Page 374 of End Game

“You like his praise.”

My entire body heats.

Micah's smile deepens. “She does.”

Assholes.

All of them.

Griffin turns me toward him. “And apparently she likes being discussed like she isn't standing right here.”

My mouth drops open.

He kisses me before I can answer.

I end up on my bed.

Obviously.

How we get there is less clear.

Clothes disappear.

Ronan is naked first somehow, which feels statistically impossible considering the man's relationship with orderly clothing removal.

Micah is next.

Then Griffin.

And seeing all three of them naked together does something to my brain that probably deserves further analysis when I am less horny.

Griffin catches me staring. “Which one of us are you looking at?”

“Yes.”

He laughs.

Micah climbs onto the bed beside me, and his hand settles on my inner thigh. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

He kisses me while his fingers begin exploring.

It’s slow and familiar—he knows me.

Maybe that's the thing that makes tonight different.

Every one of them knows me in a different way.

Ronan knows what happens when he takes decisions away.

Griffin knows my body through repetition and learning every tiny response until he doesn't have to think.

Micah watches.

Always.

His fingers find exactly what he wants, and my hips lift. “That's my Princess,” he murmurs.