Page 167 of What We Become

“One.”

The second strike lands across the other cheek, and I choke on my own breath, thighs shaking against the velvet. “Two.”

Eli doesn’t pause. The third comes harder, snapping against already tender skin. Knox’s hands return to my hips, holding me steady. “Three.”

My voice is breaking. I don’t care. The fourth makes me sob, a raw sound that fills the room and spills out across the club floor. “Four.”

“Last one,” Eli warns, and I brace for it, every muscle coiling tight.

It crashes down like a promise kept, and I scream again—“Five!”—my whole body jerking forward into Knox’s waiting arms. Tears are streaming now, hot and uncontrolled, mixing with sweat as I gasp against the chaise.

Eli’s hand finds my jaw, tilting my face up toward the mirror. “Look at yourself.”

I force my eyes open. My reflection stares back—mask still in place, collar gleaming, ass striped with twenty-five red marks already beginning to bruise. The men around me are hard shadows and hungry eyes, their masks hiding everything but their need.

“Tell me what you see,” Eli demands.

“Proof.” My voice cracks.

“Of what?”

“That I’m still here. That every handprint burning across my ass is one I asked for.” A wet laugh catches in my throat. “And that I still want more.”

Twenty-four strangers are watching, but the answer is for the five men around me.

“Everything,” I remind them. “I said I wanted everything.”

Micah slides two fingers between my thighs. “Jesus, baby girl. You’re dripping.”

“Show them,” Eli instructs.

Micah’s gaze meets mine in the mirror, and I nod.

“Show everyone watching what you all do to me.”

Micah turns his wrist, spreading my slick over my swollen flesh before lifting his shining fingers toward the glass.

Eli appears beside him and catches Micah’s wrist. His mouth closes around the offered fingers, sucking them clean while his eyes stay locked on mine.

Every wet pull of his mouth goes out through the speakers.

“Good?” Micah asks him.

“Amazing.” Eli releases his fingers with a soft pop. “I think it’s time to get the vibrator.”

“Oh! Me! Me! I’ll get it!” Milo moves so quickly he almost trips over my dress.

Knox lifts me from the chaise and turns me around. My ass protests when it meets the velvet, the sting making me hiss, but he doesn’t leave me there. He sits, drags me over him, and settles my back against his chest so we’re both facing the mirror.

His mouth finds the place where the collar meets my neck.

“Watch,” he murmurs.

Holden unfastens Knox’s pants while I’m sitting on him.

The casual intimacy of it catches me somewhere tender. Holden’s hand disappears between my legs and wraps around Knox, guiding him through my slick until the broad head presses against me.

Knox grips my hips.