Page 385 of End Game

“Can we paint you?” Micah pants as he pulls away from me and starts stroking himself.

“Yes,” I manage to rasp before I turn toward Griffin and give my attention to him.

It’s only moments later when I feel Micah’s cum hit me in hot ropes, as my name comes rough from his throat.

I feel it all over my throat and chest.

The sight must do something to Griffin because he follows seconds later—one hand still cupping my face, as his cum joins Micah’s.

Gently, I still stroke both of them as they soften and twitch in my hands, but Ronan is still working himself.

It doesn’t take him long either before he paints me, too.

And I am left kneeling in the middle of it.

Breathless.

Flushed.

Covered in cum.

Ridiculously pleased with myself.

For approximately two seconds.

Then Griffin looks at Micah.

Micah looks at Griffin.

They both smile and then suddenly their hand close together above my head.

I see the thought happen.

My eyes widen. “Don't you fucking dare.”

They both grin and then high-five each other before dropping their arms.

“Oh my God.”

Griffin laughs. “You thought it.”

“I absolutely did not.”

Micah looks suspiciously innocent. “You did.”

“I hate all of you.”

From the bed, Ronan says, “You don't.”

I look at him.

He's still recovering and somehow still smug.

“Especially you.”

“Also untrue.”

I start laughing.