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It’s such a weird feeling for him to be right. I want to come more than anything right now, but the denial is making it better and worse at the same time. It makes me want to do what they say, so I nod my understanding.

Ares gives me another kiss, just as soft and light as the last, but he whispers, “Good girl,” against my mouth, and that gets another moan from me.

Then they really start driving me insane. It’s like they want me to come. Callan is fucking me with three fingers, thrusting them in and out of my pussy, filling the room with the wet sounds of how much I need him right now.

Ares and Tate each take a side, sucking my nipples, touching my sensitive skin, alternating kisses and bites that leave me gasping. Just when I get used to that, they switch places again. They move me so they have more access to my body, and Ares and Tate get between my legs, the two of them trading off eating me out.

They do it so differently that I can’t get my bearings, can’t relax into it. They keep me on the edge, one of them licking and lapping at my clit and the other working his tongue deep into me like he wants to taste everything I have to offer.

Callan slicks up his fingers with my leaking pussy and then starts probing at my ass. The first touch makes me go stiff with surprise, but the feeling of his large finger stroking around the rim soon sends pleasure shooting through me.

The heat and sensation build and build, and I almost crash over the edge, but remember to gasp out “Red,” before I can.

Immediately they back off.

“Good girl,” Tate says, kissing my inner thigh. “You’re so good for us.”

He says it like maybe there’s going to be a reward for being good, but instead they just move around me again.

I end up flat on my back once more, this time with Tate between my legs. His cock is in his hand, and I’m almost hypnotized by the sight of him stroking it. It’s still weeping at the tip, and my mouth floods with the phantom taste of it.

“Please,” I pant. “Please, I want it.”

“Oh, I’m going to give it to you,” he says with a grin. “But I don’t think it’s going to do you much good.”

Before I can ask what that’s supposed to mean, he’s pressing into me. I’m so wet and worked up that he slides in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out in me to the hilt.

I cry out, arching and clenching around him, and Tate sets a deep, hard pace. He wraps one hand around my ankle, drawing my leg up so my foot is flat on the bed and he can get an even deeper angle.

My head falls back against the pillow, my eyes fluttering closed, and I moan with each inward stroke, moving closer and closer to that peak.

And then he pulls out.

“No,” I whine. “Tate, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Ares says. “I’ve got you.”

He slides in right after Tate, picking up where he left off. His thrusts are faster, but just as deep, and I claw at the sheets, twisting under him as he fucks me.

“Please, please, please,” I chant, the word not even making sense in my head anymore. All I know is I want to come. I want the satisfaction of the pleasure reaching completion.

But then Ares is pulling out, and I sob with frustration.

Callan moves in next, and just the act of him pressing into me is almost enough to have me coming on the spot. He must know that because he draws it out. Where the others fucked me, Callan just lets me feel the weight of him as he feeds his cock in inch by inch.

He stops several times, watching me squirm before he gives me more.

And then just as soon as I’m right there, right there on the edge, he pulls away completely, and the loss is overwhelming.

I feel out of my head with the need to be filled. I get so deep into it that I stop being able to tell which one is which. It’s just sensation, the feeling of the deep press of cock inside me, the slick slide of them fucking me, and then the gaping ache of being empty when they pull away.

I try to hold on to them, try to clench and hold them deep inside me, but they don’t let it happen. It takes less and less time for me to get right there, to almost come, but they don’t let me reach my peak. They don’t even need me to say ‘red’ half the time, they can just feel the spasms in my body, the way I start to tip closer to coming and they pull away.

I don’t know how long that goes on before I start begging again. “I changed my mind,” I whimper. “This is torture. I didn’t know it would be like this. Please, I can’t⁠—”

Tate chuckles, blowing on my nipple and making me shiver. “That’s the point of edging, pretty girl,” he says. “It doesn’t count if you’re not a writhing, desperate mess. You can come when we’re done having fun with you.”

I glare at them all, but there’s not much heat in it. There’s still a part of me that loves this, that loves that they can do this to me so easily, even though it’s driving me out of my mind.