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Elena leaned closer, lips grazing Marisol’s neck. “Are you sure you want to leave it all to chance?” she asked, her voice laced with a seductive challenge. “Some surprises can be... disappointing.”

Turning toward the lips she was aching to kiss again, Marisol wished Elena would move closer. She held her breath and waited for her to erase the small gap between them. Judging by the grin on Elena’s face, she knew exactly what Marisol wanted. She was just refusing to give it to her.

Marisol relented, nerves multiplying faster than she could absorb them. Tensing her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, she forced herself to speak. “Kiss me,” she breathed, body trembling.

“Who?” Zuri whispered, rewarding her attempt with lips pressed to her neck. A light touch she felt in the throbbing between her thighs.

Heart racing, she managed a weak, “Both of you.”

And then Elena’s mouth was on hers and Zuri’s teeth were scraping her neck and Marisol forgot how to think. She was breathless when Zuri made a fist in her hair, yanking her out of Elena’s kiss before they’d found a pace, and kissed her so slowly and deeply that Marisol might have simply stopped existing.

But then they were both kissing her neck again. A hand on her abdomen, another on her lower back and she didn’t know whose was whose. She was in a liminal place. A gasping in-between. Skin and touch and thundering want.

Tipping her head back, lengthening her neck, Marisol groaned at the sensation. She was already reeling from the kissing on her neck from opposite sides and in destabilizingly different ways. Already sighing at Zuri’s lush lips and Elena’s sharp fangs.

She wasn’t going to survive this, but she couldn’t remember how to care. Couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t all body and need and ache.

“Is that all you want, Bambi?” The tip of Zuri’s tongue found her ear.

Jesus.

Acting on impulse, Marisol slid her hand up Zuri’s back and tangled her fingers in her hair. With a yank she almost didn’t feel stupid doing, she turned Zuri’s mouth toward her. Dark eyes came alive with surprise, Zuri’s lips twitching into something between a smirk and a snarl.

With every muscle in her body trembling, Marisol mustered all the authority she could and demanded, “Kiss me.”

Zuri’s tongue was in her mouth and Elena’s hand was in her shirt, pushing it up. Invading her. Dominating her. Wanting her.

Dragging her teeth over Zuri’s bottom lip and eliciting a sigh that she’d replay in her mind until she dropped dead, Marisol pulled Elena closer. Bringing her back to her neck. To the skin she so desperately wanted her to savage.

She wanted to feel out of control. Wanted to be so far from herself that nothing she did counted. Or that it was the only thing that counted. Nothing else was real. There was only this moment. Only this place. Only their touch.

Imagining what Zuri would do, how Elena would move, she pulled them tighter against her. She slipped her hand up the back of Zuri’s shirt, fingertips skimming the smooth curve of her hip.

“Take this off,” she whispered against her lips. Before Zuri moved, she turned to Elena. “You.”

Eyes so bright they were nearly luminous, Elena cupped Zuri’s cheek and kissed her. Lips still tingling, Marisol felt the kiss on her own body. Felt it like an electric current heightening the combustible heat on her skin.

In her life, Marisol had never been jealous. But she never expected that the sight of two women—two women she desired—kissing would be so deliciously devastating. Despite Zuri’s dominant energy, Elena obviously was in control. She tilted Zuri into the position she wanted and Zuri didn’t resist.

Shit.

And then Elena was spinning Zuri around. When she pulled off her tank, Zuri was left in nothing but a pair of cheeky black underwear that paid homage to her incredible ass peeking out from the bottom.

Zuri had a script tattoo along her spine, etched into her perfect caramel skin. Latin, Marisol guessed with whatever was still functioning in her brain.

Reading her mind, Elena ran the tip of her tongue from the edge of Zuri’s underwear and up the middle of her back, eliciting a groan that Marisol felt like a finger slipping inside of her.

“Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus,” Elena whispered, eyes on Marisol and hand possessively on Zuri’s hip. “Love is rich with both honey and venom.” Lust emanated from Elena in a way Marisol felt like a beating pulse. “How I regret not being able to get tattoos.”

“Fuck,” Marisol sighed, body too hot and too electric and too unprepared.

Reaching out for Zuri, Marisol brushed her nose against the curve of her neck. Inhaling her warm skin and soft hair, Marisol closed her eyes.

When Zuri turned around, Marisol’s pulse jumped so hard her vision blurred and her knees nearly buckled. No one had ever looked better nearly naked in their life. Breasts full and curves reckless, everything about Zuri was mouthwatering.

“Your turn,” Elena decided, fangs running over her tempting lips.

Heart thumping at the sight of both of them looking at her at once, Marisol didn’t have time to be self-conscious before her shirt was gone. Elena’s fingertips were live wires as they traced the edge of her cleavage.