Page 104 of Death Warden
I grabbed a towel and left them in my room. It was only when I’d locked myself in the bathroom alone that the enormity of what had occurred hit me full force.
The conduit, the life partner I’d been waiting for, was not one but three amazing males.
Spectre, Logan, and Curo belonged to me. Now all I had to do was make sure Dralos didn’t do anything that would take me away from them.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Ireturned to my room twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel, hair damp from the shower to find the lights turned down low. Instrumental music played and the sheets had been changed and smelled of fabric softener.
A bare-chested Spectre sat on the bed, back against the headboard, wearing loose joggers. Curo, also bare-chested, lay across the bottom of my bed in black pajama pants. Logan faced away from me, his naked bronze back rippling with muscle as he sorted through several bottles of oils.
“What’s all this?” I approached the bed.
“You’re getting a massage,” Curo said. “Courtesy of Logan.”
His silver hair had fallen into his eyes, and I reached across to brush it back.
Logan looked my way. His chestnut hair was mussed into an adorable, just-gotten-out-of-bed look that softened the chiseled lines of his serious face.
“Lie down,” he ordered.
I didn’t take orders well, not usually, but his tone sent a thrill through me. Maybe being submissive just this once could be fun.
I climbed over Spectre’s powerful thighs, allowing my hands to linger before lying down on my front next to him.
“Just close your eyes and enjoy,” Curo crooned. “We’re gonna make you feel good, Adi.”
The towel was peeled away, leaving me naked. I caught their collective intake of breath and my stomach flipped knowing that I was prompting the reaction.
“Like what you see?” I wanted to sound cocky, but my tone came out breathless.
Spectre’s chest vibrated. “Touch her,” he said.
Hands slick with oil trailed up my back, exerting just the right amount of pressure to elicit a sigh. He swept outward and down so his fingers brushed the sides of my breasts, then smoothed down to my waist and up to the small of my back before moving back up my spine. He did this several times, and each time I wanted him to go lower, to reach further around my sides and touch my breasts, to run his hands over my ass and between my thighs. But he kept teasing, allowing my frustration to build.
“Fuck,” Curo said. “I’m getting hard watching this.”
“Go lower,” Spectre ordered.
Logan’s hands slid over my ass cheeks. He caressed and cupped me before dipping between my thighs.
I moaned.
He did it again, and this time I pushed my ass up slightly, inviting him to touch me more intimately.
“Turn over,” Spectre said. “Onto your back.”
I obliged to find them staring down at me with dark, hungry eyes and heaving chests. The air buzzed with sexual tension and the promise of pleasure to come.
I licked my lips. “Touch me, Logan.”
He oiled up his hands and sweet vanilla tickled my senses. I sucked in a breath as he slid them up my stomach and finally cupped my breasts.
My eyelids fluttered closed. “Yes.”
He massaged me, tugging on my nipples, rolling them between his fingers until I was gasping and arching. With each tug I felt a jolt between my thighs. It was like there was an imaginary string at the beaded tip of my breasts reaching down to my clit, and each roll of his fingers reminded me of the caress of a tongue.
“Oh, fuck. I’m gonna explode,” Curo bit out.
