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Then Briggs leans forward, slides his palms beneath my ass cheeks and spreads me wider, opening me for Ashby. Ashby thrusts himself deep inside me, letting out a groan as he sinks into me. He sets up a slow, deliberate rhythm of deep, penetrating strokes that shakes the table, filling me to the hilt every time.

The sensation tears a raw cry from me.

Torin's cock slides deeper into my throat at the same instant my body stretches around Ashby. I suck harder, caught between his invasion and my own greed.

Ashby lets out a muffled moan that vibrates through him, and I feel the response travel the length of his body.

He's close.

I can see it in the way he looks at me.

Need has stripped away everything else, leaving him glassy-eyed and raw with it.

Briggs isn't faring much better.

He watches Ashby take me and feels every bit of it. His mouth finds my breasts, trailing hot kisses and bites over soft flesh. His hand follows, kneading, tweaking my nipples until they stand out so hard, it almost hurts.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he whispers.

The only reply I can manage is a helpless moan as Ashby and Torin push deeper into me, demanding more.

Every sensation overlaps until separating one from another feels impossible.

Torin trembling above me, Ashby driving me steadily toward the edge, Briggs holding me together while he watches me fall apart.

Pleasure is building and building until I can barely remember where any of us starts or ends.

Torin comes first.

The shudder that tears through him nearly folds him in half. His hands stay locked in my hair while a deep groan tears from his throat. The heat hits the back of my tongue, and I swallow automatically, driven by instinct and greed for everything he gives me. I keep going as he spasms, gentler now, and the way his muscles flutter beneath my hands feels unexpectedly tender after all that intensity.

A soft gasp escapes him as he lets go.

Then he collapses forward until his forehead rests against mine. His breath washes over my skin, hot and damp, and the words catch on the edge of a laugh.

“Holy fuck, you…”

The sentence never reaches its end. He buries his face in my hair instead, whatever else he meant to say swallowed by the rush still racing through both of us.

The instant my body tightens around Ashby, he loses whatever control he had left.

A guttural, helpless moan rips out of him. His hands lock around my parted thighs with enough force to make me wonder if our bones might actually fuse together. I feel the heat of him, the desperate jerking of his body as he empties himself inside me. Each pulse feels like its own declaration, carrying a stunned gratitude that catches me completely off guard.

The sound he makes is almost disbelieving.

As though the force of it has blindsided him.

He clings to me, thrusting once, then again, grinding hard enough that the edge of the desk bites into my thigh. The sensation tears my own orgasm loose. It crashes through me fiercely, lighting up every nerve ending at once. My body bucks and arches as wave after wave of intense pleasure rolls through me… until everything else disappears

I get no chance to recover.

The next moment, Ashby is replaced by Briggs. The table edge presses cold against my butt while heat clings to every other inch of me as he looms above me, lifting my legs, opening me wider still.

Any remaining mask has vanished from his expression. A calm, purposeful, predatory hunger burns in his dark eyes that makes him seem all the more dangerous. And all the more desirable.

He lines himself up and pushes inside.

The sensation hits hard enough to wrench a yelp from me. My head knocks against the table, but the impact barely registers beside the overwhelming fullness of him. The stretch leaves me dizzy. Every inch of me feels claimed by it.