Page 160 of Without a Trace
A beat of silence. “You’re drunk.”
I grinned. “I’m curious.”
“You’re chaos.”
“You say that like it’s not why you followed me in here.”
He moved closer, water shifting around us. Sunshine.”
I arched a brow. “Yes, darling?”
“Do you want me to lose my mind?”
“Maybe. I think it’d be hot.”
He huffed out a breath that was half laugh, half groan. “You really gonna sit here, naked in my lap, asking if I’m cool with sharing?”
I feigned innocence. “I’m trying to be mature about our situation. This is emotional growth.”
“Emotional growth doesn’t usually include asking your boyfriend if he’s down to tag-team.”
“Technically, you’re my bonded ancient sex demon, not my boyfriend.”
He dragged a hand over his face. “Christ.”
His voice dropped, low and rough by my ear. “It drives me insane, Scar. You know that, right? The idea of anyone else touching you. But then I remember what it feels like when it’s the two of us. All of us. That night in the shower—”
“That wasn’t sharing. That was claiming.”
A ripple of heat spilled through me.
I twisted just enough to glance up at him. “So you're saying... you're possessive, but horny?”
He smirked. “I’m saying you're mine. Even if he touches you, even if the bond does what it wants—you’ll still come undone for me.”
I shifted in his lap, water sloshing between us.
“Good,” I murmured. “Because I’m done pretending I don’t want you both.”
For once, I wasn’t questioning, wasn’t spiraling—I just wanted. Him. Here. Now.
I turned in his lap, straddling him, water spilling over the edge. His grip on my hips turned punishing, thumbs digging into bone like he was holding back everything.
My fingers threaded into his soaked curls, pulling just hard enough to make his jaw clench. “This what you were waiting for, Sunshine?”
His mouth crashed into mine, rough and hungry, swallowing the words I hadn’t said yet. My whole body answered, grinding down until his cock pressed exactly where I needed it—thick and ready, no hesitation between us.
“Fuck,” he muttered, teeth scraping my bottom lip before his hand slid between us, guiding himself to my entrance.
I sank onto him slow, inch by inch, my breath catching at the stretch. He was too deep already, the angle cruel and perfect. My nails dragged down his back, water sloshing around us.
He groaned—low, guttural—thrusting up hard enough to knock my rhythm off.
I gasped and tightened around him.
He didn’t let up.
His palm slid up my spine, locking at the back of my neck. “You drive me insane.”
