Page 80 of Isla

"No, this is amazing," I breathe, shedding my clothes and stepping into the water. The temperature is perfect. I wish I could bring this home with me–I would never leave. I watch Theo undress as raindrops fall around me, water sliding down the planes of his body as he steps into the water.

"I wish I could say I planned this," he chuckles, pushing through the water.

"Maybe the gods planned this." What other explanation is there? It's too goddamned perfect.

Theo pulls me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling myself up his body so I can press my lips against his. He sits, taking my spot, his pupils blowing wide as I sink onto his lap, my throaty moan drowned out by a clap of thunder.

36

Itake Friday completely off. My entire body is still trembling from the incredible dicking down I received yesterday, plus the rest of my escapades during the week. And to be honest, my mind isn't much better. All I can think about is climbing back into bed with all three of them. If I have that much fun with one, I can only imagine what it will be like when we're all together. Fireworks will be flying. Theo serves me breakfast in bed and stays with me while I eat, discussing my plans for the baby shower and getting the details on how much help I'll need. When he leaves to join Henry and Dylan at the castle, I slide back down between my sheets, tug my covers up to my chin, and pull my Kindle from my nightstand, excited to have the entire day to read. Except I can't get my eyes to focus. I keep going back to last night. The way Theo's tongue– Fuck.

After several more attempts at trying to keep myself distracted and realizing nothing is going to work, I run down to Henry’s room and snatch my dildo from his nightstand. Maybe once I get myself off, I’ll be able to relax a little. I put on some music to set the mood, strip out of my pajamas, and lie down, closing my eyes and thinking about everything that's happened this last week. I slide the silicone up and down between my legs, warming myself up before I turn it on. Itdoesn't even take thirty seconds before my hips jerk when I drag it over my clit, my body seeking more friction. I turn it on, sliding it down my slit and teasing my entrance.

"Honey, I'm home!"

I freeze at the sound of Henry's voice, my heart racing. This is bad. Very, very bad. His giant strides eat up the stairs two at a time, and then the bulk of his frame is standing in my doorway, two drinks balanced in one hand and a paper bag in the other. To his credit, he doesn't stop and stare. He doesn't even pause to take in what he just walked in on. As heat climbs my cheeks, he sets the food and drinks down, unbuckles his belt, and rips it from his pants, his eyes dark.

"Is somebody being a bad girl?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Is getting myself off bad?" I ask, trying to play it off but failing miserably.

"It is when you have three guys at your beck and call, Freckles." He steps closer, his gaze raking over my body. "Do you know what happens to bad girls?"

"What?" I whisper, trying to control my breathing.

"They get tied up." He puts one knee between my legs on the bed, looping his belt around my wrists before raising my arms above my head and buckling it to the headboard.

Oh God.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Isla. You shouldn't have to lift a finger." I whimper as he drags his lips down my neck, cupping my breasts and lifting them to his mouth, circling my nipples with his tongue. I arch my back, trying to get closer to him, needing more. Just when I think he's going to continue down my body, he gets off the bed. My groan of frustration is cut short when he flips me onto my stomach in one smooth motion and pushes my knees to my chest.

"Henry!" I shriek, struggling against the belt.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, his voice low, dangerous.

"No," I pant, hating how exposed I am but loving the thrill. I look over my shoulder at him, watching as his gaze devours my body.

"What else do you keep in your drawer?"

"Don't!" But it's too late.

"What's this?" he asks, turning over a palm-sized vibrator.

"It–" I swallow hard. "I'd show you, but–"

"Tell me, Isla."

"It molds in your hand, so it's easy to hold."

"To hold where?"

"On my clit."

He studies the device, pressing the power button. His grin when it turns on is positively devious. "Oh, this is going to be fun." He drops it onto the bed next to the dildo and climbs up behind me, smoothing his palms over my ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading until I'm pressing back into his hands, whimpering.

"Can I eat you out?" he rasps, desperation dripping from every word. "You're weeping for me, Freckles. I need to taste you."

"Yes," I mewl, burying my face in the bed as he laps up my juices, from clit to ass. The comforter muffles my moan as I draw my knees up farther, pushing my ass up and out to give him better access.

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