Page 70 of For Love and Blood and Fury

Zuri should have realized that she was in trouble long before then, but watching Elena touch Marisol—watching her bring Marisol right to the edge before pulling back—it became well and truly obvious that she was oh so very fucked.

It didn’t matter, she rationalized. They only had a handful of hours before sunset. Before they were leaving. Before she was going back to where she was in complete control. Before she was away from them and neither one of them was her problem. It was what she wanted, she reminded the pang in her stomach. What she needed. They were scattering back to normal and none of this mattered.

Pulling Marisol’s shirt over her head, Zuri exposed her athletic form. But more than lean muscle, it was how her flush spread over every inch of her skin that Zuri couldn’t get enough of.

“Touch me,” Marisol begged without opening her eyes. “Make it hurt,” she panted, sending a devastating shockwave through Zuri’s unprepared body. “I want to feel you.”

Elena cursed a fraction of a second before she turned Marisol around, before she bent Marisol over the counter and pulled the leggings half way down her thighs. But Zuri didn’t let Elena slip inside. Not alone.

Interlacing their fingers while Marisol waited for them, open and glistening with arousal, Zuri kissed Elena with all the frustration coursing through her. Kissed her hard to remind her she was not hers. That she’d never be hers again.

With a groan, Elena bit down on her lip, drawing blood that she collected with the tip of her tongue. It was a microdose of her usual bite, but it was enough to flood Zuri’s system and cloud her judgment.

“I hate you,” Zuri moaned into their kiss.

“You’ll never stop loving me,” Elena promised. “You will always be mine.”

If only those two weren’t mutually exclusive.

Refusing, Zuri reached for Marisol. Pulling her up by tugging her hair with a gentle touch, Zuri turned Marisol’s face toward her to kiss her. She yielded, lips parting and tongue finding Zuri’s with a restraint that didn’t match her body language. God, she was maddening.

Letting go of Elena’s hand while Elena kissed a line up Marisol’s exposed back, Zuri teased her entrance with the tip of one finger. Finding Marisol nearly dripping wet, Zuri bit back a moan.

She hadn’t really planned on making it hurt, and she would not let Elena do it either. Marisol had kept up with them every second they were together, but she wasn’t sure they had the same definitions ofhurt. Elena sure as hell didn’t.

But then Elena’s hand was back in Zuri’s hair and she was biting where her lip had already stopped bleeding, making sure she’d leave a bruise when she bit her again. And fuck, she wanted her to bite. Not a nip, but the deep puncture wounds that would take weeks to heal on her sensitive inner thigh. Her body was a stupid traitor who hadn’t learned a single fucking thing in five long years, but she couldn’t manage to care.

Kissing Elena back hard, biting her tongue, cursing against her lips, Zuri reached for Elena’s hand again. Guiding her middle finger over Marisol’s slick entrance, Zuri took control and made sure Elena eased her finger in slowly.

Arching her back, Marisol moaned her approval. Tossing her head back, she thrust her hips backward, swallowing Elena’s finger to the knuckle. From behind, Zuri indulged in the tactile pleasure of feeling Elena moving slowly inside Marisol before sliding lower and finding her clit with her fingertips.

Marisol dropped her head again, elbows on the counter and back flexing with every agonizing swing of her hips. Each time Zuri circled her clit, she moaned. The sound was addictive, and all Zuri wanted was more.

“Don’t stop.” Marisol’s voice trembled when she whispered. “God, please. I’m so close.”

“I thought you wanted to feel me,” Zuri teased. “Should it be over so soon?”

She ran her fingers back to where Elena was moving deep and slow, and slipped her middle finger in beneath hers.

Tensing around them, Marisol sucked in a breath. “Shit,” she squeaked, legs trembling and a thin sheen of sweat making her perfect body even more achingly beautiful.

With a glance, Zuri told Elena to wait. To give her a second to adjust. Elena looked back at her with pitch black eyes and made a face that said,do you think I’m an asshole?

Zuri responded with a silent and resolute:obviously.

The moment Marisol started moving again, urging both of their fingers in, Elena kissed the breath out of Zuri’s lungs. It was unfairly soft, mirroring the same gentle pressure they were using while making shallow movements inside Marisol. It was unfair. Cheating. A violation of wartime treaties. Fuck, it was good. And then Zuri curled both of their fingers, pushing Marisol closer to the edge they might just let her cross.

“Deeper,” Marisol panted, voice hoarse. “Please.”

She was so wet that there was no resistance when they pushed completely inside, fingers moving together like they were one. They found an easy and agonizing rhythm.

“Faster,” Marisol begged, like she was close. “Harder.”

Without breaking Elena’s kiss or their tempo, Zuri reached around the front of Marisol’s body and found her clit with her free hand.

It was the end.

Slamming back into them so hard that Zuri would have pulled away if Elena hadn’t held her steady, Marisol devolved into a tangle of moans. Arm around her waist, Elena kept her from collapsing while she rushed to an orgasm that made Zuri’s entire body catch fire.

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