“Don’t you think,” she says softly, “you three deserve some attention, too?”
Zane chuckles under his breath. Asher runs a hand through his damp hair, eyes flicking over her in a silent yes. I feel my own pulse jump, the need stirring again. There’s no time to second-guess.
Mia slips away from the shower’s direct stream and sinks to her knees on the wet tile, bracing a hand on the wall for balance. She looks up, meeting each of our eyes in turn. There’s no hesitation there, just trust and desire.
Zane’s the first to move, stepping closer, water still dripping off his body. Mia reaches out, fingers curling around his cock with a confidence that has him exhaling in a low, rough sound. She glances over her shoulder, beckoning Asher and me. We close in, our heartbeats thumping in a shared rhythm.
She starts with Zane, her mouth slow and deliberate, one hand braced on his thigh as her lips part around him. He groans, bracing a hand against the wall. My own body tightens at the sight—her hair sleek with water, the motion of her shoulders as she takes him deeper.
Asher moves in behind her, leaning down to kiss her shoulder, fingers ghosting over her side. I brush a lock of hair from her face, my pulse pounding. She turns her attention to me next, hooking an arm around my leg to draw me in. Mybreath hitches when she takes me in, the sensation so sudden and electric, I have to steady myself with a hand on her damp shoulder.
Zane’s breathing is ragged now, but he slips aside, letting Asher have his turn. Mia doesn’t miss a beat, shifting so Asher can slide between her lips. The wet tile makes every move precarious, but we manage, the tight space forcing us closer than ever. My own cock throbs at the memory of her mouth, the way she looked at me while she did it.
One by one, we lose control, the strain of the day and the rush of adrenaline fueling every second. It’s overwhelming: the water trickling down, the low groans echoing in this cramped bathroom, Mia’s quiet moans as she works us over. Each of us breaks, tension snapping like a bowstring—Zane first, then me, then Asher, muffled curses and shuddering breaths mingling with the last of the shower’s warmth.
My come splatters all over her face and neck. Asher and Zane join until she’s full of us.
Mia leans back, eyes shut, chest rising and falling. And then her tongue whips out as she licks around her mouth. Fuck, that’s hot.
Traces of our release drip away under the fading spray, and none of us speak for a long moment. Eventually, Asher reaches for the soap, handing it to her with a small, self-conscious grin.
We help her clean up, soft touches and murmured apologies where nails scraped or teeth caught. The water runs cold by the time we’re done, and Mia laughs shakily, letting me haul her upright.
Zane shuts off the shower, and Asher grabs towels. I keep one arm around Mia, making sure her legs don’t give out.
I carry Mia from the bathroom, water still dripping from her skin, her breath ragged from the shower’s heat and everything that came before. Zane and Asher follow behind us, towels slungover their shoulders. The moment we step into the bedroom, Mia’s fingers curl around my arm, a silent signal that she’s ready for more.
I set her down on the edge of the bed, and she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed. My chest tightens at the sight of her, water beading across her bare skin.
Zane steps in first, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. “Still okay?” he murmurs. His voice is rough, eyes flicking between her and me.
Mia nods, reaching out. “I want this. All of you.”
Her words cut through whatever hesitation I still have. I let my towel fall, and so do Zane and Asher. The lamp beside the bed casts warm light over us, shadows dancing on the walls. We exchange a quick look of silent agreement before Mia tugs Zane closer, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss.
Asher settles next to her on the mattress, brushing his knuckles along her thigh. Her breathing catches when Zane cups her breast, thumb passing over the nipple in a deliberate motion. Meanwhile, Asher leans in, lips trailing along her neck, leaving damp traces that make her shiver.
My turn. I press against her back, guiding her down onto the mattress. She shifts her legs, making room for me between her thighs. Zane eases aside, letting me claim her mouth in a kiss that’s all raw hunger, her taste still fresh on my lips from the shower. She moans into it, one hand tangling in my hair as Asher and Zane trace their palms over her body, searching and sure. I lick between the valley of her breasts, all the way to the mouth of her cunt, feeling her shudder.
Eventually, I ease away and Zane takes over first, positioning himself over her, his cock rubbing against her thigh. Mia arches up, inviting him in. It’s a surreal sight—Zane’s careful focus, Mia’s soft gasp, Asher right beside them, and me at her other side, running my fingers through her damp hair, grounding her.
He leans in, bracing one hand by her head, the other cupping her tit, thumb flicking over her nipple. Mia tips her head back, eyes half-lidded, a low moan escaping her throat the moment he pushes in.
Zane sets a slow rhythm first, coaxing soft whimpers out of Mia, his mouth dipping to kiss her neck, her shoulder, her lips—anywhere he can reach.
Mia arches, pressing her chest closer. She wraps her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. Zane groans, a rough, breathy sound that comes from low in his chest. They’re both lost in the moment, his pace quickening until he’s panting, thrusting hard enough to rock the bed.
It doesn’t take long—too much adrenaline, too much hunger—and Zane’s voice catches on her name. His hips stutter, Mia letting out a gasp as he comes, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder.
He pulls out, panting, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Then he shifts aside, still catching his breath, and I move in.
Mia lifts her head, meeting my gaze, her lips parted. She gives a faint smile—inviting me with no hesitation. I slide my hand beneath her lower back, lifting her slightly, positioning myself at her entrance. My cock throbs, already wet from the shower and from watching her with Zane.
She cups my cheek, her eyes flicking over my face. I tilt my head to kiss her palm, then guide myself in, groaning when her warmth envelops me. Her nails scrape along my arms, shoulders tensing, and a broken moan leaves her throat.
I keep the pace measured at first, each thrust drawing out a quiet cry from her lips. But the sight of her—head thrown back, tits heaving as she breathes—drives me to push harder, deeper. She wraps her legs around me, heels digging into my thighs, and I lose the last bit of restraint.
The room fills with the slap of skin on skin, punctuated by her high, breathless moans. My vision tunnels on the curve of her neck, the arch of her back, the squeeze of her body around me. I feel the familiar coil of pleasure building low in my spine, cresting fast. I reach down, gripping her hip to keep from losing my balance.
