They didn’t leave the bed.
The morning light had strengthened into something harder and clearer by the time Zoe stretched between them again, limbs loose, skin still marked from the night and the first round of the morning. Lucas’s come was drying on her thighs. Ryan’s taste was still in her mouth. She looked wrecked already hair stuck to her neck, lips swollen, the bruise on her collarbone dark enough to look like a brand and neither of them was finished with her.
Ryan moved first. He hooked a hand under her knee and shoved it high and wide, opening her completely. Lucas watched, eyes dark, while Ryan dragged two fingers through the mess between her legs, collected what was already there, and pushed it back inside her.
“Look at that,” Ryan muttered. “Still f*****g dripping.”
Zoe’s hip
