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I turn toward Maison to look at him. His cute, lopsided grin is back, and I love it. It’s the Maison I’m used to. He reaches up and kisses me, and instead of sliding me on top of him like I expect, he shifts and joins his brother behind me. “We’re just getting started, baby,” he whispers. “We can go all night.”

One of them grips my hips and enters me from behind for round three. His cock slides right into my g-spot, making me moan before taking my body into complete euphoria. I have no idea which twin it is, nor do I care in the slightest.

Cool air sneaks around me and goosebumps rise on my arm, jolting me awake. The first signs of morning trickle into the shelter, and I know the fire still has hot embers as smoke seeps into my nose. I’m dressed in the clothes I threw on before passing out from utter exhaustion in between both of them.

I swallow hard, remembering what I did last night. I’m too comfortable to care, as one of them is curled up behind me, with his arm draped over my waist. The other is missing. I am not yet prepared to face the day, so I relish in the moment while the effects of the alcohol from last night take over.

I suspect it’s Maison holding me; Micah probably got out of here as soon as the light hit the sky. He will need to tend to our deer, and I doubt he wants to watch Maison and me during our morning cuddle routine.

They fucked me in five different positions, each taking me multiple times before my body just couldn’t take it anymore. Eventually, I lost track of who was who. Before last night, I didn’t know what an orgasm was, or that it was possible to feel so good. I still feel the aftershocks of pleasure between my legs.

When I was aware of who was inside me, Maison did a good job comforting me, assuring me what I was doing was okay, and making me feel safe. With Micah, I was never sure what I was going to get, but he was softer as the night went on, and I’m pretty sure he kissed every inch of my body. I’ve never felt so safe or taken care of. And I know I can’t let it happen again—I can’t be physical with both of them—my heart and body can’t handle it.

And my heart is with Maison—he’s better for me.

I open my eyes and face him. He’s already awake, staring at me. His beautiful chestnut eyes watching me sleep. I bite my lip and a smile forms on his lips. My stomach tightens and I go wholly still when I realize I can’t tell them apart. I assumed it was Maison by the way he is holding me, but that’s not Maison’s smile. Who am I looking at? Why can’t I tell them apart?

I reach my arm up and drag it along his shoulder.

No scar.

“Micah,” I whisper.

He presses his lips to mine and pulls me into him, and I jolt back at the suddenness of it. “Shh, don’t say anything,” he whispers against my lips.

My heart shutters as he cups my cheek. I lean in and lengthen the kiss, deepening it. We make out like this for a few minutes, and I let his hands explore me as he gently strokes me with his tongue. I kiss him till my lips are swollen and heat pools through me. I reach my hand up his shirt and feel his hard abs, his chiselled waist, and the dips down to the apex of his thighs. He shifts me around and slides his thumb into my waistband to slip my sweats down to my knees. I help him by kicking them off, naked once again beneath these blankets. I hesitate only for a second before his knee is nudging my thighs open.

“Open your legs, London,” he murmurs. “Please.”

I close my eyes and let him guide me, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me up, knowing Maison must be close by and could crawl in and see this.

I feel his cock enter me from behind, and even though I’m raw and sore from the night before, I’m already wet. He fucks me slow, steady and intimate, our bodies mingled together, his thumb rubbing that spot while he fills me.

He was completely different last night—rough, aggressive, and treating my body like his only release. Last night, he just fucked me. But this… this is something different.

I softly moan as he kisses my neck, moving my hair away from my face. I grind into him and arch my back, and he slides in and out of me. My breath lengthens and I savor the moment, enjoying every line of hard muscle on him, how wet and turned-on he makes me. It breaks my heart, because this has to be the last time we do this.

“You feel like fucking heaven, London,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my ear. “I wish you were mine.”

I hitch a breath, but don’t respond. My heart and everything tightens, and I grip his muscled legs so hard, my fingers turn white while he picks up the pace while nibbling on my neck and ear. He finishes faster than I thought he would, which makes sense since I’m not even sure he finished last night. He withdraws and ejaculates onto his blanket to avoid getting any on me. Part of me wishes I could look over my shoulder and watch him in this moment, but I don’t. If I did, I think that would be my undoing.

When he’s done, I pull my sweats back up and dare to look at him. His soft lustful gaze from earlier is now void of expression.

Back to the Micah I’m used to.

I blink at him, and a wave of shame pours through me. “I have to go find Maison,” I tell him.

His eyes flicker, but he nods, as if he also knows what we just did is a betrayal of sorts. “Yeah, I know,” is all he has to say about it.

I scramble to find my clothes and head outside. Once there, I see Maison about thirty feet away, peering down into the water. I walk up to him and place my hands around his athletic frame. He grabs my hands and turns me to face him.

Sadness radiates out of his eyes. He just heard everything Micah and I did. He must have left knowing that would happen—he let it happen. The little flicker he sees when his mind wanders off, and I know it’s connected to Micah and me. For whatever reason, he is allowing his twin to fuck his girlfriend, encouraging it even. The bit of shame I have grinds much deeper. Maison is my boyfriend—he’s the one I want, even with my doubts about him and his true involvement in Olivia’s death.

I step on my tippy toes and force him to look at me. “I love you, Maison,” I tell him softly and kiss him. He kisses me back, even though my lips are still swollen from making out with Micah. I mean every word, and I remember whose hands kept me warm and safe on the airplane, on this island, and every day since.

I have to remind myself which brother I’m in love with.

It’s not Micah…