I’m confused. I blink away, glancing at Bastian. I flush, remembering last night. But I turn my attention back to Amadeo.

“You had no right. You’re invading my privacy.”

At that, he chuckles, then walks me backward until my back hits the wall. “Your privacy, Vittoria? I think we’re past that, don’t you?” He shifts my wrists to one hand, and with a tug, the towel loosens and drops to the floor. He glances down, then brings his mouth to mine and kisses me, and I’m taken aback. Because Amadeo doesn’t like kissing me. It does something to him. And to me.

I make a sound—it’s not a protest so much as surprise—and I close my eyes and feel him. Just feel him.

“I like you, Dandelion,” he says before taking my mouth again and swallowing anything I would have said. When he draws back to look down at me, his eyes are almost black. “I heard my brother promised to make you come twice.” He grins, and Bastian chuckles from his place at the wall.

My skin flushes with heat. “Are you making fun of me?” I wriggle to get my wrists free, but his grin only widens as he holds tight. “Are you fucking making fun of me?”

“Maybe a little,” he says as he dips his head to kiss my neck, then drops to his knees and releases my hands as he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder. He brings his mouth to my sex, and whatever response I had is gone. Poof. Vanished. All I can do is weave my fingers into his hair and moan as I drop my head back and bite my lip when I feel his wet tongue on me, inside me.

I open my eyes and meet Bastian’s gaze across the room. His arms are still folded, and his eyes are locked on mine, and when Amadeo closes his mouth over my clit, it takes my breath away. I look down as I come, look at my hands in his hair. At the wedding band on one finger and the empty space on the other. And Bastian standing alone across the room. And I know at least one thing. One thing about the brothers. About my feelings for them. And that knowledge terrifies me.

16

BASTIAN

I watch her come. Fuck. I can watch her come twenty-four-seven.

Amadeo rises to his feet, lifts a wilted Dandelion off hers, and carries her to the bed.

“Brother,” he says, voice hoarse. “How do you want her?”

“On her hands and knees so I can see my options.”

Amadeo turns to her. “You heard him.”

She looks from Amadeo to me then back and gets on her hands and knees like a good girl. She lowers herself to her elbows and looks back at me, offering herself to me.