4.

MARIAN.

My eyes grow wide at the sound of the voice, and I can hear my heart racing as if it’s desperately trying to tear through my ribs. My head still pounds, but the rest of my muscles feel relaxed, so I’m guessing the headache is because of how much whiskey I consumed.

Running my fingers through my hair, I lift my gaze to see Zephyr sitting right in front of me, he’s lounging in a black armchair like he doesn’t only own it, but he owns the entire fucking universe.

There is a small smile lingering on his lips, and my throat bobs as my eyes follow his long legs that are spread wide, those powerful thighs straining against his dark pants, and his icy blue eyes—my goodness, those eyes—lock onto mine with that lazy, predatory hunger that makes my stomach clench.

I’d wanted to run off before any of them woke up, but who the hell am I kidding? I should have known that wouldn’t have been easy.

These are the Dreadmoor brothers, of course they’re fucking different from my husband who sleeps like a log of wood, not caring if he needs to work or not.

Men like the Dreadmoor brothers wake up before the crack of dawn, and that makes me wonder how long Zephyr had been sitting there and watching me for.

“I—” My mouth opens as I try to speak, but he’s so distractingly hot that I forget what I want to say. I look behind me and only two of the brothers are still on the bed. I hear the shower running so I know there’s another in the bathroom.

My gaze returns to Zephyr, and I swallow again, the morning light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden edges over his sharp jaw and tousled hair.

He’s shirtless, every cut muscle on display, and my gaze—like my entire body—betrays me, tracing the deep V that disappears into his waistband.

“What’s the matter, Bunny?” He asks, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in velvet. That same voice that growled filthy praises against my ear last night while he and his brothers ruined me.

“You look like you’re trying to wake up from a dream.” He adds, and I hate that with Zephyr and his brothers, I’m nothing but an open book that they can read.

“Wha—What happened between us last night….” My voice trails off as heat floods my face while the memories slam into me, raw and unfiltered.

“Oh that?” He asks, relaxing properly against the chair, causing every single muscle to flex with that one tiny movement. “That happened.”

It did. It happened. I don’t know why I ask, it’s almost as if I’m trying to convince myself that I didn’t cheat on my husband. I shouldn’t even feel guilty, and I really don’t.

Whatever I’m doing now, Malcolm caused it. He’d called me boring, and I had to prove that I wasn’t boring.

“Do you want me to recount how it happened for you? Because, you know, I can.” Zephyr’s voice is like music to my ears, my pussy drips at the sound of it, and my body instantly begs for his touch.

“NO!” I scream before I can stop myself. I don’t need him to recount it for me, I can do that myself. Hell, I’m doing it right now against my own better judgement.

I remember the way Zephyr’s thick cock stretched my pussy so wide I thought I’d split open, his hips slamming against mine while Tristan forced his way in beside him, both of them buried balls-deep in my dripping cunt at the same time.

The obscene stretch, the burning fullness, the wet squelch of my juices coating their cocks as they fucked me in perfect, brutal rhythm. My toes curl hard into the silk sheets beneath me, and fresh wetness manifests between my thighs.

Oh fuck. I should stop thinking about it.

“Wow, look at you.” His voice is low now, his blue eyes an even darker shade of blue as he leaned forward, close enough for me to feast on his shirtless body, but far enough for me to want to reach between us and touch him.

“You look like you want it to happen again.” My throat bobs as I force myself to push down the lump and moan that is trying to claw its way out of my throat.

My clit throbs angrily, still sensitive and swollen from how many times they made me cum. My nipples tighten into painful peaks, aching from all the sucking, biting, and slapping.

Even my asshole twitches at the phantom memory of fingers and tongues exploring every filthy inch of me.

Fuck, I want more.

My body screams for it, craves their hands pinning me down, their cocks choking my throat and splitting me open again until I’m a sobbing, squirting mess.

But the whiskey’s gone now, and shame burns hotter than the lust. These are Malcolm’s best friends. My husband’s brothers-in-arms.

What the hell did I do?

I watch as Zephyr’s eyes rest on my chest, feeling the skin burn where his eyes land, but I shake off the filthy thoughts starting to run through my mind.

“I…. I need to leave,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from all the screaming and gagging last night. I push the covers off and swing my legs over the edge of the massive bed, but the moment I stand, cool air kisses my skin.

My pussy lips feel puffy and tender, still glistening, and I wonder how long it will take before it fully heals and I completely forget about having the greatest sex of my life with four brothers.

I’m rushing towards the door when Zephyr’s laugh stops me cold in my tracks. Another thing I hate with him and his brothers is how easily they get me to react.

I’m a strong, confident woman, but with these men, I don’t even know anymore. I want to drop the burden and let them ruin and pamper me like they did last night.

I shake those thoughts off too as I raise an eyebrow, refusing to let myself completely submit to them. “What?” I snap, glaring at him.

He drags in a long breath before exhaling. “You planning to walk out like that, Marian? Naked, with your pretty cunt still dripping down your thighs?”

“I wouldn’t mind the view one fucking bit. Every man in the city would lose their minds seeing you like this… tits bouncing, ass marked with our handprints, that fresh-fucked glow on your face. But tell me, Bunny, is that really what you want?”