Callum stretched out beside her, already hard, and guided one of her hands to his cock.
Maya closed her fingers around him without hesitation, stroking in the same lazy rhythm Rowan was using on her clit. Callum's breath left him in a rough exhale; he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, then the hinge of her jaw, murmuring quiet praise against her skin.
Ronan had finished undressing. He climbed onto the bed at her other side, took her free hand, and brought it to his own length. Maya stroked both of them now, alternating pressure, watching the way their stomachs tensed and their eyes stayed locked on her face.
The dual heat of them in her hands, the wet glide of Rowan's tongue, the constant wandering of Karl's mouth and fingers—everything layered until her thighs began to tremble openly.
