Page 60 of The Dead Don’t Scream

I stroke the back of her thigh.

“We can stop.”

“No.” Her fingers tighten around my wrist. “Give me a second.”

We give her as many as she needs. Her body gradually relaxes. The gold ribbon brushes my arm. Mine. Still mine. Sloane looks at me again.

“More.”

I push deeper. Inch by careful inch. Her mouth falls open. Rhys doesn’t move until I am fully inside her. The sensation is indescribable.

Sloane stretched between us. Rhys separated from me only by the thin wall of her body. Dante waiting near her lips. Every part of her occupied. Surrounded. Chosen. By three masked men and their cocks.

“Color?” I ask.

“Green.”

Rhys withdraws slightly. I remain still. Then I move as he presses forward. Sloane cries out. Dante guides himself back between her lips, giving her something to hold while Rhys and I find a careful rhythm. Not thrusting together. Alternating. Filling every space the other leaves behind.

Her body trembles beneath us. The altar creaks. Candles flicker. Wind throws dead branches against the stained-glass windows. The entire chapel seems to breathe with her. Sloane’s moans become helpless sounds around Dante. He cradles her face.

“No deeper than you take me.”

She answers with one tap against his thigh. Check-in. Dante withdraws immediately. Her chest heaves.

“Too much?” he asks.

She swallows.

“I need⁠—”

Her forehead creases. Rhys stops. I stop. All movement ends.

“Color?” Rhys asks.

“Yellow.”

I withdraw carefully. Rhys does the same. Dante moves away from her head. Sloane curls onto her side. Her breathing comes too quickly. I reach for her. Rhys catches my wrist.

“Ask.”

I could kill him. He is also right.

“May I touch you?”

Sloane reaches for me. I gather her against my chest. The burlap mask presses into her hair while I hold her. Dante brings water. Rhys kneels in front of her.

“No one is disappointed,” he says.

Sloane drinks, then looks at the three of us.

“I wasn’t scared.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Dante says.

“It was the position. I couldn’t see Callum, and Dante was—” She gestures toward her mouth. “I felt surrounded in the wrong way.”

Rhys nods.