I shift in Wes’s arms, turning toward Stellan, and reach for him. My hand finds his jaw, stubble rough under my palm. “Stay?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
Stellan pauses, his gray eyes searching mine for something—permission, certainty, maybe both. Then he crashes his mouth into mine.
This kiss isn’t like Wes’s. It’s harder, desperate, like he’s been holding back for so long that now he’s letting go, he can’t stop. His hand threads through my hair, gripping tight, and I press closer, moaning into his mouth. The Ether explodes around us, silver light flooding the room, wrapping around all three of us.
Wes’s hand slides to my waist, fingers digging into my hip, and Stellan’s other hand grips my thigh, tugging me closer. The combined touch is overwhelming—magic and need and heat tangled together until I can’t think.
I pull back just enough to breathe, and Stellan’s eyes have gone molten silver, his control cracking at the edges. “Bree,” he says, and it sounds like a warning and a plea all at once.
“I want this,” I gasp, my voice steadier than I feel. “I want both of you.”
Wes sits up slightly, and there’s something different in the way he moves now—confident, purposeful, like he’s stepped fully into the power he’s been growing into. “Then lie back,” he commands, and the authority in his voice makes me shiver.
I do.
The sheets are cool against my skin, and I’m suddenly aware of how little I’m wearing—just a thin nightgown that clings to me, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Stellan shifts beside me, and I watch the way his gaze tracks to Wes. There’s raw want in his eyes, his jaw clenched tight, his breathing controlled but shallow. Like he’s barely holding himself together.
“We’re going to take care of you,” Wes says, his hand sliding up my thigh, slow and deliberate. The touch sends heat racing through me, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. “But we’re going to do this right.”
“Wes—” I start, but his finger presses against my lips, silencing me.
“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice rough but steady. He looks at Stellan. “Help me.”
Stellan’s eyes flash silver. “Carefully.”
“Always.” Wes’s hands find the hem of my nightgown, and he looks at me, waiting for permission. I nod, trembling, and he lifts the fabric slowly, revealing inch after inch of bare skin.
Stellan’s hands join his, their fingers brushing as they peel the nightgown up and over my head. I’m left in nothing but my underwear and the silver light of the Ether wrapping around us.
I expect to feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way they’re both looking at me—like I’m something precious and powerful—makes me feel anything but.
“Beautiful,” Wes murmurs, his hand tracing up my ribs, fingertips dragging slow patterns across my skin. Stellan’s hand mirrors the path on my other side, his touch more deliberate, like he’s memorizing every inch of me.
When Stellan’s thumb brushes the underside of my breast, I gasp, arching into his touch. “Careful,” Wes says, but there’s no reprimand in it—just a reminder. “Slow.”
“I know,” Stellan growls, his voice strained. His eyes find mine. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
It’s not. God, it’s not even close to enough.
Wes leans down, his mouth hot against my skin as he kisses a trail down my stomach. Every touch sends shivers through me, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Stellan’s mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing that sensitive spot just below my ear, and the combination makes me arch off the bed.
“Easy,” Wes murmurs against my skin, but his hands are tight on my hips, fingers digging in just enough to ground me. “We’ve got you.”
Stellan’s hand slides between my thighs, over my damp underwear, and the pressure makes me whimper. “Here?” he asks, his voice rough.
“Not yet.” Wes’s hand covers Stellan’s, guiding it away. “She needs more first.”
I watch Stellan’s jaw clench, his whole body taut with restraint. He wants to touch me—badly—but he’s holding back, letting Wes guide this. Like Wes sees something I don’t yet—knows what I need before I do.
Wes’s fingers hook into my underwear, dragging them down slowly. I lift my hips to help, and Stellan’s hand moves to my stomach, holding me steady while Wes finishes pulling them off.
Wes shifts lower, settling between my thighs. His hands slide up the inside of my legs, gentle but firm, and then his mouth is on me—tongue sliding through my wet heat—and I cry out.
The pleasure is immediate, sharp, and overwhelming. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open, but he doesn’t rush. He takes his time, learning what makes me shake, what makes me gasp.
Stellan’s mouth finds mine, swallowing the sounds I make. His hand moves to my breast, thumb circling my nipple in time with Wes’s tongue, and the layered sensations make my head spin.
