Page 98 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

If Lucian is precise, Caleb is hungry.

He doesn’t circle. He doesn’t ask. He flattens his tongue and eats me like he has been waiting the entire wedding to do it. The scarred width of his shoulders keeps my legs apart. His stubble rasps the inside of my thighs. When he groans into me, the vibration punches a sob out of my throat.

“Caleb—”

Lucian pinches my nipple, then soothes it with his thumb. “Take what he’s giving you.”

Caleb slides one thick finger into me while he sucks my clit. I clamp down around it, startled, and he waits there, licking me through the panic until the stretch turns into need. A second finger joins the first, careful, slick, curling until my vision turns white at the edges.

I am so wet, so ready.

Lucian kisses the corner of my mouth. “I want to hear it from you.”

I can barely form words. My hips keep chasing Caleb’s mouth.

“Tell us.”

“Yes…” My voice breaks. “I need you. Please. I’m so—please.”

Caleb gives me one last, ruthless suck that has me crying out, then kisses the inside of my thigh and moves aside.

Lucian settles between my legs again. This time when I feel him, hot and blunt, my body still tightens—but it is not the same flinch. It is want, sharp and frightening and aching.

He pauses anyway.

Waiting.

I hook my shaking legs around him.

“Now,” I whisper. “I’m begging. That’s what you wanted.”

His forehead drops to mine.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That is exactly what I wanted.”

Once more, Caleb strokes his hand down my arm. “You’re ours.”

The words take me back to the altar. “Keep going.”

His eyes close for one brief second.

There is discomfort. More than I expected. He works into me in careful, devastating increments, watching my face like it is the only thing in the penthouse that matters. The stretch burns. I make a sound I don’t recognize.

“Sophie.”

“Take me.”

His control slips enough that he sinks the rest of the way with a groan that vibrates through both of us.

Full. Too much. Then—gradually—the sharpness gives way to heat. To something so intimate, it frightens me more than pain ever could.

Lucian kisses me while Caleb holds my hand, my hips, the back of my neck. They don’t rush. They don’t look away. When the discomfort finally thins into pleasure, Lucian finds a rhythm that makes my head fall back and my nails bite his shoulders.

“There,” Caleb murmurs. “That’s it. Take him.”

I do. God help me, I do.

When Lucian finally shudders and stills, I lie trembling against Caleb’s chest, overwhelmed, wrecked, still wanting.