My heat recedes temporarily, sated by their combined efforts, giving me a moment of clarity. I’m struck by how naturally they worked together, these two men who days ago could barely be in the same room without sniping at each other. For me, they found harmony. For me, they set aside their Alpha rivalry and became something more powerful together than apart.
The realization makes my chest tighten with emotion I’m not ready to name. Instead, I close my eyes, savoring the feel of them surrounding me, filling me, claiming me not as individuals but as a unit.
And as my heat begins to stir again, I find myself turning my gaze where Miles holds himself apart, watching with those intense blue eyes, waiting for his turn to join our unexpected harmony.
My breath comesin shallow pants as Miles approaches the bed, his blue eyes nearly black with desire, his usual composeddemeanor transformed by something primal and hungry. Unlike Adrian’s measured control or Caleb’s playful enthusiasm, Miles radiates quiet intensity—watchful, patient, until the moment he decides to act. That moment, I realize as he reaches for me with purpose, is now.
“On your stomach,” he instructs, his deep voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “Knees and elbows.”
The command sends a fresh wave of slick heat between my thighs. I comply immediately, my body moving before my mind can process the shift in dynamic. Miles has been the most reserved of the three, his care manifesting in practical solutions and quiet observation.
Now, that careful restraint has given way to something more dominant, more demanding.
I position myself as instructed, feeling oddly vulnerable yet impossibly aroused as I present myself to him. My body aches pleasantly from Adrian and Caleb’s attention, but my heat continues to pulse insistently, demanding more. Miles’s hands find my hips, his touch firm and sure as he positions me exactly as he wants.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, one hand sliding appreciatively over the curve of my ass. “Perfect.”
The praise, delivered in his matter-of-fact tone, affects me more powerfully than flowery compliments could. Miles doesn’t exaggerate or embellish—he states facts as he sees them. If he says I’m perfect, he means it exactly as stated.
His hand moves to the nape of my neck, pressing me down slightly, establishing his control. The pressure sends something primal racing through my system—not fear, but surrender.Trust. With Miles’s hand anchoring me, I feel paradoxically free, released from the burden of control I’ve carried my entire professional life.
“You’re already well-prepared,” he observes, his free hand exploring the evidence of Adrian and Caleb’s attentions. “Wet and open. Ready for me.”
I feel the blunt pressure of his cock against my entrance, thicker than even I expected from his large frame. He pushes forward in one smooth, relentless thrust that has me gasping into the sheets, my fingers curling into the fabric as pleasure-pain radiates through me.
“Fuck,” I breathe, the word barely audible as he fills me completely. No wonder he’s cultivated such control. Needed me ready and hot from Adrian’s and Caleb’s attentions.
“Take a breath,” Miles instructs, his hand steady on my neck as he gives me a moment to adjust. “Relax into it.”
I do as he says, focusing on my breathing as my body accommodates his size. The initial burn fades, replaced by a fullness that satisfies something deep within me.
When he begins to move, it’s with the same efficient precision he brings to everything—each thrust calculated for maximum impact, finding angles that make stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Good,” he praises when I push back against him, meeting his rhythm. He rewards me by burying his fingers into my folds, skimming my clit with just the right pressure to flood my channel with liquid heat. “Very good, Elle.”
The bed dips as Caleb moves into my field of vision, his cock hard again and glistening at the tip. His dark eyes meetmine, questioning despite the obvious desire written across his features.
“Want to taste me, Elle?” he asks, his usual playfulness tempered with genuine care. “Is that what you want?”
In answer, I reach for him, drawing him closer until his cock brushes my lips. I open for him eagerly, taking him into my mouth with a hunger that surprises even me.
He tastes of salt and musk and something uniquely Caleb—like salted caramel with a hint of coffee bitterness, rich and complex.
“Christ,” Caleb groans, his hand coming to rest lightly on my head. “Your mouth, Elle. So fucking perfect.”
Miles increases his pace behind me, each thrust pushing me forward onto Caleb’s cock, creating a rhythm that has me moaning around my mouthful. I’m caught between them, filled from both ends, and the sensation is overwhelming in its completeness.
The mattress shifts again as Adrian joins us, positioning himself beside me. His hand gathers my hair, gently pulling it back from my face, ensuring it doesn’t obstruct my vision or breathing. The gesture is so considerate, so Adrian, that it makes my chest ache even through the haze of pleasure.
“That’s it,” Adrian murmurs, his free hand stroking down my spine. “You’re doing so well, Elle.”
Their praise washes over me like a physical caress, each of them expressing appreciation in their own distinct way—Miles with his straightforward observations, Caleb with his colorful enthusiasm, Adrian with his careful attention to detail. Three different languages of desire, all directed at me.
Miles’s hand tightens slightly on my neck, not restricting my breathing but establishing his dominance as his thrusts become more forceful. The change in pressure sends electricity racing through my system, my inner muscles clenching around him in response.
“You like that,” he observes, not a question but a statement of fact. “The pressure. The control.”
I moan my agreement around Caleb’s cock, unable to form words but desperate to communicate my pleasure. Caleb’s fingers tangle with Adrian’s in my hair, the two of them working together to keep me comfortable as Miles drives into me with increasing intensity.
