Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One

Hailee's POV

Nathan's hands moved slowly and tenderly as he washed me with the soapy sponge. His touch lingered with an intimacy that made it impossible to tell if he was simply bathing me… or committing every inch of me to memory.

"Spread your legs," he murmured, the words low but carrying a note of authority that made my breath hitch. Heat bloomed across my cheeks, but I slowly let my knees drift apart under the warm water. Nathan's breath brushed my ear as his hand slid lower, the soapy sponge set aside.

"Let me wash you," he murmured.

I bit my lip, my heart pounding as his fingers parted me gently. The first touch was tentative, slow, but when his finger slipped inside my pussy, I couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped my lips. My head tipped back against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering shut.

His breath caught, a low groan rumbling in his chest. He moved his finger in slow, deliberate circles before pressing another inside me, stretching me slightly. My legs tensed, but the warm water and his steady grip kept me grounded.

I let out another breathy moan, and that's when I felt it—him, hard and insistent against my back, pressing through the water.

Nathan's jaw tightened against my temple. "Hailee…" he breathed, almost like a warning. "I should stop."

But I reached back, my hand finding his thigh under the water. "Don't," I whispered, my voice trembling but sure. "Please… keep going."

A quiet curse slipped past his lips, and I felt his self-control strain as his fingers began moving again—slow, deep, and deliberate—each stroke sending waves of pleasure curling low in my stomach. The water rippled around us, his other arm still locked tight around my waist, holding me close as though he couldn't bear to let go.

His fingers moved faster, the pressure and rhythm pushing me to the edge. I arched into his touch, my breath coming in uneven bursts, my own fingers finding my nipples, pinching and rolling them until a shudder ripped through me.

I couldn't hold back anymore. Lifting myself slightly, I turned to face him, my hand curling around the hot, rigid length of him, feeling the way he pulsed in my grip. He tried to speak—maybe to stop me, maybe to say my name—but I cut him off, guiding him to my entrance.

The moment the tip pressed against me, I froze for just a heartbeat, my breath catching as the memory of my first time flickered through me. This was only my second, and yet the ache to have him inside was stronger than the fear.

With a cry, I sank down, my body stretching to take him. The burn was sharp at first, stealing my breath, but then the heat spread through me, deep and consuming. My nails dug into his shoulders, and my eyes squeezed shut as I tried to steady myself against the overwhelming rush of sensation.

The moment I took all of him, my breath caught again. He was hot, solid, and every inch filled me until I felt stretched to my limit. My hands clung to his shoulders for balance, my nails biting into his skin as my body adjusted to the slow, aching fullness. His gaze locked on mine—dark, intense, brimming with heat that made my chest tighten.

I moved slowly at first, small rolls of my hips, testing the rhythm, learning the shape of him inside me. A shiver slid down my spine at the way his eyes followed every movement, like each shift of my body was undoing him.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low and rough, his hands sliding from my waist to my hips, guiding me without taking control. His touch was firm but patient, letting me set the pace, letting me find my confidence.

The friction built with each movement, a slow, delicious grind that had my breath growing shallow. My thighs began to tremble, but I didn't stop—I couldn't. The way he looked at me, the way his fingers flexed against my skin, made me feel powerful and wanted in a way I hadn't known before.

When I leaned forward, pressing my palms to his chest, he groaned, the sound rumbling through me. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer until our foreheads touched, our breaths mingling.

"You're beautiful like this," he whispered, and the sincerity in his voice made my chest ache almost as much as the pleasure building inside me.

I moved a little faster, feeling the heat coil low in my belly. His grip on my hips tightened before sliding lower to cup my ass, fingers spreading possessively over my skin. With a sharp pull, he thrust upward, the sudden depth stealing the air from my lungs. Water splashed around us with each movement, the sound mingling with the low, guttural noises he made against my ear. His hands shaped and kneaded my ass as if committing every curve to memory, sending heat shooting through me. A strangled moan tore from my throat, louder this time, my nails digging into his shoulders as his pace grew more demanding.

His pace quickened, each thrust deeper, faster, almost frantic, as though he needed to carve himself into me, to leave a part of himself behind. My nails dug into his shoulders, my breath catching on broken moans, the heat between us building until it burst. His body stiffened, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as he spilled into me, and I collapsed against his chest, boneless and trembling, my heartbeat thundering against his.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the water, the rise and fall of our chests. The air between us shifted—less fever, more fragile.

Nathan's arms tightened, holding me as though letting go would mean losing something more than my body. His lips brushed my ear, his voice low and unsteady.

"Please," he whispered, the word trembling. "Just be my mate. Be with me."

The plea lodged in my chest, heavy and aching. My throat burned as tears welled, spilling hot down my cheeks before I could stop them.

I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent I knew I might never breathe again. Because deep down, I already knew—once they found out I wasn't a virgin anymore, the punishment waiting for me would be far worse than anything I had endured before.