I couldn’t stop thinking about their hands.

Their mouths.

The way they stopped right when I needed more.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing, wet-panty days.

And none of them touched me again.

Not a word. Not a whisper. Not even a lingering glance.

They’d turned the game back on me. And it was working.

Because I was slowly going insane.

I’d never begged a man before in my life. I swore I never would.

But with them—those men—my body was betraying ...