Page 87 of Shifted Desire

“Lucky bastard,” Declan grumbles good-naturedly. “Thanks for coming over to say hi and rub your good fortune in my face.”

We laugh, the two other men sitting with him joining in. They watch us with a touch of curiosity and no small amount of appreciation for Samantha in her tight cream dress.

Samantha raises a subtle brow at me, asking wordlessly if I’m okay with her selection. I give her a small nod because I can’t think of a better scenario to test the waters of group play than with a dominant I trust. And if these men here are friends of his, I don’t doubt that they’ll be equally respectful of Samantha.

She smiles. “Actually, we came over because I was hoping you might be interested in me rubbing something else in your face.”

I snort at her wording, and Declan’s grin widens. “Oh, really?”

Samantha nods, her confidence growing. “While Wolf here is a very good boy, he’s only one man, and sometimes a girl needs more.” She drags her gaze across the group. “Tonight, I need a lot more.”

The energy shifts from humor to heat so fast it takes my breath away. I may not be a succubus, but their interest is so keen that even I can feel it in the air.

The tallest of the group, a fit Asian man with thick, grey-streaked hair, licks his lips. “We’d be more than happy to help you out, beautiful.”

The rest of the group nods, and Declan cocks a brow at me. “You don’t mind sharing?”

Samantha squeezes my hand, and I smile at the sweet, worried gesture.

This is going to be a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to show Samantha that there’s nothing wrong with her getting what she needs. That this can be another layer in what makes us great together.

“I don’t mind at all.”

32

It’s just sex.

We’re here to have fun, and I’ve done this so, so many times before. Maybe not this exact configuration—the novelty of which should make me more excited—but I’m an expert at sex.

A sexpert.

This is what I was born to do.

Why are my palms so fucking sweaty?

Has it always been this hot in The Vault? Someone needs to talk to them about checking the AC in the private rooms because it’s clearly not working.

It’s not even like I’m worried about endangering myself by being in a room with four men, because there’s security and Nathan would annihilate anyone who breaks the rules we established chatting out in the lounge.

So why am I freaking out??

Nathan catches my eye as he slips past me to sit on the chair facing the bed in the center of the mood-lit playroom, his fingertips brushing against my waist.

Oh.

Right.

He’s why I’m so fucking anxious.

It’s not getting all my holes filled like I’m some kind of human twinkie, it’s that someone I really care about is here with me.

Twice before, I’ve tried having group sex with a person I was interested in maybe growing a relationship with, and both times it ended with them jealous and judging me for liking it. Logically, I know they weren’t the right people for me, and that plenty of people have open sexual relationships. But paying attention to logic over emotion has never been my strong suit.

The odds of this destroying what I’m building with Nathan seem far too high, even after his reassurances. Fear of ruining things buzzes in every cell of my body.

Nathan says he understands why I need this and seems turned on, if the erection in his pants is any indication, but watching someone you’re seeing get gangbanged is much different in theory than reality.

Guess it’s better to destroy any illusions he has now before things get…deeper.