Taking him deeper, my own arousal flares beneath the surface. I feel myself growing wetter, the cool air brushing against my cunt. Knowing they’re watching and that they can see everything drives my desire to a new high. I’m drunk on it, rolling my hips in mid-air and putting more gusto into the blowjob than possibly ever before.
A hand brushes a few fallen strands of hair from my face, and I blink up to see Axel stroking my face. He feels my cheek hollow, his hand doing an exploration of its own to feel Garrett’s cock bobbing in and out of my throat. When Garrett’s eyes open to watch, they’re blown wide with lust, his cheeks twinged pink and his hands fisting in the sheets.
“Careful, Gare. You don’t want to finish straight away. That would be embarrassing,” I smirk against his shaft. Laughter rumbles from Garrett’s chest.
“I’ll come after you, Peach.” On cue, hands caress my ass, fingers skimming over my wetness. I didn’t hear anyone move, but when I try to look back, Axel keeps his hold on my face.
“No one told you to stop,” he grins. With his encouragement, I take Garrett back into my mouth, distracted this time by the sensations running up the back of my thighs. My asscheeks are pried apart, the cold air hitting me more directly. Fingers roll over my clit and my hips in too many places to only belong to one person.
I can’t stop the moan that vibrates around Garrett’s shaft when fingers trace through my wetness, dipping closer to my center with unbearable slowness. The sensation sends a shiver up my spine, my entire body responding to their touch, my knees digging into the cheap motel bedding as I try to focus on the weight of Garrett in my mouth.
Garrett curses above me, his hips jerking slightly. I smirk aroundhim, taking him deeper until he’s nudging the back of my throat, swallowing around his length just to hear the sharp breath he sucks in. A second set of fingers joins the first, spreading me open and teasing the slick entrance of my cunt.
“Fuck,” I whimper, the sound muffled around Garrett’s cock, my thighs trembling. I hear a chuckle from behind me, warm hands gripping my hips, steadying me.
“You like this, Swan.” Huxley’s voice is low and smooth. It's not posed as a question because he already knows the answer. He can feel how my body is responding as my arousal coats his fingers. Axel hums from where he still cradles my cheek, brushing his thumb just under my eye, his touch gentle in contrast to the intensity coiling between my legs.
“She loves having all of our attention. Don’t you, sweetheart?” I nod around Garrett, my answer too muffled. I hollow my cheeks again, drawing a groan from Garrett, and the praise only fuels me. His hands grip my hair, his restraint slipping.
Huxley chuckles, and suddenly, I feel the press of a finger as someone pushes inside me. A gasp leaves me, my body jolting, and Garrett groans as the movement pulls against his cock.
“Keep going,” Axel reminds me, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip, smearing saliva and precum in its wake. The finger inside me curls, stretching me deliberately as another joins, then quickly a third. I buck and groan, my eyes falling closed. I’m vaguely aware that Axel’s hold on my chin and Garrett’s grip on my hair are keeping my head bopping up and down, but my entire focus is on my own pleasure.
A slow drag, a quickened pace, a twisting motion. A disjointed rhythm I can’t predict. I’m pulled in all directions, my hips tilted upward. I can’t get enough, but I can’t relax into it either. Each thrust catches me off guard, my moans growing louder around Garrett, my movements more sluggish. As my brain is trying to envision who is fingering me so expertly, yet unpredictably, I suddenly go still as the perfect image slams into place.
It’s all three of them. Hux, Dax, and Wyatt standing shoulder to shoulder, pumping into me with individual pace and skill. Realizing I’ve stalled on Garrett’s dick, a sharp spank is delivered to my ass.
“Be good for us, Angel,” Wyatt warns. The nickname makes my stomach twist with heat, a needy whimper escaping as I take Garretteven deeper, eager to chase the praise, to feel him unravel under my touch, just like they’re doing to me. Someone presses against that sensitive spot as if I’ve given them a map of how to find it, and I know I’m about to break.
My skin feels tight under the weight of their attention, my body temperature soaring. I’m too hot, too sensitive to the fingers fucking my cunt. The feel of Garrett’s cock pulsing on my tongue, the stretch of fingers inside me, the way Axel is watching me like I’m the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen. All I know is that I’m drowning in them—in their touch, their voices, their control. And even though I know I’m a goner, I refuse to go down alone.
I let my tongue swirl around the tip of his cock before sinking down again, swallowing him as deep as I can. “Holy shit, Peach. You do that so well.” Garrett’s head thumps against the headboard, his body tightening beneath the white tee. I’m right there with him. When the first spurt of warm cum floods my mouth, my body retaliates.
I'm hit with a shockwave of pleasure so intense it steals the air from my lungs. My thighs quake, my body tightening around the fingers buried deep inside me as my orgasm slams into me. A cry rips from my throat, muffled around Garrett’s cock as I tremble, my muscles locking, fire scorching through my veins.
“Fuck, she’s squeezing us,” Hux groans, another hand smoothing down the curve of my spine. “So goddamn tight.” Their pace doesn’t falter as they drag out every pulse, every shuddering aftershock. Axel strokes my cheek and jaw, murmuring praise to Garrett and me. The latter pumps into me, and I swallow greedily, taking everything Garrett has to offer. For all of us, this was a distraction, and we succeeded.
Once the tremors subside, I finally drop into the nearest vacant bed, exhaustion claiming me almost instantly. My legs are moved, the cover drawn back, and a body slips in behind me. I’d guess Huxley from the tickle of his long hair and the firmness of his muscled chest.
A scraping sound brings the next bed closer, and through cracked eyelids, I watch Wyatt strip down to his boxers and lie in front of me. I force myself to wake, wanting to memorize his expression. Devoid of sternness, he stares at me so openly that I must remind myself it hasn’t always been this easy. To lie together and simply be.
Dax must be the one to turn off the light and plunge us intodarkness, save for the red motel sign outside. Still, Wyatt watches me closely until I can no longer stay awake. I jerkily reach out, placing my hand on his chest just before I slip under, his warmth anchoring me to the shitty motel room that I wouldn’t change for the world. Because that’s where my men are, and that’s where we will finally be able to bring Meg when she’s saved.
Those eyes follow me into my dreams. A green Siren, neither guiding me home nor drawing me into danger. It’s as if my mind can’t decipher that last lingering look. The need to memorize my face, the silent apology I was too tired to acknowledge. Subconsciously, I seem to know something isn’t quite right.
For that reason, when I wake many, many hours later to find a folded piece of paper on my pillow, I’m not even surprised. I’m more disappointed when I sit up to see Axel sobbing into Huxley’s neck and Dax standing by the window, picking at his lip, because Garrett has decided to leave us behind too.
Chapter Thirty Nine
My Dearest Avery,
You’ve probably already figured out that I never intended to take you with me. That the promises I made to you were false, and that I knew any chance of a future for us was a myth. We are victims. Brought together by fate and torn apart by circumstance. I take the blame for pushing you away yet pulling you close. For holding you to a standard that I wasn’t able to match. Among it all, something is blaring clear. We never stood a chance.
Through the years, I’ve penned hundreds of these letters, written thousands of words never meant to reach your eyes. But none of them matter more than the paper you now hold in your hands. I owe you so many apologies, and it’s long overdue that you received them.
I’m sorry for loving you. None of this would have happened if I hadn't. I could have stayed at the manor all these years; I could have been a protector and a companion to you. I could have spoken with Cathy more, understood her secrets, and prevented her death. I could have reasoned with Nixon on how best to keep both you and Meg safe. If it hadn’t beenfor avoiding these feelings I have never dealt with, everything would have been so much easier.
I’m sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through, for the friendships I’ve severed, and for putting Meg at risk. It’s no consolation, but at least in the very end, I did try to put things right. I needed a plan that didn’t involve you putting yourself in danger. I had to know that you were strong enough to hold the Souls together. I’ve spent my time with each one of them, ensuring they are the best versions of themselves for you, just like you wanted. It’s the least you deserve after a life of neglect and heartache.
