“Oh fuck,” I gasp, tilting my hips to give him better access. “Yes. Please.”
Talon licks his lips and obliges. Nathaniel’s expression smooths, as if all is forgiven. And Cassian—
Cassian’s hand in my hair tightens. His other hand fists the leather beside my hip, like he’s holding himself back from shoving Talon across the damn car.
Instead he growls.
“Look at me while he touches you, Skye. Don’t look away. Don’t look at him.”
God, he’s so close. Like he wants to erase everyone else from the car. Like he wants me completely to himself.
And yet, all he can do is share me. He watches with a dark, possessive gaze as Talon’s fingers dip lower and find where I’m soaked. He watches as the other killer in this car drags his tongue across my pulse, making me moan.
“She doesn’t need to look at me to show how much she wants this,” Talon breathes. “She’s dripping, Cass. Coating my fingers like she was made for it.”
Yes. I’m so wet I don’t need any more warmup. And more than that, I can feel the power building inside me. It hums thick and electric, like the air before a storm. It crackles across my skin with every breath, every movement.
And that’s only the beginning.
Nathaniel shifts. I glance down. He’s unbuckling.
“We’ll need to coordinate,” he says. “We don’t have much time.”
“You’re thinking logistics when there’s a writhing woman in front of you?” Talon laughs against my shoulder. “You’re so fucking lame, man.”
“Shut up,” Nathaniel says, and I shudder. That voice... It’s hot enough to unravel me alone. “Fast is what Skye wants. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes. I want it. Fast.”
Cassian’s mouth crashes back onto mine, sudden and rough. His tongue thrusts deep while Talon picks up the pace between my legs. His fingers slide in and out, curling on the way out, slick with me.
“Let’s…” I breathe against Cassian’s mouth. “Stop the foreplay. I’m ready.”
Talon drags his fingers up to my clit, circling it with figure-eights that make my eyes roll back.
“Come on, Little Grim,” he whispers. “Don’t be like that.”
It’s not fair. None of this is fair. This is supposed to be a power ritual. A surge. A tactical charge-up before a mission. I need to save that kid. I know that.
But leave it to Talon to make it feel like foreplay on Olympus.
If only I wasn’t so turned on...
“It’s not me,” I pant, writhing beneath his fingers. “It’s you.”
Cassian bites my lower lip. “Then tell us how you want it. Say it.”
Talon’s fingers pause, just a breath, and the world seems to still with them.
He’s waiting.
He wants me to lead.
To take what I want.
Shit.
I meet Cassian’s mismatched eyes, one sharp and green, the other pale and clouded like summer haze, and let out a shaky breath. There’s no shame left in me. No hesitation. Just heat. Just need.
