Page 35 of Isla

"How does it work exactly?" I ask, the darkness making me brave.

"How does what work?"

"Sharing a woman. Do you take turns?" I hold my breath while I wait for his answer.

"That depends on the woman and what she wants."

"Oh." I was hoping for more detail.

"What doyouwant, Isla?"

“What are my options?" I stare at the ceiling, my heart beating like a base drum.

"You could schedule us in. Each of us gets a different night."

"That sounds awful." I think I hear him sigh with relief, but I can’t be sure.

"The other option is we share a bed."

"But how does it work, exactly? The three of you are brothers, which is vastly different from the relationship Charlie and the guys share."

"It just means that all of our attention is focused on you all of the time."

The idea of six hands and three tongues focused on me has delicious heat suffusing my body, settling between my legs.

"What goes where?" I croak, sliding my hand over my breast and squeezing, desperate to relieve the ache. "I'm not a prude, but I've never..." I trail off, not sure how to say what I mean.

"Fucked three guys at once?" Dylan finishes, his voice husky, the rasp tugging the thread of desire tethering us together.

"Yes, that," I whisper.

"It depends..."

"On what?"

"God, Isla, you're going to be the death of me."

I hear his zipper, and the butterflies in my stomach go wild. I force myself to stay still instead of crawling to the end of the bed to see what he's doing. Instead, I slide my hand down over my stomach, running my fingers lightly along my slit over my underwear.

Dylan clears his throat. "It depends on if you like to be fucked in the ass," he says, his voice strangled.

"That's still only two holes." I bite back a whimper as I press my fingers on either side of clit, rocking my hips.

"One of them stretches, Isla."

I push my underwear aside, sinking two fingers inside me, wondering how it would feel to be filled like that. For all three of them to be using my body to find release. I squeeze my eyes closed, too turned on to care about the moan that slips from my lips or the creak of the bedframe as I dig my heels into the mattress.

"Isla." Dylan whispers my name, his voice breaking. I open my eyes to see his shadow standing at the end of the bed.

"Dylan!" I shriek, pulling my hand away and clamping my legs closed. My gaze drops to the movement of his arm. I reach over and turn on the lamp, feeling like I may die if I can't see all of him. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him slide his hand up and down his cock, pre-cum glistening at the tip, begging for me to taste it. His gaze pins me in place, forcing me to make a choice. Shut this down or see it out. I hold our eye contact as I pull off my panties,barely able to breathe. I prop myself up against the headboard, my legs glued shut.

"Open them, Isla. Show me what you like."

Oh god. Is this really happening? I watch his hand twisting over his cock, his thumb sweeping over the head, then dragging down to pulse where the shaft and head meet. My knees fall open.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he groans, the muscles in his abdomen clenching. "Show me how you touch yourself."

My breath shudders out of me as I slide my fingertip down my slit, then back up, circling my clit. I push two fingers inside, feathering them over my G-spot, my vision going fuzzy.

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