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A sob broke free from him.
Fuck.
Leaning forward, she kissed him. She was pressed to his front, Remy behind him.
Surrounding him.
These two people. One who loved him. One who he thought might become closer to him than anyone else but her.
They loved him.
All of his team were dead. Would they want him to live in pain and self-hate?
Or would they want him to live?
Logically, he’d always known the answer. But for so long he’d lived on emotion. Except when it came to taking care of her.
This wasn’t a quick fix. He knew that. He wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and have everything go back to how it used to be.
But . . . it could be a start.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Good. You’re doing so well. It’s time for a reward. Isa? Do you think you can manage?”
Tink ran her hand up and down his thick shaft.
“Yeah. I have this.” She slid onto her tummy and sucked him off.
Fuck. It felt so good. Without thought, he leaned further into Remy. Let the other man hold him up.
He didn’t know if he could do this again . . . if he wanted to.
But under some circumstances . . . perhaps.
“Give in. Let her take care of you. Let us,” Remy whispered. “Come for us.”
She didn’t move hard or fast. God, he hoped this really was all right for her. That she wasn’t feeling dizzy.
He could be such a selfish ass sometimes.
Slap!
“Stop. No thinking. Just feel,” Remy directed.
His orgasm rushed through him, almost blinding him with pleasure as he roared his release. Isa sucked him down, taking every drop until he nearly collapsed forward.
Remy held him up, quickly undoing the scarf around his wrists. Then they both held him. Tink in his lap, Remy wrapping his arms around both of them.
Finally, he stirred. “Tink needs to be in bed.”
“You both do,” Remy rumbled. “I’m proud of you, man. That wasn’t easy.”
Fuck.
He was never going to admit how much those words meant to him.
“How are you feeling?” Remy asked. “Hate me?”
