It’s nothing like I expected it to be. There’s no greed here among them. When Tristian lifts his head, Rath lets me go so Tristian can take my mouth. When Tristian tears away, he buries his face in my throat and sends me back to Rath’s waiting tongue. It’s sweltering and slippery and too crowded, and I can barely breathe with the way they’re passing my gasps back and forth. It’s almost too much to feel—to give—to take.
