His fingers curl just right, and my mouth parts before my brain can even attempt to establish control.
Guess that decision’s been made for me.
A broken, shattered moan rips from my throat, and when I turn to look at Talon—at those mismatched eyes that are now seared into my soul forever—I see a different kind of pleasure there.
Maybe he can’t feel me. But he can see me. And apparently, that’s more than enough.
He likes the view.
And just as that realization sinks in, the other two rejoin him, resuming their actions.
Cassian’s mouth is at my jaw, his breath fanning over my lips, his hand still buried in my hair. Nathaniel is playing with my nipples.
And together, they turn the feeling inside me into something uncontrollable.
I don’t know who groans first, but the moment one of them does, it’s over.
I rock my hips against Talon’s touch, grinding into his fingers like a woman possessed—pure, reckless desperation overriding anything that might have once been considered dignity.
“That's it, Little Grim,” he murmurs. “Take what you need.”
I do.
I move.
I press harder against his hand.
Nathaniel groans, low and wrecked.
“Gods, she’s so fucking—” He cuts himself off, his fingers digging into my thigh like he’s trying to personally confirm I’m still made of flesh and not some ethereal creature here to devour them whole. He spreads me wider—for Talon, for him, for all of them.
Cassian curses under his breath.
I shudder.
Talon’s fingers speed up, and I…fall.
Pleasure crashes through me, slamming into me like a wave, drowning me, flattening me into the astral plane where the only thing that exists is this. Them. This moment. My body locks up, my breath snags, and I shatter, crumbling like an ancient ruin finally giving in to the weight of time.
The world blurs. My vision goes white. I might actually be truly, irreversibly dead this time. Who’s to say?
Somewhere in the aftermath, I hear them breathing—rough, ragged, like wolves circling something fragile and trembling. Their hands linger, their bodies still pressed close, their hunger thrumming just beneath the surface.
And then Talon speaks.
Low. Hoarse.
Dark with something almost sinister.
“You’re back now,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers from between my thighs and up to my lips. “Aren’t you, Little Grim?”
I don’t answer.
I just part my lips.
And I taste.
His fingers slip past my tongue, and the entire world stops breathing.
