Everywhere they touch is on fire. My blood scorches and my toes curl. The same desperate noises leaving their mouths leave mine, whining for more.

I can't speak. I can only feel. Relentless, Chris and Charlie take what I offer and more.

"Fuck..." Chris seals his mouth to mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth as his hand cups my breast. "You're going to make me come."

Gasping, I free my mouth from his as Charlie yanks me upward. His mouth meets mine a second later. I'm at the edge, tittering on a familiar precipice. Before I can warn them, my orgasm strikes me like lightning.

Clumsily, I stutter their names and sink my hands around Chris' waist. He anchors me to him, dragging me to him one last time before he comes. Charlie follows his lead, stretching me open to take his cock to the hilt.

"Where's all those tough words you were saying earlier?"

I roll my eyes. "Ass."

His tongue climbs my throat as we catch our breath. Sprawling on Chris' lap, I'm unable to fully move. My system shudders to life in a snap, but the readings are hazy.

Our link flickers. Satisfaction. One word describes so much.

As Charlie pulls out, I shudder. It's enough to bring me to the edge a second time. Frowning at him, I gingerly lift off of Chris and fall on my back at his side.

A deliciously wicked smile is on both their faces.

"How are you still hard?"

Chris smirks, sitting up. "It's you."

"Me?" I sit up. "I did my job."

"That was one round. We aren't done." He slides to the end of the bed and kicks his legs off to stand. "You know better than that, B."

"I—you—"

I can't form words at this point. They want more? How?

"I'm exhausted."

Charlie grasps my leg and yanks me down the sheets. I'm spread out before him like a feast, legs open and welcoming him. "Luckily for us both, you're built for this."

"Where are you going?" I call as Chris moves toward the bathroom.

"I'm going to shower and then I'm going to fuck your ass."

My poor ass...

He leaves me alone with a grinning Charlie Hendrix. Hanging above me like a storm cloud, he blocks out the light. Despite their similar eye and hair color, Chris and Charlie couldn't be more different.

Charlie, with his witty comebacks and biting sarcasm, he's the complete opposite of Chris. The man in charge is a brooder and I often wonder what he has going on in his head. One day, I hope I can read him with a single look.

"Ready for round two, Princess?" He asks, flipping me onto my stomach. I'm surprised when he pulls my cheeks apart and slips his cock against my anus. "I'm going to be spending lots of time here."

The next morning, Michael finds me sitting on a donut in my lab.

There are bruises all over me. On my neck, chest, arms, legs and I even found two on my feet. Everything hurts and when I speak, my jaw creaks like Chris' bed.

Well... how it used to creak. Damn thing broke when they sandwiched me the second time. Did they stop fucking me? Of course not.

We simply changed positions and kept going.

By the time we finished, I was seeing double, and my throat was raw.

"Rough night?" Michael asks, a kind smile lighting up his handsome face. His green eyes trace my shoulders and back upward, focusing on my face in concern. "Were we attacked?"

I choke. "No. Just a long night... uhhh... researching."

"Oh," his eyes shoot up so high they nearly touch his hairline. "New project?"

"Yeah."

It's technically true. There is a new project, and I was researching...

Well, they were researching the best way to make me orgasm. Despite his bed being destroyed, Chris still brought out the chains to keep my legs spread while they fucked me senseless. My ankles have rings around them, but they don't hurt.

"Anything I'd want to learn?"

Did he just—? Wide-eyed, I glance away from his probing gaze and find the shiny steel surface of my lab table. I'm unsure of how to answer the question.

"Blue?" His head tilts. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. No." I awkwardly clear my throat. "It was me. Just... have a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, it looks like it."

He motions to the math displayed above our heads. There are two separate equations being solved. One in red and the other in yellow.

I stare at the figures, hoping my solution was correct. Iris runs it behind me, ensuring my math is correct and finding other solutions. My brain barely works, and I'm hankering for a nap, but I don't dare go near a bed.

If Charlie finds me near a bed, I'm not sure I'll get any work done today. Especially since I intentionally woke up before him and Chris to suck them off. Chris repaid the favor, but I escaped the room before Charlie could.

The dark look in his eyes sent me scrambling to get dressed and to the lab before he could catch me. Though, his threat to come collect hangs over my head. He'll come after me and make sure I come for him.

"Did you hear that?"

I pause, glancing at Michael. "Hear what?"

He turns toward the hall and signals me to wait, but I don't have to for long. Soft footsteps echo in the silence. Chris and Charlie would have no reason to sneak, and when they do, they're nearly undetectable.

This... was something else—someone else.

"Stay here."

Stay here? Confused, I stand. I need to stay here?

It would be better if he stayed here. He's not the bulletproof one, I am. He's not the one who can anticipate the actions of others, I am.

My objection makes it to the tip of my tongue, waiting to be spilled. I'm lucky enough to keep those words to myself. If I tell him what Chris, Charlie and I are now, he may scream and run for the hills and I don't want him to leave.

I like Michael—far more than I should.

He takes the gun out of the holster at his back and checks the safety. It clicks as he disables it and closes his right palm around it. Then, he moves into the hallway.

Second crawl by at a glacial pace. One minute, two, and five blurs into nearly ten. The footsteps don't relent.

Curious, I move to the door and peek out as six shots ring out. Skidding to find the origin, my body slices through the thicket of raining bullets until I track down Michael. He's locked in a brutal fistfight with a masked intruder.

More pour in like an eruption. They line up in the corridor, guns lifted and eyes focused on me.

"On your knees, Doctor Hawthorne."

"And who are you?" I ask, ignoring his demand. "Batman?"

"You can get on your knees or I can shoot your guard." The man who spoke aims at Michael. He's tussling with the other assailant and strategically places his attacker between him and the gun. "It's simple."

"No," I shake my head. "You wish it was."

As he responds, I launch myself at him and let my system to the talking for me.

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