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“I’m sure.”

Zander looks at Jarek. “Your turn.”

Of course he’s still giving orders.

Pascal holds my hips and keeps me steady while Zander eases out from under me. Jarek slides in beneath me and lies back where Zander was, and grins up at me.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says.

I laugh.

I sink down onto him slowly. He’s hard and ready, and I’m so wet and sensitive that it drags a gasp out of both of us.

Zander settles on the cushions beside us and pulls me down to kiss him. Then he brushes the hair from my sweaty face and holds my hand.

“Slow,” Zander says. “She’s sensitive.”

“I know,” Jarek and Pascal say at the same time.

They start moving again. Slower this time. Gentler. Jarek rocks up into me, and Pascal moves behind me, and I’m so sensitive that every stroke makes me gasp. It doesn’t take long before the pressure starts building again.

“Oh god,” I moan. “I’m going to come again.”

“Good,” Pascal says. “Let it happen. We’re here to make you feel good.”

Jarek grips my thighs and looks up at me, and his grin is gone. All I see is how much he wants me. “Come on, sweetheart. One more. For me.”

This one is fast and hard. My whole body locks up, and I clench around both of them, and I cry out, and Zander squeezes my hand, and Pascal wraps his arm around my waist.

Pascal comes first. His hips jerk against me, and he presses his forehead between my shoulder blades and groans my name, holding himself deep inside me while he pulses.

Jarek is right behind him. He grips my hips and thrusts up into me once, twice, and his head falls back against the cushions.

“Fuck, Nina,” he groans. “Fuck⁠—”

He comes with a shout that turns into a laugh at the end, breathless and wrecked. I feel him warm inside me.

Then we collapse.

I end up sprawled on Jarek’s chest with Pascal draped over my back, both of them still inside me, all three of us gasping. Zander lies beside us with his hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair.

When Pascal finally eases out of me, he does it slowly, carefully, murmuring that I’m okay, that I did so well. Jarek goes next. I’m shaking all over. Not from cold. From everything.

“Don’t move,” Zander says, already getting up.

“Couldn’t if I tried,” I mumble.

He comes back a few minutes later with two warm, wet washcloths, a towel, and a glass of water. He hands the washcloths to Pascal and the water to me.

“Drink,” Zander says.

I sip. He watches until I’ve had half the glass.

Pascal kneels beside me with the washcloths. “Let me.”

I hesitate. It’s so intimate. More intimate, somehow, than everything we just did.

“Nina,” Pascal says gently. “Let me take care of you.”