Mias POV

Warm hands. Too many hands.

A soft touch brushed my cheek, fingers tracing the curve of my jaw. Another slid against my arm, slow, deliberate. Heat prickled my skin, spreading like wildfire.

My eyelids fluttered, the world hazy as I tried to move. Something firm, warm, strong, was pressing against memultiple someones.

Then, lips.

Soft, lingering. A press of warmth against my ...