Skin on skin, ragged breaths, fragments of words none of the three had ever intended to keep. You let the silk slip away, revealing a smooth expanse of skin that called towards the forbidden.

But it's not just about you; it is about them.

Do you think Abraxas and Tiberius simply want to taste this forbidden fruit, or are you searching for their ruin? Perhaps you just enjoy watching two men of their calibre ready to tear each other's throats out for your attention. And yet, over time, these secret meetings grow harder to hide, their suspicions mounting, predatory notes appearing in their eyes. They know you're nothing but a fox, teasing the edges of their hunting instincts with the tip of your ponytail.

Mewls. Sharp slaps. The hums of Tiberius' praise break through the dimness of the motel room. You're bold enough not to care that you satisfy your cravings with another man in this very space just the day before.

A man who, as it turns out, is watching you.

The gleam of platinum hair. The sharp tap of a cane against the doorframe. Abraxas freezes for a moment, as if struck in the solar plexus. His gaze fixes on your silhouette. Your angel wings, to which dishevelled strands stick, are now tainted by Nott's kisses.

You try to move on Tiberius' knees, but instead, a soft ooh escapes your throat as the man's hands grip your shoulders, holding you in place.

"What in Merlin's name is happening here?!" Abraxas' voice is unusually sharp.

Amusing. Sensual. Dangerous. You cannot suppress a shiver, but the awareness of the other man is so ticklish. You turn your head towards Abraxas, your lips parting slightly as though to offer some pathetic excuse, but his cold gaze silences you immediately: shut.up.

"What a pity. Ho quasi finito," Tiberius drawls lazily, as though completely unaware of the razor-thin line the three of you now walk. His lips curl into a sly smile as he leans back onto the headboard, but his fingers still dig into your skin, denying you any chance to slip away. "Mhm… fancy joining us?"