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“I enjoy suspense.”

“You enjoy hearing yourself talk.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Rhys grips the back of Dante’s neck and pushes him toward me.

“Give her what she asked for.”

I open Dante’s jeans. His cock springs free, hard and already leaking. I wrap one hand around him. His grin disappears.

“Fuck.”

“Language,” Rhys says.

Dante’s eyes narrow.

“You created a monster.”

Rhys looks at me.

“She arrived that way.”

I stroke Dante slowly. Callum climbs onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight. I reach for him with my other hand. He catches my wrist.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“How?”

The question makes me smile. They taught me to answer. I taught them to ask.

“I want Dante in my mouth.”

Dante groans.

“Callum, I want you behind me.”

His gaze darkens.

“And Rhys?”

The Reaper’s attention never leaves my face.

“I want Rhys inside me.”

Silence. Heavy. Hungry. Rhys touches my thigh.

“You came once.”

“I can count.”

“You were sensitive.”

“I recovered.”

“Pain?”