Page 140 of Top Shelf

“Used to what?” I ask softly.

“Used to seeing you like that, Little Serpent,” Ronan expands, his voice rough and gaze as wild as Lucian’s. “So sexy and vulnerable-looking.” He trails the back of his fingers down my arm. “Looking at us like you need something, but you don’t know how to ask for it.”

Leaning in, Silas kisses the soft spot on the back of my shoulder. His fingers drag streaks of green paint across my ribs before he crouches and licks the skin directly beneath.

I shiver.

“Now I regret not getting the edible paint,” Lucian comments, sounding almost in awe as he watches Silas mark my body with his lips and fingers.

Ronan exhales slowly like he’s losing a battle with himself, while Lucian outright groans.

“You have got to stop looking at us like that,” Ronan says, sounding anguished.

“What look?” I ask coyly.

“The one that makes me want to forget we still have half an apartment to paint.”

Leaning back into Silas’s arms, I smirk up at Ronan. “It doesn’t all need done today.”

Unable to stay away any longer, Lucian moves to my side. “She’s got a point,” he says, dipping his fingers in paint before splaying them across my abdomen.

Grabbing my hips, he twists me toward him as he gets to his knees in front of me. Writing his name just above the waistband of my shorts, he groans. “God, you look so good with my name on you.”

Shocked, I bark a laugh. Sliding my paint-covered hands into his hair, I tug on the strands until he’s looking up at me.Fuck, that’s a view I’m not going to forget.

“I am not getting your name tattooed on me, Lucian.”

He smirks up at me. “Fine, I’ll get your name on meinstead.” Grabbing my finger, he dunks it in the paint. Holding my hand, he directs my finger to his chest and writes out my name on his skin. “This will have to suffice until I can get something more permanent.”

I splutter in response. Before I can come up with something more coherent, Ronan moves in. His hand settles against the side of my neck, paint-streaked fingers warm against my skin as his gaze drifts over the mess Lucian made of me. Green paint smeared across my stomach. My ruined shorts. Lucian kneeling at my feet with my name spread across his chest like some sort of offering.

Ronan’s expression darkens with want. “I’ve never been particularly into tattoos, but I might have to make an exception.”

Shaking my head, I smack his chest. “No one is getting my name tattooed on them.”

He smirks at me but doesn’t say anything. The way he looks at me should be illegal. It’s as though he sees every fractured little piece of me and wants them anyway. Lowering his head, he brushes his lips over mine before capturing them in a heated kiss.

It’s over far too quickly, leaving me breathless.

Ronan’s gaze flicks over the paint still coating my skin before he reaches for the tray beside us. Dipping two fingers into the green paint, he studies me for a second like he’s considering exactly where to touch me. Then he drags the paint slowly across the swell of my breast.

My breath catches hard.

The movement is almost painfully gentle. Reverent.

“Ronan,” I whisper.

His eyes lift to mine at the sound of his name.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he says quietly. “Happy. Relaxed.” His fingers trail lower, tracing paint across my ribs.

Emotion swells unexpectedly in my chest.

Silas smiles against my shoulder before pressing another kiss there. Turning me gently until I’m facing him, his fingers slide beneath my chin. Paint is smudged across his knuckles as he studies me with those intense blue eyes.

Lowering his gaze, he uses the paint to draw a symbol in the center of my chest. It’s the same one he drew on my palm that night.

An anchor.