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The door slid shut behind Sundira with a gentle click.
Zaylia, dressed in naught but a lovely ornate robe and lounging on her chaise, regarded Sundira with hungry eyes. "You didn't forget about us... Did you?"
"That," a low voice said in his ear as strong arms wrapped around his waist to draw him back against a firm chest, "would be very rude of you."
He'd thought he felt a heated gaze upon his back; he was almost surprised he'd made it this far away from the door without Soriel pinning him against it.
He couldn't blame his lovers for their theatrical seductions. It'd been too long since they had last been together.
"As if anything—ah!" A bite against his throat made Sundira gasp, then tilt his head to the side to give Soriel room for more. "As if anything about either of you is forgettable."
"Such a flatterer!" Zaylia cooed as she watched Soriel kiss along Sundira's neck, her hands idly pushing her robe further down her elegant shoulders. "Bring Sunsun to bed, won't you, dear one? I want to find out if he still remembers what it means to be ours."