“I’m begging—”

He groaned, bending my body until I slotted perfectly in his strong embrace.

I couldn’t ignore his hardness or the way his muscles vibrated with need. In that moment, he was a saint. A man with a tied-up woman rubbing against his body and not using her. My trust layered with respect. He was good. He was kind. He was true.

We both panted as we turned frantic. There was no rhythm anymore—only debasing fake-fucking, rustling sheets, and creaking springs. As much as I despised what tonight represented, I couldn’t help the tiny flutter of desire unfurling thanks to his never-ending coaxing fingers.

Unfounded hurt crept over me.

Jethro hadn’t tried to stop this. He’d run.

But Kestrel had stepped up to protect me. He put his own life on the line.

That’s more than Jethro’s ever done.

My heart twisted in a resentful agonising braid. I didn’t want to sleep with Kes. But in a way…I was almost offended that he had the self-restraint to keep me safe even from him.

I was baffled.

I was endlessly grateful.

He was turned on. He’d admitted he’d wanted me since setting eyes on me…yet he made no move to dip his fingers inside me or try to work his cock anywhere but between my thighs.

The bed rocked with every thrust. My back arched as his fingers turned harder and demanding. For non-sex, it gave the ultimate impression of being ridden and used.

Sickness rolled inside to think of Jethro watching this.

But then anger slapped the nausea away.

He should’ve been the one to stop this. If only he’d given up trying to fit in and realised that he would never be the man his father wanted. If only he could see the truth.

Now, it’s too late.

“Scream,” Kes whispered.

“Fucking, ride my dick, bitch,” he yelled.

“Stop. Oh, my God. Stop!”

My body rocked backward, seeking a release against all rationality. Kes panted in my ear, his cock throbbing and hot between my thighs. I pressed my legs together, giving him friction to rub against.

“Goddammit, don’t do that.” He pulled away, pressing himself against the small of my back. “You’re fucking beautiful.” His fingers worked me harder. “Shit, I wish I could climb inside you for real.”

His words clenched my core. An orgasm I never expected brewed into being.

I moaned as my wrists hurt, being squashed every time Kes thrust.

“I’m losing it,” he muttered. “I need this to end before we both get into trouble.”

His gruff voice attacked my nervous system, sending me into quakes. My body took over; my toes curled with building pleasure.

Kes grasped my wrists, tugging on the sash, arching my back.

He nipped at my throat, running his warm tongue down the top of my spine. His fingers quickened, along with his hips. My thoughts disintegrated as his touch slipped on my clit and found wetness.

“Fuuuuck.” His thrusts turned erratic and savage. His fingers lost uniformity.

I moaned.

I couldn’t help it.

It felt good.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to embrace it.

I wanted to die for who I’d become.

The covers shifted and clung, no doubt making it seem as if Kes took me with nothing barred. My mouth opened to breathe faster. Kes surprised me by sealing his lips completely over mine.

I stiffened.

I didn’t know what to do.

A kiss was somehow even more intimate than the fake-fucking we indulged in. Then his fingers tickled from my clit to entrance. I moaned. I couldn’t decide if it was a beg to stop or permission to keep going.

The fear that any minute he might stop being a gentleman trying to save me and fuck me against my will added the element of danger.

He shuddered as he slipped a fingertip barely inside me.

The taboo. The forbiddenness. The wrongness of what we were doing consumed me.

I couldn’t stop the detonating bliss just like I couldn’t stop my blood from flowing.

I came.

The second my body exploded around his finger, his tongue entered my mouth and I didn’t fight it.

I welcomed it.

For one delicious spiralling moment, I let go of right and wrong. I forgot about Jethro and ignored the messy aftermath.

I gave into pleasure.

Kes pulled me back against him, pleasure and need rumbling in his chest.

My fear completely subsided.

I trusted him.

All this time he’d been there guiding me. Looking after me.

His hand clutched my hip, forcing me to rock against his fingers. His cock branded my back as my core contracted again and again, heaven shooting through my system.

He spooned me harder, his legs entwining with mine. “Shit.”

I let out a cry of ecstasy as my orgasm took me high, high, higher before snipping me free and hurtling me back to earth.

My ears rang. My heartbeat was a noisy jackhammer.

His lips sought mine again and I kissed him back. Our tongues tangled and I catalogued the difference between brothers. Jethro was fierce and controlling. A dominant, mysterious man through and through. Kestrel was eager and ferocious, taking everything with boyish charm. “Fuck, I don’t want to come. I promised myself I. Would. Not. Come.”

I believed him. I understood his decency and I couldn’t thank him enough.

But there was one thing I could do to show him my gratitude.

It was a gift I could give on my own accord.

I forced my hips back, crushing his cock against his stomach. His mouth opened wide; his body jerked as he poured curses down my throat. “Fuck, don’t do that. I’m going—”