Page 181 of The Next Lie

She drags in air.

“Good.”

Shiloh stills when he is fully inside, his jaw tight, one hand braced at her waist.

Reva is shaking between us.

“Too much?” I ask.

Her eyes snap to mine. “Oh, no.”

Strong answer. Perfect answer. I kiss her.

Then I begin to move.

Slowly at first, lifting her hips as Shiloh holds steady behind her. She breaks against my mouth, a moan turning into a curse. Shiloh follows, finding the counter-rhythm, and the three of us become breath, skin, pressure, and the sounds Reva cannot swallow.

She is everywhere.

On my lap. Around me. Between us. Hands on my shoulders, mouth against mine, back arching when Shiloh’s hand slides up to her throat and holds lightly.

I do not think about the invitation.

I do not think about Isabel Rosario.

I do not think about ballroom exits, signal loss, or how many men I can kill before Nash gets her clear.

I think about Reva alive and shaking, taking pleasure from both of us because she chose it.

Because she asked. Because she trusted us to give her more without taking too much.

My anxiety does not disappear. It narrows into a single command.

Keep her with us.

Shiloh’s voice roughens at her ear. “Look at him.”

Her eyes find mine. Her pupils are blown wide. Her mouth is swollen. Tears gather along her lashes, but not the wrong kind. Her body clenches around me hard enough that I nearly lose the rhythm.

“She’s close,” Shiloh says.

“I know.”

“I’m right here,” she snaps, breathless.

“Then come,” I tell her.

She shakes her head, stubborn even now. I slide my hand between us, find her clit, and press exactly where she needs it.

Her body breaks.

The orgasm hits her hard enough that she nearly folds forward. I catch her with one arm around her back while Shiloh holds her hips, both of us keeping her between us as she shakes through it. Her body pulses around me, around him, dragging a groan out of Shiloh and something harsher out of me.

I last three more thrusts.

Then I bury myself deep and come with my forehead against her throat, hands locked at her hips. Shiloh follows a second later, his breath breaking against the back of her neck, fingers flexing at her waist.

For a while, none of us moves.