Page 79 of Savage Surrender

“Give her to me before she melts through the chair.”

Weller looks up at him. “Careful with her.”

“I am always careful with her.”

Weller shifts one supporting arm beneath my ribs. “You have a creative definition of always.”

Tristan laughs and reaches down. He slides one arm beneath my shoulders and the other under my knees while Weller supports my waist. Together they lift me from Weller’s thighs, and Tristan turns me in his arms until he’s holding me bridal style.

My head falls over the crook of his elbow. One arm dangles until he catches my wrist and folds it across my stomach; the other is trapped uselessly between us. Like my bones are soft. Tristan carries the warm, whimpering remains of me toward the mattress, cock hard beneath my hip and mouth close to my ear.

“Completely useless,” he murmurs.

“M’not.”

“Adorable. I admire the effort.”

He lowers me onto my back so slowly I feel every inch of my weight leave his arms. My sore ass meets the blankets and pulls a hiss between my teeth. Tristan keeps one hand beneath my hip until the sting settles, then lets my leg fall open where it wants. The other follows.

The blankets are already starting to smell like us. Owen climbs onto the mattress near my feet and rubs one broad palm up my calf. Freddie brings water, supports my head, and holds the glass while I take several clumsy swallows.

Weller kneels beside the bed.

“Look at me.” Weller waits until I manage it. “Any dizziness? Any pain you don’t want?”

“No. Everything hurts exactly the right amount.”

His hand settles over mine. “Do you want to stop for the night?”

That question gets my eyes open. “No.”

Tristan sprawls beside me, props himself on one elbow, and runs a fingertip around the tender edge of my ass.

“How do you feel?”

I search through the pleasant static in my head. “Happy.”

Weller closes his hand around mine and bows his head over our joined fingers until his lips touch my knuckles.

Tristan’s finger dips lower, stopping just before where I want him.

I shift my hips. “I need more.”

His eyes move to Freddie, who is still kneeling beside my head, one hand around the water glass and the other stroking damp hair away from my mouth.

“You heard her.” His hand closes around the back of Freddie’s neck and guides him toward me. “Take care of our needy girl.”

His shorts hang low on his hips, his cock tenting the front so hard it has to hurt. The way he looks at me is worse. Like he’s afraid wanting too much might frighten me.

“Come here.” My voice is barely audible, but it gets him the last step.

He bends over me, one hand braced beside my head. His mouth finds mine softly. Too softly. I catch his lower lip and pull until the sweetness breaks, and the sound he makes pulls my hips up off the blankets.

“Baby.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, then my cheek, as if he can’t settle on one place. “Tell me if you’re sore.”

“I’m sore.”

Freddie freezes and Tristan laughs under his breath behind him. “But she didn’t say stop.”