Their Captivated Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 3)

"Lightning," I mumbled.

Rhys rolled me onto my back so I had three men looming over me, their gazes raking over my body. I could only imagine how slaked and well used I looked and I didn't mind at all.

Rhys' dark eyes held mine as a bright streak of it slashed across the sky, followed a few seconds later with a clap of thunder. "Lightning," he repeated.

I grinned, for he was right. It was as if it was all meant to be.

"Nay, just lightning. Love, too," Simon said, his dark, intense eyes roving over my body then meeting mine. "It's love."

Cross agreed. "Lightning and love."

They were correct. It was lightning and love.