The slick, rhythmic pull of Iralis and Sophie working together at the base of the bed was a heavy, intoxicating anchor.
Ryan lay back against the pillows, his eyes half-closed, letting the sheer physical relief wash over his exhausted muscles. For a few minutes, he just existed in the center of the storm.
The heat of Zara's mouth on his jaw, the soothing drag of Diana's nails across his scalp, and the agonizingly perfect friction below his waist created a localized vacuum that shut out the rest of the world entirely.
But the passive role had a shelf life.
The adrenaline that had been bleeding out of his system slowly began to convert into a different kind of fuel. The heavy, aching pressure in his groin compounded with every wet, downward slide of Iralis's mouth.
Ryan opened his eyes. The ambient amber light caught the sweat gleaming on his chest.
"Alright," Ryan said, his voice a low, rough scrape that broke the quiet rhythm of the room. "That's enough."
