When we finally pulled away, she was a limp, beautiful ruin. I jerked the vibrator out of her ass—the sudden absence of it making her sob—and Asher didn't give her a second to breathe. He hauled her up by her underarms, her legs dragging on the floor as he carried her toward the X-frame in the corner.

We hoisted her up, stretching her limbs wide and shackling her wrists and ankles to the cold steel. She hung there, a pagan goddess of sin, her body a map of red welts, bite marks, and the drying, sticky evidence of all six of us.