Page 115 of Hymns of the Broken
“Did he make you feel good, baby?” he murmurs, voice all gravel and sin. “Did he make you feel wanted…the way I make you feel wanted?”
Riot’s hand tightens at my waist, his palm spreading wider like he’s staking a claim of his own, but he doesn’t move.
Neither of them does.
I’m pinned between them now—Jasper’s hand gripping my thigh, Riot’s fingers pressing firm and warm across my stomach.
And I’m trembling.
From heat. From nerves. From the sheer weight of them, both of them, like the air’s been sucked out of the kitchen.
Riot lowers his voice, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. His tone his a dark purr, a taunt meant for both of us. “Shelikedit. Enjoyed begging for it. For me. But don’t worry, Jasper…”
He shifts just enough to press me tighter between them. “…I’m sure she’ll moan just as sweet for you.”
Jasper’s fingers flex against my thigh like he’s deciding just how far he’s willing to go right here in the kitchen. His jaw ticks, his breath is steady but sharp, like a man on edge.
Then—his hand slides up, a slow trail over the curve of my hip, over my ribs, grazing just under the side of my breast before climbing higher. Every inch he claims feels like a promise, like a threat I want to give in to.
When his palm cups my jaw, his thumb skimming the corner of my mouth, I forget how to breathe…and then he kisses me.
Claimingme.
It’s deep and rough, a kiss that leaves no space between us, no doubt about what he wants. My knees weaken, and Riot’s hand tightens on my stomach like he’s keeping me from falling, his breath hot against my neck as Jasper devours me.
His mouth brushes mine once—then again, deeper. Tongue teasing the seam of my lips, tasting last night on my tongue. Riot’s breath fans hot against my neck, still unmoving, still watching. Like he’s waiting for his turn.
When Jasper pulls back, I’m flushed and dizzy between them, throat tight with need I don’t even know how to voice.
He smiles, wicked and satisfied, then backs away.
“Let’s not keep them waiting,” he murmurs, nodding toward the backyard. “Wouldn’t want to be rude.”
Riot leans in, pressing one last kiss to my jaw before grabbing my hand. I follow, pretending my legs aren’t trembling, pretending I don’t already know I’d let them both ruin me if they asked.
The door to the back patio slides open, and sunlight floods in like it’s been waiting for this moment too.
Outside, laughter erupts from the pool. Ash is cannon balling off the deep end while Macee yells something about getting her hair wet. Jace is pouring orange juice straight into a wine glass, as if it were champagne. Silas, shirtless and sunburned, raises a brow as we step outside like he knows what kind of morning it’s been.
And I do what I never thought I’d do in a moment like this.
I smile.
Still dizzy. Still branded from the inside out, but smiling.
Ash is already halfway through yelling at Silas by the time we step outside.
“You could’ve warned me it was freezing, you prick!”
Silas doesn’t even blink. “You cannon balled into my existence, Ash. I feel like we’re even. Also, it’s like, 90 degree water. Stop being a pussy.”
Macee’s perched on a lounge chair in her oversized sunglasses and black bikini, sipping from a wine glass like it’s brunch at a five-star hotel. “If any of you splash me, I will literally summon your ex-girlfriends like demons from the underworld.”
Jace pauses mid-bite of a donut. “Damn, that’s hot. Marry me. Or curse me. Either’s fine.”
I snort just as Riot drops onto a lounger beside me and tugs me into his lap without asking. Not that I’m complaining. I like that he’s not even pretending to share anymore. Jasper takes the seat next to us, long legs stretched out, a bottle of water in hand like he’s decided to cosplay as the composed one.
Macee raises a brow, eyes flicking between the three of us.
