“Was it true?” Cyrus asks from behind me, his chest pressing against my back.
I hesitate. Lying seems pointless when they can read me so easily. “Yes.”
“Then don’t apologize,” Ace says firmly. “We don’t want your shame. We want your honesty.”
“Even when it’s fucked up?”
“Especially then,” Cyrus whispers, his breath hot on my neck. “You think you’re the only one with fucked up thoughts? Little dancer, we’ve made a career out of darkness.”
Ace’s thumb traces my bottom lip. “Your fantasy doesn’t scare us because it’s taboo. It scares us because...”
He doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to. The truth hangs in the air between us—acknowledged but not spoken. Some things are too dangerous to voice, even in the dark.
“Let’s just focus on what we have,” Cyrus suggests, his hand splaying possessively across my stomach. “The three of us. That’s complicated enough.”
I nod, accepting the redirect, but I catch the look that passes between the brothers over my head. Brief. Charged. Questioning.
Whatever I awakened in them, it’s not going back to sleep.
Before I can dwell further on what’s being left unsaid between us, Cyrus shifts. The mattress dips as he moves, and suddenly the covers lift, and he’s sliding down my body. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them apart.
“Maybe we should stop talking altogether,” he suggests, voice rough with desire. His stubble scrapes deliciously against my inner thigh as he positions himself between my legs.
Ace watches with heated eyes before turning his attention back to me. “Good idea, brother.”
His mouth captures mine as Cyrus’s lips make contact with my core. God, they’re so coordinated it’s terrifying. Like they’ve practiced this a thousand times, perfected the art of destroying a woman so thoroughly.
Ace’s fingers tangle in my hair, holding me exactly where he wants me while he deepens the kiss. I feel my thoughts scatter like startled birds, unable to hold onto anything but sensation. The subject we were discussing—their complex relationship, my intrusive fantasy—evaporates into nothing.
One flick of Cyrus’s tongue against my clit and I can’t even remember my own name.
“That’s it,” Ace murmurs against my lips, watching my expression as Cyrus works his magic. “Let go for us.”
Cyrus moans between my legs, the vibration shooting straight through me. His fingers dig into my thighs, leaving marks I know will be there tomorrow. My hips rock against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he offers so skillfully.
The conversation is effectively buried now, replaced by gasps and whimpers I can’t control. Whatever they’re avoiding by doing this, it’s working. My mind can’t focus on anything but the hot slide of tongues—Ace’s in my mouth, Cyrus’s between my legs.
My body trembles under their dual assault, rational thought dissolving with each expert stroke of their tongues. Cyrus works me into a frenzy, his mouth relentless against my center while Ace swallows my moans with demanding kisses. Just when I’m teetering on the edge, Cyrus pulls back, his lips glistening.
“I need more,” he growls, sliding up my body. His eyes lock with Ace’s across my heaving chest. “I need us to fuck her ass together.”
My breath catches in my throat.
Ace’s expression darkens with desire, pupils blown wide as he nods. “Yes. I want to feel you while we’re both inside her.”
“What?” I prop myself up on my elbows, looking between them. “That’s insane. I can’t take both of you in my ass at the same time.”
Cyrus traces circles on my hip, his touch deceptively gentle compared to the intensity in his gaze. “You can. We’ll make it work.”
I shake my head, remembering how stretched and full I feel when just one of them takes me that way and the other in mypussy. “It feels so full when one of you fucks my ass, let alone both. There’s no way.”
“There’s always a way,” Ace counters, his clinical precision returning as he reaches for the drawer beside the bed. “With enough preparation and the right position.”
Cyrus leans down and whispers. “Think how tight it’ll be. Your little hole is going to be gripping both our cocks while they’re pressed together inside you.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his words—fear mingled with forbidden excitement. The image he paints is both terrifying and arousing.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, caught between desire and self-preservation.