Quietly, as softly as I possibly could, I gave him my answer.

“What was that? Speak up, girl.”

“My ass,” I said, still barely above a whisper. “I want you to fuck my pussy and put the ice in my ass.”

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, I would have dropped dead from saying that.

Lucas loosened the belt and Manson tugged me to my feet, kicking the chair out of his way. With one hand around my throat, he walked me backwards until my butt hit the kitchen table, his body crowding close to mine.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for us?” he said as Lucas’s arms wrapped around his chest. Lucas rested his chin on Manson’s shoulder, tenderly kissing his neck. He tugged at the neckline of Manson’s shirt, pulling it aside so he could bite. Manson didn’t wince at the pain; he smiled.

I nodded quickly, shivering at the touch of the table’s cool wooden surface on my naked skin. “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

He smirked, regarding me as Lucas’s nails dragged down his chest. “Should I let Lucas fuck you?”

The other man stiffened at the sound of his name, growling softly as he popped the button on Manson’s jeans. It was like he couldn’t stop touching, as if he craved the contact so much that he was on the verge of ripping Manson’s clothes off.

Watching them had my insides clenching with need. “Please,” I said. “Yes, please, let him fuck me.”

Lucas slipped his hand into Manson’s jeans, stroking him. Manson closed his eyes for a few seconds, his breath deepening as he savored Lucas’s touch. All my desire that had been torturously building throughout the morning hit its peak. I wanted them, both of them, in whatever way they wanted to take me. I dared to reach out, cupping my hand over the bulge in Manson’s jeans so my hand moved in unison with Lucas’s.

Softly, darkly, Manson said, “Lucas, do you want to fuck her?”

The other man’s eyes were black as night when he looked at me. “Yes. I want to make her scream.”

“Ask nicely.”

Lucas bared his teeth for a moment and buried his mouth against Manson’s neck as if to keep the words inside.

“Please let me fuck her.” He said it like it was a curse. He sounded so desperate, like it physically pained him to ask, as if the longing was unbearable.

The desire in his voice was one of the sexiest things I’d ever heard.

Manson’s fingers dug into my throat as he kissed me. His kiss was deep, possessive, consuming the breath right out of my lungs. I was wound so tight I was shaking, hot and cold clashing inside me, creating a storm I couldn’t escape.