Page 782 of End Game

Dex whistles. “She's going to die.”

“I am not.”

“Your soul has left your body like four times.”

“Five,” Griffin corrects.

I glare at him.

He looks incredibly pleased with himself.

That seems rude.

Then his hands slide around my waist, and he lifts me enough to pull me toward the edge of the table.

I know that look too.

Not cautious Griffin.

Not husband checking whether the complicated polyamory is still emotionally okay Griffin.

My husband is horny.

Very fucking horny.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him.

He makes a low sound into my mouth and pulls me against him.

Whatever small amount of patience he had left apparently dies there.

His hands grip my ass.

Mine go into his hair.

And for a few minutes, the rest of the room almost disappears.

Not literally.

Dex is constitutionally incapable of disappearing.

But Griffin and I have always been good at creating our own little gravitational field in a room.

He pulls me against his cock, kisses down my neck, and says something filthy enough into my ear that I bite his shoulder.

“Table,” Ronan says.

Griffin freezes.

I look over.

Ronan is holding the vibrating cock ring.

Oh.

Oh, this is happening now.

The room shifts again.