Tomorrow, by this time, we’ll be knee-deep in blood and bodies, luring Roman’s men out and picking them off one by one, and I need to pull myself the fuck together.
Max and Ryker walk into the room, both shirtless, damp with sweat, and they look just as fucked up as I feel. Max drops onto the other couch. Ryker sprawls beside him, legs open, chest still heaving.
“Shit,” Ryker mutters. “That was…”
“Intense,” Max finishes.
I glance down; they’re still hard, and so am I.
No one says it out loud, but the roomacheswith unfinished business.
Dante’s on his feet, wiping sweat off his face with a damp cloth, when he stops cold. “Fuck,” he mutters.
Aspen steps into the room, water still clinging to her skin, steam rising from her like a ghost of the bath she left behind. She’s completely bare, dripping, glistening, her hair slicked back, cheeks flushed, and not a single ounce of shyness in the way she stands.
Droplets trace over the curve of her breasts, slide down her stomach, then disappear between her thighs. She’s a vision, wild and soft, all at once, and fuck, she knows exactly what she’s doing.
My jaw tightens, throat thickens, and for a second, no one moves. Not a breath, not a blink. Just the sound of water hitting the floor and hearts beating like war drums.
We watch her.
Still. Silent. Barely holding on.
She wouldn’t—
Right?
Her eyes scan the room, lips curling into a smirk that does nothing to soothe my pulse. Then she walks toward Max, hips swaying.
She kicks his legs apart.
And he fucking obeys.
She drops between them, kneels, unzips his jeans with slow, teasing fingers.
“Fuck, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Max grits out, his hands clenching the couch cushions.
She doesn’t answer.
She just pulls his cock free, already thick and hard, and straddles him in one smooth motion.
“Fuuuuccckk,” Max groans as her heat swallows him whole. His hands snap to her hips, holding her still.
Aspen shivers.
Then she starts rolling her hips, slow, taunting; she’s savoring the stretch.
Max chokes on a breath, grinding up into her. “Aren’t you sore, sweetheart?” he pants.
She moans.
“No… I need more.”
God-fucking-damn.
My cock throbs against my jeans, screaming for release. Fucking brat.She knows exactly what she’s doing. And I’m seconds from grabbing her off Max and reminding her who she’s still begging for.
She turns her head to Ryker.
