shivers and obeys.

Christ.

Her dark brown hair spills down her back. The white lace of her garter belt sits against her hips, the stockings still clipped in place. It feels like the room is full of nothing but her. Nothing but us wanting her.

I trail my hand up her spine again, slower this time, and feel the fine tremor that goes through her. Micah is at her side in an instant, one hand soothing over her waist, the other brushing hair off her shoulder so he can kiss the place where neck becomes shoulder.

“You okay, baby girl?” he asks quietly.

She turns her face toward him, eyes bright and soft. “I’m five orgasms in. I’m more than okay.”

Eli exhales roughly behind us. Knox settles one broad palm at the small of Sage’s back and just keeps it there, grounding, possessive, huge. Holden’s gaze stays on her turned face.

“Good,” he says. “Then let’s take our time.”

I grin. “Wow. Who replaced the detective with a seduction coordinator?”

“Keep talking,” Holden says, “and I’ll give you something to do with that mouth.”

“Promise?” I shoot back.

Sage laughs into the sheets.

The sound dies into a moan when Holden’s hand comes down between her shoulder blades and eases her lower, shaping her exactly how he wants her. It’s obscene how beautiful she is like this—our bride on all fours in white lace, hair tumbling, rings flashing, back arched.

I move around to face her and cup her jaw.