The thought sends a fresh wave of arousal crashing through me. My cock throbs against my stomach, already painfully hard, and the emptiness between my legs aches with a desperation that borders on agony.
I need?—
God, I need?—
My hips roll without conscious permission, seeking friction that isn’t there. The motion disturbs Phoenix, who makes a soft sound of protest and burrows closer. Her thigh slides between mine, pressing against my erection, and the contact tears a moan from my throat before I can stop it.
“Mace?” Her voice is sleep-rough, confused. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I manage, which is perhaps the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever told. “Go back to sleep.”
But she’s already lifting her head, amber eyes blinking away sleep as she takes in my flushed face, my heaving chest, the desperate way I’m pressing against her thigh.
“Oh.” Her expression softens with understanding. “Another wave?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
The heat has been coming in cycles since it started—cresting and receding like tides, leaving me wrung out between each surge. This wave feels different, though. Stronger. More urgent. Like something building toward a breaking point I can’t quite see.
Phoenix’s hand slides up my chest, fingers tracing the line of my collarbone. “What do you need?”
You. Both of you. Everything.
“I don’t—“ The words stick in my throat. Even now, even after everything, asking for what I want feels impossible. “I can take care of it myself. You don’t have to?—“
“Mason.” Her voice carries a familiar note of exasperation. “We’ve been over this. You don’t have to handle everything alone anymore.”
Movement at my back. Judah’s arm tightens around my waist as he stirs, his nose pressing into the curve of my neck. I feel the rumble of his voice against my spine before I hear it.
“Mace? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Another lie, equally transparent. “Just the heat. It’ll pass.”
Judah’s breath fans hot across my nape as he inhales deeply. A shudder runs through him, the arm around my waist going tense.
“You smell incredible,” he murmurs against my skin. “Like chamomile and sex.”
Heat floods my face. “Judah?—”
“We’ve got you.” His lips brush my shoulder, feather-light. “Whatever you need.”
The combined assault—Phoenix’s fingers still tracing patterns on my chest, Judah’s mouth on my shoulder, both of their scents wrapping around me like a physical embrace—shatters something inside me.
I roll over to face Judah, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to drag him closer. His eyes go wide with surprise before I crush my mouth against his.
The kiss is graceless and desperate, more teeth than technique. I don’t care. I need this like I need air, needhimlike I’ve needed nothing else in my entire miserable life.
Judah recovers fast. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, angling my head for better access. He kisses me back with a decade of hunger behind it—slow and thorough and devastating, tongue sliding against mine in ways that make my toes curl.
Behind me, Phoenix presses closer. Her lips find the nape of my neck, teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive skin there. One hand slides down my stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of my boxers.
“Is this okay?” Her breath is warm against my ear.
I break away from Judah long enough to gasp out a “yes” before his mouth finds mine again.
Phoenix’s hand slips beneath the elastic.
Her fingers wrap around my cock and I nearly come apart right there. I moan into Judah’s mouth, hips jerking forward into her grip, back arching off the mattress.
