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Dane held his thumb and forefinger a smidge apart. “Jus’ a little.” Loose strands of Colin’s pale-blue hair had fallen forward, and Dane tucked them behind his ear, chuckling when they fell forward again in the next instant. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“So you’ve said.”

When had he—? Oh, right. When he’d had his fingers stuffed inside him, watching Colin’s muscles shift as he clenched around them, his pale skin glowing in the dim light.

Dane almost smiled at the memory, but he wanted to get an important point across, so he schooled his face into what he hoped was a serious expression.

“Not just your ass. Also your face.” He lost himself for a moment staring at it, the soft beauty Colin tried to hide behind his fierce scowls. “But not just your face.”

Colin gave him a teasing smile, cocking his head. “Also my neck?”

God, he did have a gorgeous neck.

“Yes,” Dane agreed dreamily. Wait. “No.” He grabbed Colin’s chin, pulling his face even closer. “ You . Your soul.”

“You can see my soul, can you?” Colin’s eyes had gone soft again, but the teasing smile hadn’t left his lips. Did he not believe Dane?

“My devil can,” Dane insisted. Seeing wasn’t quite right. More like…sensing. Tasting. But it was close enough. The important part was— “He loves it. They both do.”

Colin’s breath hitched as his smile fell, his eyes widening.

Dane startled as Fox cackled loudly beside them. “Holy shit. You thought I was going to be the problem?”

Before Dane could tell him to fuck off—they were having a moment here—Colin tore his face out of Dane’s grip and turned to scowl at him. “ Hey . Be nice to him. He’s tipsy.”

Dane nodded emphatically. Yeah. Right. Exactly.

Except—

He pulled Colin’s face back to his, eager for his attention. “My devil loves it when I’m not tipsy too,” he clarified.

Fox cackled again.

Colin flipped him off, never breaking eye contact with Dane. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and grab the lube?” Dane almost moved before he realized he was talking to Fox. He settled back as Colin stroked his cheek with slender fingers. “You still want to fuck me?”

Dane did. He really fucking did. “Yes, please.”

There was the telltale sound of Fox bounding up the stairs. Apparently he could be agreeable, as long as it was Colin he was being agreeable to.

“Hey,” Colin whispered. He was still stroking Dane’s cheek. That was lovely. He was so lovely, even when he was telling them to fuck off. “Thank you for saying such nice things.”

Dane leaned into his touch. “Wanna say nice things to you all the time,” he mumbled.

“Why don’t you, then?”

Colin was smiling again. He was beautiful when he scowled, but this was good too. Everything about him was good.

But he’d asked a question, hadn’t he? Dane tried to gather his thoughts. “We’re trying to be patient. Trying not to—”

“Not to what?” Colin prompted.

“Not to overwhelm you.”

“Don’t you remember? I want to be overwhelmed.”

Colin’s firm cock was pressing against him, and Dane couldn’t be sure they were talking about the same thing. Did Colin want to be overwhelmed only when they fucked him, or overwhelmed in the sense that Dane kind of sort of wanted to lock him in this house for all eternity and never let him go?

Probably the former, unfortunately. Even with stolen, whiskey-laden blood running through his veins, Dane knew he shouldn’t say that latter part out loud. Those were thoughts that belonged firmly in his head.

Then Fox was back, tossing the lube on the couch along with an infuriating, knowing smile directed at Dane.

Dane protested loudly as Colin escaped his grasp, hopping off his lap deftly.

But then he was stripping, and all rational thought fled from Dane’s brain.

He quickly shrugged his own shorts off, and Colin clambered back onto his lap, this time with an endless expanse of bare skin available to Dane’s touch.

Fox loomed behind Colin, pushing him forward, pressing him closer into Dane. “Why don’t you shut Mr. Chatty up with that beautiful mouth of yours, slayer. I’ll open you up for him.”

Colin’s lips lowered to his, and Dane took what was offered, licking into his mouth while Fox busied himself behind them.

Dane could tell by the harsh whines and frantic push of Colin’s hips that Fox wasn’t taking his time opening him the way Dane had, but Dane was grateful for the rush.

A feverish, urgent need was thrumming through his veins.

He needed inside Colin, needed it more than anything.

But Colin distracted him well enough with his eager, searching mouth, and Dane didn’t know how long it had been when there was a soft slap of Fox’s hand on Colin’s skin. “He’s ready for you.”

Had he just smacked Colin’s ass? Were they allowed to do that?

It didn’t matter, not if Colin was ready to be filled.

Dane gripped his aching cock at the base, watching, enraptured, as Colin lowered himself onto it.

Fuck . He groaned. It was heaven. It was torture.

He was so fucking tight—tighter than the last time Dane had filled him.

Last time he’d been sleepy and relaxed. Now he was all worked up, his cheeks flushed, his eyes—

“Beautiful,” Dane murmured. “Beautiful, beautiful.”

“Jesus,” Colin half laughed, half gasped, his hands braced on Dane’s shoulders. “How much whiskey did that guy have?”

“Don’t need whiskey to think you’re beautiful,” Dane insisted. He grabbed Colin’s face with his hands, bringing their foreheads together. “You feel so good on my dick. Do you?” he asked. “Feel good?”

Colin kissed him tenderly. His eyes were soft again, half-lidded with arousal. “I feel so good. Even better if you moved, huh?”

Right. Their fierce, independent, moody human who liked to be manhandled in the bedroom. Dane could do that. He let go of Colin’s face and grabbed onto his hips, bringing him up and slamming him back down, moving him exactly the way he craved.

Colin’s breath stuttered into a moan. “Oh—oh fffuck.”

Fox had collapsed on the couch beside them, staring at Colin with his head resting on his elbow, his other hand stroking his hard cock. When had he gotten naked? “Not so gentle now, is he?” he crooned. “You got him all worked up, slayer.”

Dane ignored him, bouncing Colin on his cock.

He fucking loved this, loved the way he was enveloped by all things Colin—his beautiful face hanging over him, mouth slack and eyes glassy; his desert smell all around him, soaking into his very skin; and his tight fucking heat, sucking Dane’s cock inside over and over again.

He let go of Colin’s hips, wrapping his arms up and over his shoulders, holding him down while he punched his hips up.

He lost himself in it, knowing he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted.

His balls were already tight and heavy, and every thrust put him closer to the edge.

“Gonna come inside you,” he growled. “Gonna fill you the fuck up.”

Colin whined his agreement, tucking his head into Dane’s neck and biting down with blunt teeth. Hard. Fire licked up Dane’s spine, and he came, emptying into Colin’s warm, willing body.

Heaven on fucking earth.

A rush of cold air hit his skin as Colin was lifted off him. “Hey,” he protested. Colin’s cock was still hard. Shouldn’t Dane be taking care of that? He could put his mouth on it. When his bones worked again, that was.

But Fox didn’t give him back. “My turn,” he insisted, plopping Colin on his knees, facing backward next to Dane on the couch. “It won’t take long. That was hot as fuck.” He pressed a kiss to Colin’s shoulder. “That okay with you, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” Colin said on a sigh, resting his head on his arms.

Fox smacked his ass lightly. “That’s what I thought. Ass out, little lamb. Keep your arms on the back of the couch.” Dane watched as he entered Colin from behind in one smooth thrust, groaning deeply. “Fuck. You’re wet.”

That made Colin squirm, although he followed Fox’s instructions and kept his arms where they were. “Jesus. I’m not wet .”

Fox started moving. “You are, slayer. Wet and full of cum. Just as our kept slut should be.” He wrapped a hand around Colin’s cock, stroking once over the head. “Feels fucking amazing.”

Apparently that was all it took. Dane watched, mesmerized, as Colin’s dick pulsed and he came against the back of the couch, whimpering into his hands.

What a good fucking boy.

Dane hummed his approval and occupied himself by pressing closemouthed kisses onto Colin’s arm, half listening to the sounds of Fox frantically fucking himself to the finish line.

When he pulled out however long later, Colin started to collapse against the cushions, into a heap, so Dane tugged him back to fall onto him instead, trusting Fox would get what they needed to clean off.

He tucked Colin in close and glanced at the cum now coating the back cushions. Maybe the couch would need a cleaning before it could go to the good things museum.

Colin nuzzled into him, soft and sweet in the aftermath of what they’d done to him. “You’re cute when you’re tipsy,” he murmured. “You know that?”

Dane ran a hand down Colin’s sweat-slicked back. “We just did our best to fuck you into a coma. That’s not cute .”

“It’s kind of cute.”

Dane could feel himself sobering up—the effects never lasted long. It was kind of a pity, if Colin really thought he was cute like this. But he’d gotten some mind-blowing sex out of it, at least. Had gotten to tell Colin he—

Dane stiffened. Wait, what exactly had he told Colin?

Before he could ask, the doorbell rang.