Her fingers tighten around mine. That silent action is all I need.
“I can’t put into words what those three guys mean to me. There just aren’t any. Our relationship’s… complicated.” I bite my lip but push myself to keep going. “What we’ve got is built on a lot of pain, on trust, on all the shit we’ve survived—alone, and together.”
I pause, glancing away, then force myself to meet her eyes again.
“But the idea of you being the centre of us all… holding us together? Our anchor. But so muchmorethan that, Red. Not just someone we desire, but someone we worship and share. Someone who completes us—and, maybe, we could help complete you too?” I pause for a second. “If you’d let us. That’s it. That’s everything I’ve ever wanted. A real unit. And a love like that doesn’t leave room for jealousy. It’s too big for that.”
That was… hard.
I study our hands, turning them slightly to see how perfectly our fingers fit.
“Sai.” She’s a siren. The soft caress of my name lures me to her.
I look up and fuck, she’s so close, one tiny movement and I could brush my lips with hers.
“That was beautiful.” No, she is beautiful. “And… hypothetically.” Her small smirk is so tempting, but I’m trying to be good. “What you described would be… incredibly hard to resist.”
“Then don’t resist,” I murmur, my desperation so clear as my eyes flit from her mouth to her eyes.
She wants this.
Me.
Us.
But she keeps resisting.
Fuck being good. Maybe if I just show her… just make her remember how we felt together, how we could feel again. Everything is rushing through my head so fast that I’m closing the distance without giving a fuck about the consequence, I just need to—
I frown, eyes shut. I’m touching something soft, but not soft enough to be lips. I open them and find myself staring straight into hers.
“Sai,” she purrs, slowly shaking her head.
I groan against her fingers. I was so close, so fucking close to her lips.
But I’m still touching her, and I’ll take every scrap she lets me have.
I lift my other hand, clasping hers against my mouth, holding it there even when she tries to pull away.
Never breaking eye contact, I kiss her fingertips. The length of each finger. The top of her palm. The centre. I only lose her eyes when I reach her wrist.
“You’re going to tease me like this?” I whisper, kissing my way back along her palm, over her fingers, before locking onto her heated gaze.
“Isn’t this what you like?” Her voice is soft and rough, but she still manages to quirk a brow. “Edging?”
I moan, loud, right against her hand. Fucking hell. How did this get so dirty?
She’s smirking, red gaze gleaming. Then her hand shifts, and I let mine drop, ready for her to pull away.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, her palm cups my jaw, and I lean straight into it.
Her thumb brushes along my lips, and I part them without thinking. The tip edges into my mouth, and I close my lips around it.
My hands stay down—one still holding hers in my lap, the other twitching with the need to drag her into me, onto me.
But I know I’d lose her. Lose this. So I don’t.
