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Dirty and used.

“Fuck off, Christian,” I grit, tearing the condom open with my teeth. “You're killing my boner and Arya needs to come.”

He freezes, hand halting on his shaft mid-stroke. “The fuck did you just say?”

Huffing in annoyance, I roll on the rubber, unable to ignore how wide Arya's eyes just went. “Should I repeat myself? I want to fuck without your cock in my peripheral vision, so get the hell out.”

He bolts upright before snatching my wrist. “Are you for real right now, homie? You're asking me to leave while you fuck my girl alone? I don't think so.”

I sneer cruelly. “But you can fuck her alone, right? And you can get your dick sucked by me alone, but her and I can't do shit unless you're here?”

“Damn right,” he growls, clenching his jaw. “So watch yourself, pendejo.”

“No, you watch your fucking hypocrisy,” I snap, scrambling to my feet. “Either you love her or you control her. Which one is it? Because it sure as shit ain't both.”

Arya gasps softly. “Are you…are you two fighting over me?”

Our attention snaps to her in bewilderment, and Christian shakes his head. “This ain’t about you, Arya.”

“The hell it’s not!” She sits up, glaring daggers at us as she covers her bare chest. “You’re both yelling like I’m some piece of meat. Is anyone going to ask what I want from all of this?”

“You want me,” Christian grits, rising off the bed. “You’re not his, remember?”

I step closer, until we’re toe to toe, spitting my next words into his face. “She’s not a fucking trophy, Christian, she’s a person. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Too busy treating us like props in your little threeway fantasy.”

He shoves me backward hard, sending me flat on my ass.

Arya shouts, attempts to run after me, but Christian yanks her back by the arm like he fucking owns her. “Don’t touch him!”

And then I see red.

I launch at him, fist to jaw, body to body. We crash into the dresser, the lamp crashing to the floor. Christian grunts, swinging wild, but I duck and aim for his fucking kidney, hitting it so hard I hope he pisses blood for a week.

We're a mess of rage and half-naked bodies, everything twisted inside of me finally breaking loose. Arya screams, trying to pull us apart as we pummel each other in the limited space between the beds.

“Stop it!” she cries. “Fucking stop! Both of you!”

Somewhere between the bruises and busted lip, I realize that I’m not even mad at the sex. Or even the sharing. Years of putting my body on display for people’s pleasure crashes into me like a tidal wave, and my limbs go slack.

“You used me,” I hiss through my teeth, shoving him off. “You used us both.”

Christian spits out a mouthful of blood. “You knew what this was when we started it, motherfucker.”

“I didn't know shit.”

Arya’s breath catches, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Was? What does that mean?”

He glances at her, his expression softening when he notices how shaken up she is. Getting to his feet, he wraps an arm around her waist and thumbs away the tears on her cheeks. “We’re done with this. No more fucking around with Dev, alright? He's not good for us.”

I laugh bitterly, rubbing my aching jaw as I grimace down at my sad, limp dick still covered in rubber. “You gonna let your girl decide that on her own?”

“She knows what’s best.”

Arya stiffens . “Do I?”

He blinks, opening his mouth to answer, but whatever he was about to say dies in his throat when she speaks again.

“Because right now, Devvy's right. You’re talking for me. Again.”