“I—”
“The door was open, Ginny.”
She blinked at how he said those words. Like it just was, and she should have realized that a long time ago. She didn’t think he was talking only about the bedroom door, either. She only had to consider it, and this last month with the three of them living in the same place.
Rarely did they close doors.
In any room.
Alessio and Corrado didn’t tamper their tones when they spoke, either. It didn’t matter if they were talking about the weather while running on the treadmill or shouting at one another in the office like they had when Alessio first came back.
The doors didn’t get closed.
They let her hear everything.
She saw everything.
Her gaze lifted to meet Alessio’s, and there, she found a raging blue storm staring at her, but in the middle of it all, she found truth. They’d purposely done that—never once had they hid themselves, their baggage, or the rest. To her, they stayed way open.
Alessio, too, she now realized. Even when he had been so mad, closed off, keeping that distance, and dealing with his own mountain of problems, he’d not shut her out physically. It was disconcerting.
Because she liked that.
And it terrified her, too.
“Ginevra,” he murmured.
Still staring at him, she swallowed the nerves in her throat, saying, “I still shouldn’t have done it. I ... you didn’t invite me to do that.”
Right?
She didn’t think so.
It didn’t matter she liked it, or they left their door open like they had a silent understanding between the three of them that she only now realized ... that was them, and their private moment together.
“I didn’t feel like an intruder, but I still think I intruded.”
Alessio shook his head. “Not at all, sweetheart. That’s one thing you couldn’t do with us, but especially not when we’re fucking. Do you hear me?”
God.
That heat climbed in her cheeks again, and shot right down to her pussy, too. It was easier to admire the grain in the wood floor than his handsome face, so she did that. His words shouldn’t have sounded as sinful and inviting as they did, and somehow ... he still pulled it off.
“You know,” she said, her nervous energy falling out in fast words, “before you two, I used to say I was open about sex, and what people liked, or ... all of that. Someone else’s bedroom was theirs, and it’s fine.”
“And now?”
“I still think that, I just didn’t consider it would be my bedroom someday, either.”
Alessio chuckled. “Ginevra, look at me.”
When she didn’t do what he wanted right away, his left hand shot up to catch her under the jaw. A simple tilt of his hand, and she was staring into his eyes again, frozen in place by the intensity she found there.
“It’s okay to be overwhelmed and confused,” he said, shrugging one bare shoulder, “but never hide when you want it, too. That’s the only way you can find out if what you want is worth it.”
“Oh, that I don’t doubt.”
He raised a brow. “Hmm?”
“That this will be worth it.”
It was the aftermath that made her wonder, but even then, she would brave it for them. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what life would be like after these men had come into hers to change it irrevocably.
“Did you see me go in last night?” he asked.
Ginevra shook her head. “I woke up during ...”
The memory flashed in her mind, thick and heady. Part of it hadn’t seemed real, and yet, every inch of her body knew it was vivid and true.
Corrado had put Alessio on his knees, a hand tangled into his hair, and the other wrapped around his chest to keep the man suspended higher off the bed as he fucked him from behind. Their voices, their sounds, all came out husky. And even as it seemed like one had more control than the other, she found power in Alessio, too. In the way his body moved, how his hands tugging and grabbed to Corrado, seeking what he wanted.
She’d blinked, stunned at what she was seeing, and after they had rolled over, Alessio’s back against the headboard, and Corrado was above him. They stayed close, movements frantic, and beauty covering every action between them.
And their fucking?
She found it familiar. Or rather, she recognized it was familiar to them. So rough, and vicious, yet she found affection in between, too. Maybe that was what had drawn her in the most ...
“There’s always affection,” Alessio said.
Ginevra flew from her thoughts in a bang, her stare still locked on Alessio’s, although she had been seeing him differently just moments ago inside her mind. Now, she found something hotter staring back at her, not that the night before, she would have thought anything would be more wickedly tempting than seeing those two men fuck.
Now, she’d say it was the way Alessio was looking at her. A lot similar to the way Corrado did when he had her pinned under him, making her beg and scream in all the best fucking ways.
“Intense, and beautiful,” she said, her voice a breath, “that’s what it was.”
Alessio’s gaze blazed with lust. “Was it?”
“I wondered ...”
“Tell me.”
“Does he fuck me the same way he fucks you—will you?” Ginevra dragged in a hard inhale, letting the air ache in her lungs at the thought. “Would either of you ever be able to love me the way you love each other?”
Alessio never blinked.
Didn’t breathe.
“And how do we fuck—and love—each other, Ginny?”
“Savagely,” she whispered.
It was true.
They hurt each other loving. Survived from it, killed with it, or become better for it. Was that not the most primal aspects of being human? Of loving as a human? And so, it seemed appropriate to say at their most base of being, in their moments of rawest need, they savagely loved.
“Savagely,” Alessio echoed.
Ginevra nodded. “And I don’t know if I could ever be the same to—”
“You only have to say yes.”
“What?”
“Say yes.” His hand on her thigh squeezed, making her all too aware of how close his fingers were to the tiny cotton shorts she wore to bed. The matching top rested higher above her navel, and she had on nothing underneath. There was no hiding the way her nipples had pebbled under the thin top, or the way her throat jumped when her gaze darted down to his mouth.
Not that her staring stopped there. She had never gotten the chance to admire Alessio without a shirt. He even worked out with one on, and he didn’t leave a bathroom unless he was fully dressed after a shower, not that it mattered because he had a private bath in his room.
But now ...
Now, she admired the strong muscles that made up the man’s chest, and the hard lines that showcased his abs, and the way his pants rested low on his defined hips. He seemed chiseled from stone, a lot like Corrado. She’d watched him and Corrado put the gym to use day after day enough, so she knew why they looked like they did, too.
She took in his tattoos, the double sleeves, and the start of the chest tattoo that showcased a crowned heart. Corrado hadn’t been lying, either. Straight bars pierced through both his nipples. They were opposites in that way. One showcasing his calm strength in a body that was uninked and unmarked in other ways. And the other taunted the world with his wildness through colorful designs, and piercings.