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“Callum behind me.”

The Scarecrow inhales sharply.

“And Dante?”

I step closer.

Sloane reaches for my belt.

“He’s keeping my mouth busy.”

No one laughs this time.

CALLUM

I wanted Sloane first. That does not entitle me to be the only man she wants. Understanding that does nothing to silence the violence inside me when Rhys rolls protection over himself and steps between her thighs. Sloane senses it. She looks over her shoulder while Dante removes the remainder of his clothing.

“You can still watch.”

“No.”

My answer is immediate.

“If you can’t share⁠—”

“I can.”

I pour lubricant into my palm.

“I don’t want to.”

Her eyes darken.

“But I will.”

She reaches backward and touches my mask.

“For me?”

“Only for you.”

Rhys lifts her onto the altar. Dante positions himself near her mouth without touching her. I stand behind her. Sloane lies between us, candlelight painting gold across every curve. Rhys bends over her.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Do you want Callum to prepare you?”

“Yes.”

Dante strokes his thumb across her lower lip.

“Do you want me here?”

She opens her mouth and takes his thumb inside. His body tightens.

“Yes.”