“Or I can stay.Until, you know, he makes you scream.I wouldn’t want to leave you needy.The books say leaving a pregnant woman craving release is a crime.”
Vesper laughs—breathless, wrecked.“Really?Where does it say that?”
It seems like she’s trying to laugh this off and make it disappear.But when I move to pull my fingers from her slick heat, she tightens around me.Her whole body clenches, and she shudders in my lap, hips jerking forward like she’s chasing something only I can give her.
My lips find the shell of her ear.“You want me to make you come, baby?”
She whimpers, her nails digging into my thigh.
“You want him to watch you fall apart?”I ask, my voice dragging hot and thick against her neck.“You want him to see what you look like when I fuck you with my fingers and you beg for more?”
“I—” Her voice stumbles, but her hips keep moving.
And Callaway—fuck—he steps closer, slow and sure, the way a man walks when he knows exactly what he’s walking into.
He leans in—his lips brushing her other ear as his voice dips into a place so low it feels like sin.
“Let me watch,” he says.“It’s the least you can do after letting him fill you while I was away, baby.”
She gasps.
Her entire body jumps at the sound of his voice, and when his hand cups her breast, her nipple already tight and waiting, her moan shreds through the silence.He rolls it between his fingers, then leans in and puts his mouth on her neck, sucking hard.
She arches—pressed between both of us—chasing, trembling, needing.
Her hips move again, grinding against my hand, against the base of my palm, harder now.Desperate.
Callaway lifts his head, mouth glistening.
“You heard her,” he says, his voice almost reverent.“Our Ves wants to come.”
He meets my eyes.
“Make it good.”
ChapterThirty-Six
Vesper
Callaway’s voice melts over me like something forbidden.
“Make it good.”
And God help me, I want them to.
I want them both.
Monty’s fingers are still deep inside me—curled just right, stroking that place that makes my vision blur.His thumb drags in slow, dizzying circles over my clit, patient but cruel, and I can’t think past the feeling.Past the stretch, the fullness, the slick sound of him working me open.
Then Cally’s mouth is on me again—leaving bruises on my neck, teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out—and I don’t know where to lean, who to hold onto, because I’m surrounded.Caged in by their hands and mouths and heat, and all I can do is take it.
I should stop this.
We should talk.
There’s so much we haven’t said, things that can’t be undone once we cross this line.
Sex is the one thing that broke us, and right now I should be the voice of reason, but I can’t.I need this so much.I want this.The physical release, the closeness.Kissing Monty after so many years is almost heaven, and then it’s Cally’s mouth that finds mine.
