Page 204 of His Drama Queen

Corvus laughed, breathless and wrecked. "Is that your review of our performance?"

"I can't—" I shifted in the chair, desperate for pressure, for anything. "You look—god, you're so fucking—"

My hand slid down my stomach without conscious decision. I didn't realize I'd done it until Dorian's eyes tracked the movement, darkening further.

"Touch yourself," he commanded. "Let us watch."

"I can't—the showcase—I need to focus—"

"You're so focused you're about to come from watching." His voice was rough velvet. "Touch yourself, Vespera. Show us what we do to you."

My hand slipped under my sleep shirt, between my legs, and the first touch made me gasp. I was soaked. Slick and desperate and throbbing.

"That's it," Corvus groaned. His hips jerked as Oakley took him deeper. "Fuck, that's—watching you touch yourself while we—"

I circled my clit and bit back a moan. Couldn't tear my eyes away from them. From Oakley taking everything Dorian gave him and still working Corvus with single-minded determination. From the sweat gleaming on their skin. From the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this.

Made for each other.

Made for me.

"I want—" The words caught in my throat. "I want to be part of this. Part ofyou. Not because of the bond. Not because biology says I should. I want this. I wantyou."

Silence. Breathing. The wet sounds of Oakley's mouth on Corvus and the slap of Dorian's hips.

Then Corvus, voice wrecked: "Then get over here. Join your pack."

I was moving before I could second-guess it, crossing to the bed on unsteady legs. Dorian slowed his rhythm, careful, and Oakley pulled off Corvus with a gasp that made my core clench.

Three sets of eyes on me. Wanting me. Choosing me.

Not because they had to. Because they wanted to.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I admitted. My voice was shaking. Everything was shaking. "I've never—with more than one—"

"We'll figure it out." Corvus sat up and reached for me, pulling me onto the bed. "We'll go slow. We'll—"

I kissed him. Hard. Desperate. Channeling every ounce of want I'd been holding back while I watched. He made a surprised sound, then kissed me back with equal intensity, his hands sliding up my sides.

When I pulled back, we were both panting.

"Okay," he said, pupils blown wide. "Maybe not that slow."

Corvus pulled me onto the bed, fitting my back against his chest. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my shirt higher, as Oakley moved to kneel in front of me—still flushed and panting from what Dorian had been doing to him. And Dorian watched from beside us, one hand lazily stroking himself, eyes dark with want.

"Can we touch you?" Oakley asked, hands hovering over my knees. His hazel eyes were still dark, lips still wet from sucking Corvus.

"Please."

He spread my legs gently, exposing me, and his sharp inhale was audible. "Fuck. You're soaked."

"I've been watching you three fuck for ten minutes. What did you expect?"

"This." He leaned in and put his mouth on me through my underwear, hot and wet, and I nearly came off the bed.

Corvus's arms tightened around me, holding me steady. "Easy. Let him take care of you."

"I can't—it's too much—"