A sharp cry tears out of me, caught and muffled by his mouth as he does it again, slower this time, deliberate, like he’s learning exactly how to undo me.
Heat spikes through me, fast and overwhelming.
Then—
Another touch.
Softer. Slower. More cautious, but every bit as intense.
Lips brush along my jaw, almost reverent. Talon. I feel him there without looking, his quiet intensity pressing in, restraint barely holding. His breath ghosts over my skin as he murmurs something low, almost like a prayer, his hand sliding up over my shirt, his fingers finding my nipple, closing gently around it.
The sensation hits too sharp, too sudden, and I jerk, a small protest slipping out before I can stop it.
“Easy,” Luke murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at me. His thumb drags across my lower lip where his mouth just was. “Just focus on us, okay? We’ve got you. You’re safe. We’ll make you feel so good, babe.”
Us.
The word lands deep, sending another wave of heat through me.
I nod, even though everything inside me is already spinning. I feel too much—too fast—too many sensations colliding at once.
And yet I don’t want any of it to slow down.
The taboo of it.
The fact that it’s them.
All three of them.
Men I shouldn’t want like this. Men I definitely shouldn’t be here with like this.
And still—I want it more.
“You can tell us to stop anytime,” Reid says behind me, his voice lower now, steadier, but threaded tight with tension. His hand returns to the waistband of my pants, pausing there, waiting. “Do you understand, Sierra?”
I nod again, breathless.
I understand.
I just don’t care.
There’s no version of this where I stop. Not now. Not when everything inside me feels like it’s waking up all at once.
Not when I’ve never felt anything like this before.
Reid’s hand slips inside my panties.
His fingers find me immediately.
“Oh my God,” I rasp, breaking away from Luke just long enough to drag in air that doesn’t seem to reach my lungs.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Reid groans near my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You’re already this turned on for us, aren’t you?”
I can’t answer.
Not because I don’t want to—because I physically can’t.
My thoughts scatter the second his fingers press against my clit, the pressure precise, devastating.