Rafe’s hand settles around my throat and tightens just enough to make my pulse jump beneath his palm.
“Do it.”
The room around us has dissolved into movement now, bodies tangled together, skin shining with oil, the air thick with heat, sex, and the last remnants of chanting turning into moans.
It is beautiful.
That doesn’t make it less wrong.
Cassian finally gives me what I’ve been aching for, two fingers sliding inside me, and my head falls back against Rafe’s shoulder as a broken sound escapes me.
“Please.”
Rafe’s mouth curves against my skin.
“Please what?”
“Fuck me.”
Cassian stills.
Rafe’s grip around my throat tightens once before easing, and his free hand slides down to replace Cassian’s. His fingers curl inside me, stretching me until I gasp.
“You heard her.”
Cassian’s breath is hot against my neck.
“This isn’t how it’s done.”
“It is now.”
The challenge sits between them for a beat before Cassian exhales sharply and lets his hands fall away.
Rafe moves before anybody can decide differently.
His fingers leave me, and before I can protest the loss, his hands are under my thighs and he’s lifting me onto the low altar behind us.
I know what it is once the edge presses into the backs of my legs.
I don’t care.
He spreads my thighs wider, and cool air moves over skin already slick with oil and want.
The room watches.
The room waits.
Rafe looks at me.
“Mine.”
Then his cock is inside me.
The stretch tears a cry out of me, my nails digging into his shoulders as he fills me. He doesn’t move slowly, and I don’t ask him to. His hips drive into mine hard enough that the altar edge presses into my back with every thrust, my skin sliding against stone and oil while I hold on to him.
Cassian comes close again.
His hands close over my breasts, kneading before his fingers pinch my nipples hard enough to make me gasp into Rafe’s mouth. Then Cassian kisses me too, bruising and desperate, as though Rafe being inside me has made whatever control he thought he had left impossible to maintain.