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The world narrows, then rushes back.

When I finally become aware of myself again, I'm laughing and crying at the same time against Ashby's neck. Torin is still there, his fingers stroking my soaking slit with a tenderness that feels almost worshipful after everything that came before.

“Fuck me,” I murmur. The words scrape out of me, wrecked and sincere. “I want you all.”

Torin withdraws with surprising care, the shift is almost startling after everything that came before. He licks his fingers with obscene thoroughness, never looking away from me. Intent radiates from him. He looks like a predator taking his time with a favorite meal, completely certain there's no reason to rush.

His hand slides to the back of my neck. The touch begins soft, then firms until my scalp tingles. I think he's about to kiss me again, but instead he tugs gently on my hair and forces my attention toward Briggs and Ashby.

Both men are watching.

Briggs is flushed all the way to his ears. Sweat has begun to gather at his hairline, and the expression on his face mixes awe with the competitive spark he's never bothered to hide.

Ashby appears slightly more composed. His hands plant on my waist and arms, as though he's supporting a structural beam, holding on much harder than he'd ever admit.

Torin keeps his grip on my hair while I reach for Briggs. The instant my hand touches his face, he surges forward. We collide in a hungry, devouring kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth carrying the taste of my own juices, sending a shudder of excitement running through me. The aftershocks are still rolling through my body, feeding the next.

I could ride him right here.

I could unbuckle his jeans, climb into his lap, and let the other two watch exactly how unhinged I can become.

Ashby has other plans.

His hands tighten just enough to keep me exactly where he wants me. He holds me with the certainty of a man who believes he alone knows where this begins and where it ends.

“Easy,” he murmurs. His palm slides along my inner knee, pressing it wider with three fingers before the rest of his hand follows, cupping my thigh. His thumb strokes just above the aching slickness between my legs. Briggs has abandoned my mouth in favor of my throat, his tongue working over the pulse he's already made throb harder.

Meanwhile, Ashby's hand drifts lower. He gathers the evidence Torin left behind and coats his fingertips before lifting them where I can see.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Briggs growls by my ear, rocking his hips upward, dragging the hard ridge of denim against the wet, slick heat between my thighs, every movement calculated to drive me insane.

Torin clearly decides patience has run its course.

His hands move to the buttons of my blouse. One button after another pops open beneath decisive fingers, the material is laid back, exposing my chest, and my breasts confined within the lacy outline of my bra.

His mouth quirks with satisfaction when he sees my nipples straining visibly against the lace. Immediately, he lowers his mouth to one and sucks hard enough through the flimsy material to leave a mark.

The sharp combination of pleasure and pain pulls a squeal from my throat. My head falls back, and my spine arches like an invite for more.

“She likes that,” Briggs murmurs, the tip of one large finger lightly teasing my clit.

The sounds spilling out of me dissolve into fragments. “Oh fuck, oh yes, oh…”

“Mmm, she does,” Torin says thickly, moving his mouth to my other nipple, sucking hard enough to make me cry out.

Ashby hands slide my blouse down my arms and off, but I don’t know who's responsible for removing my bra. One instant it's there, and the next it's gone, and my naked breasts are tumbling free, eager for hot, greedy mouths to feast on.

Briggs gets there first.

His mouth closes around my nipple. The scrape of teeth makes me jerk so hard, Ashby's arms are the only reason I'm still upright.

Fresh heat floods through me as Brigg’s cups one breast, kneading it, his mouth toying mercilessly with the nipple, the scrape of his stubble and each sucking bite making it harder, more sensitive.

Making me want to scream.

Then Torin hand claims my left breast, squeezing, massaging the tender flesh before drawing the aching tip into his mouth.