Page 209 of Well That Happened

“You okay?” he asks again, hands already sliding beneath my shirt like he’s forgotten how to breathe without skin contact.

“I’m perfect,” I whisper. “Now ruin me.”

“Fuck,” Caleb groans, tugging off his hoodie. “You can’t just say things like that unless you’re ready to be worshipped.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” I say, sitting up and dragging my top over my head.

Grayson’s already at the edge of the bed, silent but deliberate, undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one, like he’s unwrapping a weapon.

“You sure?” he asks, voice a little hoarse. “You’ve been through a lot this week. You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I’m positive,” I say, giving him a small smile. “I want you. All of you.”

That breaks something in him. His shirt hits the floor.

Hunter’s mouth finds my neck first—rough and needy. Caleb’s hands are on my waist, slipping beneath the waistband of my leggings like they offend him personally. And Grayson moves behind me, brushing my hair to the side and pressing a kiss just below my ear.

“Mine,” he murmurs. “All mine.”

“I thought we agreed to share,” Caleb says, voice breathless as he helps pull my leggings and panties down.

“She’s still mine,” Grayson says, dark and certain.

“And mine,” Caleb counters, his fingers slipping between my thighs, teasing, coaxing me open.

Hunter’s already shifting down the bed, spreading my legs with slow reverence and deadly intent.

“You looked so good at breakfast,” he murmurs, kissing up my inner thigh. “Sitting there with your messy hair and my hickey on your collarbone like you didn’t know you were the most dangerous thing in the room.”

“I spilled orange juice on myself.”

“Still hot. I almost had to drag you under the table,” Caleb says.

I laugh, but it quickly morphs into a moan as Hunter’s mouth finds me—hot and precise, all-consuming. Grayson steadies me with a hand at my back while Caleb trails kisses across my chest like I’m made of sugar.

I lose track of who’s touching what. Hands and mouths, heat and worship, teasing and claiming. Every inch of me is kissed or licked or praised, over and over, until I’m trembling and gasping and completely undone.

“You always fall apart for us so pretty,” Caleb says, brushing sweat-damp hair from my face.

“You’re not done with me,” I manage, clinging to Grayson as he shifts me into his lap.

“Never,” Grayson says, lifting my hips with careful strength. “Never done. Not even close.”

He slides into me slowly, and I shatter all over again. Caleb kisses me through it, murmuring sweet filth against my lips, while Hunter positions himself behind me, dragging his teeth down my spine.

“We should warn the neighbors,” Caleb says. “Or at least send a thank-you basket.”

“You’re gonna break me,” I gasp as Grayson thrusts harder, Caleb’s hand sliding between my thighs to stroke me in rhythm.

Hunter leans in, his voice low and wrecked. “That’s the point.”

Grayson groans into my neck, and I feel it in every inch of me. He’s close—we’reclose—and when Caleb presses his thumb just right, everything inside me snaps.

I cry out, falling apart around Grayson as he follows with a raw, desperate sound, thrusting once more before he stills, breath ragged against my throat. He holds me throughit, forehead pressed to mine, murmuring something soft and reverent I can’t even process.

My whole body is trembling.

“I love you,” he whispers against my skin. “So fucking much, Ri.”

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