“Fuck,” he murmurs. “She’s soaked already.”
“Let’s get this off you,” Silas mutters, already working at the buttons of my jeans, his hands feverish and shaking.
He drags them down, takes the peach lace with them, and suddenly I’m bare to all of them. I shiver, not from cold, but from the way they’re looking at me. In this moment, I’m everything they need.
Silas dives between my thighs, his mouth a furnace.
He licks a slow, intense stripe along me. His tongue is clever and persistent, and I jerk involuntarily, my hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.
Boone crowds in behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me still, and I realize he’s unbuttoned his shirt, baring sun-burnt skin that’s hot and hard against myshoulder blades. His mouth presses against my neck just below my ear, his words rough velvet against my skin.
“Let go,” he murmurs. “Let us.”
Caleb’s hands splay my knees wider, holding me open as Silas works his magic, his tongue setting a slow, devastating rhythm. My vision goes white. Candles blur into a gilded haze.
Boone’s hands slide beneath my shirt, palming my breasts and squeezing just the way I love. His thumbs circle the peaked tips through the soft cotton, coaxing me higher until my lungs forget how to fill. I cry out, the sound raw and unfiltered.
Boone steps back just enough to strip, and my eyes lock on his body, his cock already hard and thick, curving up toward his stomach. He strokes himself lazily as he watches Silas work between my legs, and the sight alone nearly undoes me.
“Silas,” I pant, reaching back. “Please.”
He doesn’t make me say it twice. His jeans hit the floor in seconds. He turns me around, and I feel him, hot and heavy, against my lower back.
Silas’s cock traces the curve of my ass as he wraps my hair around his fist and tugs my head back until I’m staring straight into Boone’s hungry mouth.
Boone kisses me fiercely. Hot, bruising, tasting of bourbon and want. His body pins me down, and for a suspended second, I am weightless, pure sensation, nothing but hands and mouths and the velvet rasp of tongues, teeth, skin.
Silas shifts, lining himself to my entrance. I arch, already slick and trembling, so ready I could weep. The first push is slow and patient, grinding against every sweet spot inside me. I gasp, and Boone swallows the sound, kissing me so deeply my vision spot blacks.
Caleb’s hands never stop moving, mapping me with red-hot focus, exploring what makes me tremble and what makes me plead. The way he looks at me is my undoing. I’m half mad whenSilas pushes in all the way, and I keen, body split on the knife edge of too much andmore more more.
Boone’s hand slides up, tangling in my hair again, holding me steady so I can’t flinch away from the pleasure even if I wanted to. He whispers to me as I writhe, promises and filth braided with secret kindness.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “So good for us, aren’t you? Look at how beautiful you are.”
Silas sets a ruthless pace, pounding me against the slick table, friction building between wood and sweat and want. My thighs tremble, vision dissolving into pinpricks of fire as I clutch the table’s edge, knuckles bleached.
Caleb whispers my name as he thumbs the spot above where Silas is splitting me wide, gentle and devastatingly precise. I choke on his name.
I’m being remade. Boone’s teeth graze my ear; his arms cradle me as I tip hard into the pleasure, my body shuddering so violently Silas has to lock his palms around my hips just to keep me from sliding off the table.
The sound I make is a wounded, astonished sob. Half laugh, half cry. Everything boils down to this moment: sensation, gasping heat, every body pressed to mine, every mouth speaking my name.
“I want…” The sentence never finishes, because Caleb leans in, his tongue tracing slow circles, and I splinter apart.
I come with their names on my lips, a single desperate exhale, the world shuddering around me as my body is held in a holy trinity of arms, every nerve ending rung.
When I remember how to move, I find Boone’s hand still in my hair, his mouth split in a radiant, toothy grin. He looks so proud of me, it nearly breaks me. Silas sags against me, breathing hard, whispering,
“Wow, that was…” before letting his head fall to my shoulder, lips sticky with the evidence of us.
Caleb helps me upright, his hands soothing and careful. He’s the only one still clothed, and the power of his stillness steals my breath. I watch as he reaches into his pocket and removes a fine silk handkerchief, my laughter hitching when he dabs methodically at the corners of my mouth as if I’m a delicacy he’s determined to keep neat.
“Worth the wait,” he says, eyes flaring.
Boone’s hand settles on my waist, steering me toward his lap until I’m straddling him, knees digging into the bench, and face-to-face with a smile that threatens to end me.
He just pulls me in, mouth devouring mine, tongue sweeping past my lips until I’m tasting myself mixed with the wild sweetness of his hunger. The curve of his cock nudges between my thighs, a blunt insistence that leaves me dizzy.
