Evan shuts off the water. “We need more space.”
“Kitchen,” I manage, voice wrecked already. “Staff’s gone for the weekend, and the counters are the right height.”
Callum’s grin goes feral. “Fuck yes.”
We don’t bother with towels. Callum lifts me off my feet and carries me dripping wet through the penthouse. My skin isstill hypersensitive from the orgasm, and every place our bodies touch sends fresh sparks through me.
Silas and Evan follow.
Callum sets me on the island. The marble is cold against my ass, and I hiss. The temperature shock makes my pussy clench reflexively.
“Too cold?” Evan’s already reaching for me.
“No.” I pull him closer. “I’m fine.”
Silas moves to the freezer and pulls out an ice tray.
Callum notices. “Oh, you’re bringing out the good stuff.”
“She can handle it.” Silas sets the tray on the counter beside me.
I watch him crack three cubes free. My heart rate kicks up again. I know what’s coming, and my body is already preparing—nipples tightening and skin prickling with anticipation.
“Evan.” Silas doesn’t look away from me. “Fuck her.”
Evan doesn’t need to be told twice. He positions himself between my legs, and his cock presses against my entrance. The blunt head nudges against me, and I’m still so wet from Silas’s mouth that there’s no resistance.
No condoms this time. I’m on birth control. And the trust is there.
“You ready for me, Wifey?”
“Yes.”
He pushes in with one smooth thrust.
I lean back against the marble, my back pressed to the hard surface.
He’s thick and hard, and the angle lets him go deep immediately. Every inch of him stretches me open, filling spaces that were empty seconds ago. The fullness borders on too much but stays just on the right side of perfect.
“Fuck, you feel good.” Evan grips my hips. “So fucking wet. I can tell how worked up Silas got you. Your pussy’s still fluttering from that orgasm.”
Silas picks up one of the ice cubes.
I watch him bring it to my collarbone. The first touch jerks me forward. The cold is so sharp it almost burns.
“Cold?” His mouth curves.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He drags it down between my breasts, and water trails behind. The droplets burn paths across my skin, while my nipples tighten even harder.
Evan starts moving. Slow thrusts that let me savor every inch of his length dragging against my inner walls. The friction is perfect. Not too much, not too little.
“Faster,” I beg.
“Not yet.” Silas circles the ice around my nipple. The cold peaks it impossibly harder. “You take what we give you.”
