Midir's fingers buried in her hair as she moved, taking him in, teasing over his shaft with her tongue. He held her there, hips starting a rhythm in counterpoint to Sam's as he met the other man's eyes.

She moaned at the sensation of being filled, both of them wanting so, tasting and feeling and moving first one way, then the other, finding and losing and dividing self until she was trembling on the edge and didn't care how far she fell.