I wrench my lips away from Zaid’s just long enough to exclaim, “I died, you know. And if that doesn’t deserve a sexy five-way, then I don’t know what does. Dying is actually quite painful. Zero out of ten, wouldn’t recommend. Seriously, fuck death. And fuck Aphrodite while we’re at it too. So yeah. Dying. It sucks. I think I deserve?—”
Everett cuts off my rant with another possessive kiss, one I feel from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. His mouth moves over mine fiercely, angrily, the scruff on his face providing a delicious amount of friction.
When he pulls away, his eyes burn with an indecipherable emotion—an emotion that looks a lot like anger.
“Don’t fucking talk about that,” he rasps out, his large chest heaving.
“Talk about what?” I furrow my brows. “Dying?”
All four of my men flinch.
“Yeah…maybe we can discuss this in a few hundred years. Or maybe never,” Krystian says with a one-shoulder shrug.
He distractedly runs a hand through his dark-blond locks.
“That was the worst moment of my life, Thea,” Rafe whispers. His dark, penetrating gaze homes in on my face. “I can’t even think about it without…”
He clenches his jaw and balls his hands into fists.
“We lost you.” Zaid grabs my hands and holds them in his. “Not once, but twice. I’m not sure how any of us can survive that.”
A huge boulder drops in my stomach. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. Pinkie promise.”
Everett snorts, some of the pain I saw before dissipating from his eyes. “Pinkie promise? You’re weird.”
“Not weird enough to keep you away,” I quip.
“Never.”
Then we’re kissing again. Honestly, I’m not sure who reaches for whom. All I know is I find myself pulling away from the others to straddle his lap, my fingers buried in his sandy-colored hair.
He pulls away to press his forehead against mine. “I lost you, Thea.”
“I know. We talked about this?—”
“No,” he interrupts, a tiny bit of a growl seeping into his tone. “I. Lost. You. You were with me, under my protection, when you were taken by Aphrodite just now.”
I’m stunned to see a misting of tears in his normally combative hazel eyes.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” His voice breaks. “So sorry.”
My heart aches for him, for the pain and guilt he feels. I want to tell him that it’s not his fault at all. That he couldn’t have prevented what happened. That everything worked out in the end.
But I know my words will provide little comfort right now. Instead, I need to show him that I’m not mad—and that there’s no reason for him to apologize.
I slowly move off his lap and drop to my knees before him, staring at him through heavily lidded eyes.
“What are you doing, baby?” He arches an eyebrow, though molten heat enters his gaze.
I drag my nails up and down his thighs. “If it’s not blatantly obvious, then I need to rethink my life choices.”
“And what life choices are those?” Krystian asks, amused.
“Being a slut for the four of you,” I answer honestly, and all of them groan.
I reach for the button of Everett’s jeans and pop it open, then take my sweet damn time sliding the denim down his toned legs. His cock strains against his boxer briefs, the tip visible at the top. It presses against his stomach.
“Thea, you don’t have to. For fuck’s sake, you just died?—”
