Page 180 of The Next Lie

“Yes.”

Shiloh smiles against her cheek. “Our girl has excellent manners when properly motivated.”

Her eyes flash. “Don’t get smug.”

“Too late.”

I put my hand at the back of her neck and kiss her until the laugh becomes breath. Then I sit on the bench and pull her onto my lap, guiding her knees on either side of my hips.

She braces her hands on my shoulders.

Shiloh moves behind her.

Her attention flicks there.

I catch her chin. “Stay with me first.”

I position myself and wait.

She lowers herself onto me slowly, and every bit of air leaves my lungs. Her body takes me inch by inch, hot and tight, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she sinks down. I hold her hips, forcing myself to let her set the pace because that is the point. Her choice. Her rhythm. Her body deciding how much.

When she is fully seated, she drops her forehead to mine.

“Okay?” I ask.

She nods, then shifts her hips experimentally.

A sound tears out of me before I can stop it.

Her mouth curves.

“Found something,” she whispers.

I grip her hips harder. “Don’t get smug.”

“Too late.”

Shiloh’s hand slides along her spine. “Still with us, sweetheart?”

She looks over her shoulder at him. “Yes.”

He bends and kisses her, softer than I expect. She relaxes into it, still filled by me, still moving in small, careful rolls that make my vision tighten.

Shiloh’s gaze comes to mine, a question in eyes. I nod once.

He takes his time preparing her, fingers slick, patient, checking every sound she makes. Reva’s breathing turns ragged. Her forehead drops to my shoulder. I keep one hand at her hip and the other along her jaw, leaning back against the wall to position her and holding her where I can see her face when Shiloh presses closer.

“Words,” he says.

She lifts her head, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “I want it.”

Shiloh presses into her, breaching the tight ring of her ass slowly from behind.

Her mouth opens without sound. I stop breathing with her at the increased sensation.

Every muscle in her body tightens. Her nails bite into my shoulders, and I hold still, buried inside her, letting Shiloh give her what she asked for one careful inch at a time.

“Breathe,” I say.