For hours, I received them. Separately. Two at the same time. Swarthy muscle, heated breaths, men moved in alternating strokes inside me. Ferocious men. Warriors. Friends. Enemies. Lovers.

Their cocks slid together. Their bodies rubbed with friction. Their hands overlapped and tangled, and sometimes, amid the wanton frenzy, their tongues collided in a kiss of dark masculine potency.

But they never showed an inclination to fuck each other. I was their one and only focus.

They set the staggered, frantic rhythm of our unholy trinity while I kissed their mouths, worshiped their cocks, and gasped I love you’s from the depths of my soul.

Afterward, we lay in a sweaty pile of entangled limbs. Every inch of me felt sore. Lovingly used. Happy.

I smiled. Honest to God, I smiled so big and deep my face hurt. It was a smile unlike any that had come before it.

Curling up on my side in Priest’s arms, my back to his chest, I listened to his breaths as he drifted in and out of sleep.

My scarred arm rested across the hard surface of Ashley’s abdomen. He sprawled on his back, staring at the rafters. His cock lay across his thigh, thick and long, even in its flaccid state. Ridiculously gorgeous man.

“When we were in the cottage on Eleuthera…” I circled a finger around the small flat shape of his nipple. “Priest slipped a knife and an orange wedge into your hands, and you knew exactly what to do. Well done on that. The two of you managed to execute a plan, right between my legs of all places, without anyone catching on. And despite what happened to me on your ship with Madwulf, that plan with the orange saved me from a much darker fate.”

Ashley gripped my hand on his stomach and closed his eyes, his expression pained.

“During the orange incident, Priest said something about your sister.” I laced our fingers together. “He said, Just like our ruse with Arabella. What did that mean?”

Shifting to his side, Ashley graced me with his deep blue stare. “Arabella was in love with Priest. To be clear, every maiden, widow, and married lady within a hundred kilometers wanted Priest in her bed. But Arabella was cunning, lovely, and relentless. For years, I ordered him not to bed her.”

“I didn’t touch her, my lord,” Priest muttered drowsily behind me.

“I know.” Ashley reached over me and rested his hand on Priest’s thigh, his thumb stroking the burn scars. “Priest rejected her at every turn,” he said to me. “She desired him so badly she didn’t care if the affair ruined her. But neither he nor I wanted that.”

“Arabella was a spitfire.” Priest chuckled. “Christ, I miss her.”