Page 121 of The Rival's Obsession

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She comes hard.

Writhing. Gasping. Clenching around us like her body doesn’t know which of us to hold tighter. And I swear, it breaks something loose inside me.

Eve collapses between us, a soaked, satisfied mess of moans and skin. Her breath dances across my collarbone as she shifts off my lap, leaving my cock slick, twitching, still desperate for release.

Dante hasn’t come either.

I can feel it in the way he watches me—his chest rising hard and fast—as he slowly pulls himself free from Eve.

We’re all flushed.

Breathless.

But I’m fucking wrecked.

Not just from the act—but from what it’s unraveling in me. What I’ve buried for nearly twenty years. What I’ve lied about. What I’ve laughed off. What I’ve kept hidden, even from myself.

The wanting.

The truth.

It’s not even about Dante, not really. It’s about me. About finally letting go. Dropping the goddamn mask. Tearing it off, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to hide behind.

And tonight… I can’t lie anymore.

Not to him.

Not to her.

Not to myself.

Dante’s warm hand is still on my thigh, and his fingers flex just so before he slides his touch off me and stands.

Eve steps between us, eyes on fire, and reaches for the condoms still wrapped around us both.

She peels them off gently. Intimately. Like she’s stripping away armor. Stripping us bare.

Taking both our hands, she presses them together—palm to palm.

Her voice is low. Breathless.

“Look at you both,” she whispers. “So fucking handsome.”

I look at Dante.

At his hand against mine. Our fingers mirroring. His thumb rubbing mine. Skin flushed. Cocks still hard and leaking between us. His dark eyes never leaving me.

I’ve imagined this.

Dreamed it.

Denied it.

But it’s nothing like the reality.

This is raw and pulsing and dangerous.

And I want it.

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