Zoe woke to the weight of both of them.
Ryan’s arm was heavy across her waist. Lucas’s chest was pressed to her back, one hand resting low on her stomach. The sheets were a wreck—damp in places, tangled around their legs. The room smelled like s*x and sleep and the faint metallic edge of the marks they’d left on her.
She didn’t move right away. She just lay there and catalogued the aches: the deep soreness between her legs, the residual heat in her ass and thighs from the spanking, the faint rawness in her throat. Every one of them felt earned. Every one of them made her pulse low and warm.
Ryan stirred first. His hand slid from her waist to her breast, cupping it lazily, thumb brushing the n****e until it tightened. Lucas’s mouth found the back of her neck a moment later, open and warm
