Aidan picked up where the other man left off. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he said gruffly. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. If this is about wanting to feel desirable, then you’ve already got your answer.”

A little smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “Actually, this is about me wanting to be worshipped.”

Aidan exchanged a look with Dylan, who seemed equally apprehensive. Neither of them wanted her to do something she truly didn’t feel comfortable doing.

“You said that’s what I deserved, right?” Raising a brow, she glanced at each of them in challenge.

“Yes,” Dylan said.

“Then prove it, because if I ever needed to be worshipped, it’s right now.”

Without waiting for an answer, she began walking away, drawing both their gazes to her perfect ass. She halted when she was halfway to the corridor, reached around to unhook her bra, then tossed the lacy garment in their direction.

Keeping her back to them, she peeked over her shoulder with a coy smile. “You boys coming, or what?”

They exchanged another look.

And then they dove off the couch and raced after her.

Claire’s heart was beating perilously fast as she entered Aidan’s bedroom. Her hands shook with both excitement and nervousness, but she tried not to focus on the latter. Because she wanted this.

God, she really, really wanted this.

And it had nothing to do with the discovery that Chris had brought another woman on what should have been their honeymoon. She didn’t have feelings for Chris anymore, at least not this latest version of him. Or rather, the man he’d been all along but she’d been too blind to see it. The Chris who wanted to work in the prosecutor’s office and who liked taking her dancing didn’t exist. The real Chris didn’t deserve her, and he’d played no role in her decision to give in to Dylan and Aidan.

She couldn’t avoid the truth any longer—she had feelings for them both. She desired them both.

And she wanted both of them to f**k her.

The two men walked into the room without a word. She’d left the light off, and neither man made a move to flick the switch. They just stood there in the darkness, shadows dancing on their respectively handsome faces, making this entire encounter feel so very dirty.

It was Dylan who spoke first. “Get on the bed, Claire.”

A dark thrill shot through her. She climbed onto the mattress of Aidan’s king-sized bed and lay down on her back, resting her head on the mound of pillows leaning on the headboard.

Aidan turned on the light, dimming it to a sexy, erotic glow, and then the two men approached with slow, methodical strides. Predatory, almost.

Claire’s pulse raced as they started to undress. Their shirts came off first, exposing bare chests heavy with muscle, gleaming abs, powerful arms.

The pants were next, the material hitting the hardwood floor with a soft rustle.

Dylan wore nothing underneath. His erection rose to full salute, making her mouth water.

Aidan pushed his white boxers down his hips, and Claire got her first view of his cock. Longer than Dylan’s, but not as thick. Now her mouth went bone-dry.

Hot male gazes roamed her body, which was stretched out on the bed for them like a sacrificial offering, but rather than take what she was freely giving, they turned to look at each other. And then they kissed.

Claire’s panties flooded with moisture. Oh Lord. She would never get used to the sight of them doing that. Their mouths locked together, tongues teasing and exploring. She gasped when Aidan cupped Dylan’s ass and yanked the other man closer, grinding his c**k against Dylan’s.

The kiss lasted for several more seconds, then broke off abruptly, and the next thing she knew, Aidan was sitting next to her on the bed. She squeaked in surprise when he tore her panties off her body. The fabric ripped with a hiss and was tossed aside, leaving her completely exposed to his hungry brown eyes.

“I’ve been dreaming about this pu**y for more than a week,” he said in a serious tone. “Dylan has informed me that you taste like heaven.”

Still standing by the bed, Dylan nodded earnestly. “She does, man. Makes the sexiest sounds when she comes too.”

“Spread your legs wider,” Aidan ordered.

She parted her thighs, anticipation coiling inside her like a rattlesnake. She wanted his mouth on her, but he was taking his sweet time giving it to her.

Licking his lips, Aidan brought his hand between her legs and stroked her with the tip of his index finger.

She shuddered, wanting more. Needing more.

That finger skimmed down to her opening and swirled around in the moisture pooled there.

“So wet. Fuck. I need a taste.” He promptly lowered his head and lapped her up his with tongue.

Claire’s hips shot off the bed. “Oh, that’s good, Aidan.”

“Only gonna get better, baby.”

He wasn’t lying. Once he got going, she turned into a puddle of mindless, quivering lust. His tongue probed her—long, thorough licks that made her moan. Pinpricks of pleasure rose on her skin, and she rocked her hips to meet his greedy tongue, every muscle in her body quivering, tightening, throbbing.

She caught a flicker of movement and realized Dylan was jerking himself off. His green eyes burned, lips slightly parted as he watched the other man go down on her.

“How does she taste, bro?” he murmured.

Aidan raised his head and licked his lips, which were glossy with her juices. “So f**king sweet.” Then he resumed his feasting, shoving a finger into her tight sheath as he sucked on her clit with fervor.