Dylan’s fingers slide into mine, squeezing. “You’re safe here,” he says. “Let go.”
I’m drowning in sensation, in them, in the terrifying rightness of it all. There are a hundred reasons to stop. To run and protect myself.
But none of them matter when their hands trace an inferno over my skin.
This may be a line I can never uncross, and I don’t care.
Not tonight when I’m giving in.
Because right now…
All I want is them.
14
ANITA
I’m sitting in the middle of the biggest bed I’ve ever seen, and I can barely think straight.
Mason is on my left, Dylan on my right, and they’re both so close that I sense the heat radiating from their bodies, smell their scents wrapping around me like they’re trying to claim every molecule of air in this room.
It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming. Drowning me in the best possible way.
Dylan’s hand rests on my thigh, fire burning through the denim of my jeans. Mason’s fingers are tracing the gold chain at my waist, following the delicate links.
“You’re trembling,” Mason observes, his voice dropping to that low register that goes straight between my legs.
“I must be cold,” I lie, and it’s such an obvious one that they both grin.
Dylan leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Liar. You’re burning up. I can feel the heat coming off you.”
He’s right. I’m on fire. Every nerve ending is screaming for attention, and I’m barely holding myself together. My hands are fisted in the duvet beneath me, knuckles white.
“Maybe I’m nervous,” I admit, my voice coming out breathier than I intended.
“About us?” Mason’s hand cups my face, turning me gently to look at him, and those golden-brown eyes are so warm, so genuinely concerned, that my chest squeezes. “Nothing to worry about except becoming completely obsessed with us.” He grins, then kisses me, soft and slow and devastating like he’s got all the time in the world and he’s going to use every second learning exactly how I like to be kissed. I melt into the way his mouth moves against mine with such patient hunger.
When he pulls back, I’m gasping. Mason laughs softly, his hands sliding under my crop top, fingertips tracing across my bare skin, which has me arching involuntarily. “I think we broke her already.”
“Not yet,” I manage, finding my voice somewhere. “But you’re welcome to keep trying.”
They both grin, glancing at each other with a slight challenge in their eyes. Mason’s hands are everywhere, exploring. When his fingers brush the underside of my breasts through the thin fabric of my top, I lean into the touch without thinking.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and the word sounds like a prayer.
Dylan’s mouth skims my throat, trailing heat across my collarbone.
Mason’s lips press against the other side of my neck, featherlight at first, then firmer, claiming more of me with every pass. I can’t tell whose hands are touching where anymore, only that my body is humming, strung tight, aching in places I didn’t know could feel like this.
I’m caught between them, breathless, raw with want. Every nerve sparks to life. Every brush of skin sends another waverolling through me. It’s not just lust. It’s hunger with no end. The kind that consumes.
And just like that, my mind flickers, unbidden, back to last night. Jasper’s mouth crashing into mine, the grip of his hands on my hips, the kiss that stole every coherent thought and left my knees useless. The wildness in it, the promise of more.
A shiver runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the hands on me now. That kiss lives under my skin, as alive as the mouths currently mapping out every inch of me.
But I’m not pulling away.
I’m leaning in.
