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“Not so much,” she said wryly. “The last of my nerves left when you came in Matt’s mouth. After that it’s been all downhill. Or uphill.”

Again he laughed. “I was thinking maybe you should watch us first. So you’re not so scared.”

She shivered, and it wasn’t from fear. Finally.

“But gotta say, I’m getting hungry too. Hungry for food and for you.” Matt wiggled his eyebrows as he gazed down at her. “We’ll eat our picnic off your breasts.” He skated his fingers over her hypersensitive clit, and she

moaned, right on cue. “Drink our wine from your cunt.”

Yet another word that made her breath catch a little. She wasn’t used to them speaking this frankly to her, at least when they weren’t making jokes. But she’d get used to it.

“There’s wine?” she asked.

Matt smacked her mound, and she laughed, arching at the flash of heat. Maybe he thought the best part of tonight was listening to her moans, but he was wrong.

The best part was loving these two men and knowing they loved her absolutely in return. Being naked with them was just one more layer of icing on an already incredible cake.

“I want to watch you,” she said after a moment, not bothering to disguise the plea in her voice. She wanted them to get just how much she was into them being into each other. As long as she was a part of it, she was happy.

But what about when Monday came? Then what? They would go back to being lovers and she would go back to being alone.

She hunched, suddenly cold. Since when had that word become so frightening?

Since you realized what it was like to be completely with someone else. Two someones.

What about that perfect little picture of domesticity she’d always held in her head for someday down the line? Would two husbands really be better than one?

Saying yes would be so easy. Too easy. Saying no would hurt them all, but she couldn’t pretend to be relaxed about a situation very few people would understand—or condone.

But does anyone else’s opinion really matter more than yours? And theirs?

Matt stared into her eyes, and for a second, she was sure he was reading her thoughts. He’d always been good at that. “Think it’s time we untie you. You won’t just be watching. You’ll be participating.”

She closed her eyes. Now that the doubt demons had resurfaced, she was having trouble battling them back. “We never talked about beyond this weekend,” she said quietly.

“We didn’t have to. You’re ours.” Tristan’s certain tone told her there would be no discussion. “And if you’re not, you never should have given yourself to us. Because we’re not sharing you.”

“It’s not about another guy. It’s about this being—”

“What?” Tristan asked sharply.

She’d almost said not normal. Luckily she’d stopped herself just in time. They couldn’t truly believe she’d consider this a genuine possibility. Some people lived that way, and great for them, but she was more traditional.

Wasn’t she?

“Fun.” She lifted a shoulder and winced at the resulting burn in her wrists. “A game. But it’s not life. It’s not real.”

She winced again as she heard herself. Dear God, what was she saying? Orgasm deprivation had robbed her of the last of her mental faculties. Because only a crazy person would say those kinds of things to two horny, naked guys only too willing to make her submit to whatever they wanted.

As they aptly proved a moment later.

“Untie her. And get her in the bedroom.”

“Tristan—”

He walked over to her, jerking up her face so hard her shoulders snapped back. “Exactly how far do you want to push us?”

Chapter 6


Tags: Taryn Quinn Erotic