Roan had been busy while we fucked her. The bedroom was prepared, the sheets drawn back, a cover peeking out from under the fitted sheet. The sight of Wren sprawled on her back, legsapart with all of our come glistening between her thighs made my mouth water.
Then Roan was there with a cool cloth and she let out a cry and tried to escape him cleaning her up. I joined them in holding her still, wiping her down and then rolling her over to clean her ass as well.
“Drink,” Roan ordered, pressing the bottle to her lips. Wren’s eyes flashed fire and for a moment, the woman we adored was right there, glaring back at him. “There you are…” He brushed his knuckles down her flushed cheek. “There you are.”
“Roan,” she whispered his name in a rough croak. Then her gaze slid to me. “Jay…” When Rhett reappeared, she let out a sigh. “Rhett.”
Languor infused her frenetic movements and she blew out a long breath. Some of the cloud in her eyes drifted away and when Roan cupped her cheek, she covered his hand with hers even as she reached out a hand toward me. When she would have twisted, Rhett came to sit on the bed next to her.
“We’re here,” I promised. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
WREN
The desperation began to climb once again before they even finished wiping me down. Exhaustion and need twined through me to begin fanning the flames that seemed barely quenched, despite the ferociousness of their taking. Flushed and burning beneath my skin, I wantedmore.
What control I’d found on the run to get here—was gone. Utterly destroyed. Every bit of it shattered like thin ice under their blades. My throat, my cunt, even my ass were all well-used and the orgasms still echoed in the ripples of my body even as the taste of them lingered on my tongue.
You’d have thought that was enough. But no, the fever climbed. Jay rubbed my arm, the contact should soothe but it just made me shift as need curled under skin, demanding, prescient and fierce.
Roan stood there, one knee on the bed as he held out another bottle of water toward me, a god carved from stone and willpower. The weight of him dominated the room and even as Rhett eased onto the bed on my other side.
His wet hair, and red-flushed skin betrayed the shower he’d taken. I hadn’t even realized the water was on, but Jay presseda kiss to my shoulder before he slid off the bed and I tracked his passage to the bathroom.
The water came on again as Rhett lifted me until I was in his lap, my back to his chest—the contact of skin on skin sent me up in flames. I couldn’t have stopped the moan I released even if I had wanted to, and currently, it wasn’t even a distant thought on the horizon.
A soft laugh escaped Rhett as he pressed a line of kisses along my throat and I tilted my head to give him access even as my gaze latched onto Roan’s. His chest rose and fell slowly, his eyes drinking me in as I unraveled.
“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice didn’t sound like mine. Too breathless. Too hollow.
“You’re not.” He closed the distance between us in a slow, almost sinuous motion. The touch of his finger to my cheek another point of pleasurable burn so intense it almost hurt. My body was already going softer, melting into Rhett even as I reached up to clasp Roan’s wrist. They felt so good. “You’re dehydrated. Your blood sugar’s tanking. You need food.”
“I need you.” The words ripped out of me before I could stop them. “I need you so fucking bad?—”
“Eat first,” he said, firm and unrelenting. “Then we talk.”
“Idon’t want to fucking eat,” I snapped, desire transforming into fury. Couldn’t he feel the fever in my skin? The slick already coating my thighs? The demand of the hunger wrenching me inside out? “I’m dying, Roan, Ihurt. You have no idea how much?—”
Rhett’s cock was against my ass and so hard, all I had to do was rise up a little and I could fill myself with him. Gorge on him.
Roan shifted his grip so fast, I didn’t see it coming. He fisted my hair, yanking my head back just enough that I gasped. Rhett’s fingers flexed against my hips, the bite of them as sharp as the pain against my scalp.
“Stop.” Roan’s voice was low. Lethal. “Listen to me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, but I went still. Even the writhing under my skin went quiet, quiescent… playing dead at his command.
“This is going to get worse before it gets better. You think you’re desperate now?” His fingers tightened slightly in my hair. Not cruel. Controlled. “You need strength to survive this. If you pass out or crash or go into shock, you think I’m going to let anyone touch you then? You thinkIwould? You want this? Then you keep your body functioning first. You keep your mind here with us.”
I blinked up at him, caught in the weight of his gaze. The words were harsh, but his scent—God, hisscent—wrapped around me like warm smoke, grounding and infuriating at once.
My lip trembled. I hated how close I was to crying. Hated how deep this need carved through me. He was right. Ididneed strength. But more than that, I neededthem.
Roan held me still, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “Do you understand me, Wren?”
I swallowed, throat tight. “Yes.”
