Chapter 29 Nash
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
NASH
The room around us was built for indulgence. I know, because I designed it. I didn’t know it then, but I was building it for a woman like Reva—or someone just like her.
She’s exactly where I need her.
Bracketed between the two men I trust more than anyone else in the world, her pulse flutters visibly at her throat, her mouth swollen from Shiloh and Ever’s kisses, her body still humming from the edge they walked her to and left her on.
She’s flushed, trembling, trying to drag herself back under control while the three of us watch her fail.
Good. Let her feel every second of our torment.
Let her stand there with all that want trapped inside her, nowhere to go, no relief in sight.
Ever stays behind her, one arm banded around her middle, broad and immovable. Shiloh lingers at her side, his mouth tipped in that mean little smile that says he enjoyed bringing her right to the brink and abandoning her there. He’d do it again, too. Happily.
She left.
That fact is still a live wire under my skin, hotter than anger and meaner than fear. She slipped out in the dark and walked herself into a room full of men who would have looked at her and seen prey dressed in silk and defiance.
We noticed.
I don’t think there’s a single damn thing I’ll ever miss when it comes to her.
“You left.”
She knows exactly what I mean. It’s not so much the act itself as it was the insult. The risk. The fact that she made me imagine a world where she let herself get hurt.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” she says, voice thin with bravado and breathlessness.
Shiloh laughs quietly. Ever’s arm tightens around her.
I step closer and put my hand around her throat. Just there, over her warm skin and jumping pulse.
Her breath catches instantly. Her eyes flash to mine, and behind the attitude I see everything she doesn’t want me to.
Her nipples are hard and flushed with arousal beneath that dress.
Her thighs shift once, instinctive and helpless, friction seeking friction.
Her lips part around a smaller breath this time.
I notice everything.
“You walked into a room full of predators,” I say, thumb brushing once over the side of her neck. “Did you think they’d look at you and not want?”
Her throat works under my hand. She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to.
I know. She either didn’t think that far ahead, or she did and came anyway. Too busy chasing revenge to weigh the cost. Too stubborn to understand that losing her is not a price I will ever pay.
I slide my hand up and tip her chin back.
“This isn’t a game, little wolf.”
While I hold her gaze, Shiloh’s hand glides down her bare arm, over her waist, and lower—fingertips skimming the curve of her hip before finding the tender skin high on her thigh and stroking once, slow enough to make her shiver.
Ever lowers his mouth to the side of her neck and bites lightly, then soothes the sting with his tongue.
There. Now she’s listening with her whole body.
“You don’t get to disappear,” I tell her quietly. “You don’t get to throw yourself into danger and call it independence.”
Her eyes flash. Anger first.
Then shame.
Then want, hot and unwanted and impossible for her to hide when Ever’s mouth drags over the pulse in her throat and Shiloh’s hand settles higher, just one inch from where she needs him.
“Tell him,” Shiloh murmurs against her ear, smiling when she jolts. “Tell him how good bad ideas look on you.”
“Go to hell,” she breathes.
“Likely,” he says, and lets two fingers drag up the inside of her thigh.
Her knees weaken and fall open. Ever catches all of it. I watch her composure crack and feel something dark in me bare its teeth.
“Move her.”
Ever turns her without hesitation. No roughness.
No wasted motion. He guides her backward toward the bed while Shiloh keeps touching—light kisses at her shoulder, fingertips skating over her thigh, a maddening trail of sensation that keeps her body hot and alert and aching.
By the time the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she’s breathing through her mouth.
“Sit.”
She obeys slowly, like stretching it out makes it less like obedience. I let her have that lie.
When she settles on the edge of the bed, Shiloh parts her knees with one lazy pass of his hand and steps aside for me. I kneel between them.
Her fingers knot in the coverlet.
I take the hem of her dress and push it up, inch by inch, exposing more of her thighs, more of the trembling muscle there, the slick sheen of darkness between her legs. Her legs twitch, wanting to close and not daring to.
There you are.
My mouth almost curves. I lift the dress and pull it over her head, baring her without words.
The others already did the work beautifully.
Shiloh and Ever brought her right to the edge and held her there long enough for her body to start begging on its own.
In the way her cunt clenches around nothing every time my knuckles brush her thigh.
In the way her hips tip forward before she catches herself.
I run my thumb once along her inner thigh.
Then again, higher. Not where she wants it. Not yet.
“Do you understand what this is?”
Her lips part. Her chest rises. No answer.
Behind her, Ever climbs onto the bed and settles close at her back, one knee on either side of her hips, one broad hand flattening over her waist to steady her when another tremor runs through her. He doesn’t crowd her more than necessary. He just keeps her held exactly where we want her.
Safe.
Pinned.
Open.
Shiloh leans against the bedpost, watching her with open hunger now, all the humor in him gone sharp and dark.
Reva swallows. “I can take care of myself.”
I nod. “You can.”
My hand slides higher.
Her inhale breaks clean in half.
“And yet,” I say, “here we are.”
This time when my thumb brushes over her seam, it’s deliberate. Slow. A firm press against her clit. She jerks and a sound slips out of her before she can stop it.
I do it again. A long drag this time, just enough pressure to make her body reach for more.
“You feel that?” I ask, watching her, spreading her wider.
She doesn’t answer. Her eyes are bright and furious and too wrecked to lie properly. Her breath shudders out.
Now there’s no pretending. She is open for me, for us, slick glistening between her folds, her clit swollen and begging, the evidence of her arousal shining under the low light. Not imagined. Not assumed. Earned.
My finger slides through her once, collecting wetness.
“Fuck,” Shiloh mutters, appreciation rough in his voice.
Ever’s mouth finds the spot just below her ear. “That’s our girl.”
A violent flush climbs her throat.
“Tonight,” I tell her, circling one fingertip around her clit without touching it directly, “you don’t get distance. You don’t get to disappear inside that beautiful head of yours and pretend none of this matters.”
Her hips lift, chasing contact. I move away. A curse falls from her mouth.
Shiloh smiles. Ever’s hand tightens at her waist.
“You stay right here,” I continue, “with all three of us. And you feel it.”
I flatten my tongue against the inside of her thigh instead of where she wants me. Kiss my way up, stop short, then breathe over her cunt until she trembles hard enough that Ever has to brace her more firmly against his chest.
“Nash,” she says, and it’s not a warning. It’s a plea she hates.
I look up at her through my lashes. “Yes?”
Her mouth opens. Shuts. Nothing.
I smile faintly and drag one knuckle through her slick again, watching her fall apart from that alone.
“You don’t get to leave us again.”
Next to me, I hear Shiloh exhale through a grin. Hear Ever shift and settle closer at her back, his lips at her shoulder, his body a wall of heat and steadiness. Reva’s pulse is frantic now. Her thighs are shaking. Every inch of her is waiting for me to stop talking and give her something real.
I could.
Instead I hold her there, right on the line, and say, “If you don’t want this, say it now.”
“No.”
Immediate. Breathless. Real.
That one word changes everything.
The silence after is brief but final. It settles over all four of us and becomes permission, choice, inevitability all at once.
I hold her gaze one more second, then bite the soft inside of her thigh. She gasps and her hips jerk.
I stand.
“You’ve had all three of us,” I say, watching her try and fail to think through the heat. “Who do you want?”
Her eyes go wide and move between us.
This is more than sex. More than this room. More than the bed, the ache in her body, the way her breath keeps catching every time one of us touches her. We all feel the shift when it happens—when awareness flares in the golden depths of her eyes and she understands exactly what I’m asking.
Not who first.
Not who more.
Who does she choose when choosing means consequence?
She wets her lips.
“I won’t choose between you.”
Something violent and possessive rolls through me so hard it nearly strips the air from my lungs.
Good. Because I would have hated her for trying, and then I would have hated myself.
“Then you get all of us,” I say, my voice low and final, “because none of us are backing away from you. Do you understand what that means?”
She nods once, brief and solemn, and for the first time tonight there is no sass in her. No bravado. Just truth.
“I understand.”
I hold her gaze for a second longer, making sure she means it, making sure she knows this is the point where things become real in a way they have not been before.
Then I look at Shiloh. This began with him.
He steps between her knees immediately, one hand sliding up her thigh while Ever’s mouth finds the side of her neck. Reva shudders hard, pinned between them, and I stay right where I am and watch every fresh crack in her control.
Shiloh leans in and kisses her. Long. Soft.