Caleb joins our circle, champagne in hand, his usual charming grin firmly in place though his eyes remain serious. “Deal’s signed,” he announces. “The collaborative approach impressed them.”
“The numbers were solid,” I acknowledge. “Your distribution projections complemented Adrian’s implementation timeline.”
“Who would’ve thought?” Caleb laughs, but there’s genuine wonder beneath the surface humor. “The three of us working together instead of trying to outmaneuver each other.”
“Efficiency,” Adrian states simply. “Combined resources yield better results.”
Elle’s lips twitch, amusement flickering across her features at Adrian’s characteristic reduction of our complex situation to pragmatic terms. I find myself fighting a similar reaction. Our newfound ability to cooperate professionally may have practical benefits, but we all know the catalyst was anything but practical.
As the evening progresses, my mind drifts to the night before—specifically, to Elle in the hotel suite’s oversized shower, water cascading over her golden skin as she stood with her back pressed against the tile wall, her dark hair slick and heavy against her shoulders. The memory hits me with physical force, my body responding immediately.
She had been insatiable that night, despite her heat having passed days ago. Adrian and Caleb had already taken their turns with her, filling her with their release until she was dripping with it, their combined scents marking her in the most primal way. But she’d wanted more. Needed more. And I’d been there, ready to give her exactly what she craved.
“Miles,” she’d whispered, her voice rough with desire as steam billowed around us. “I need your mouth. Please.”
I’d dropped to my knees without hesitation, hands gripping her thighs as I spread her wide, exposing her to my hungry gaze. She’d been a beautiful mess—swollen and red and glistening with her own arousal mixed with Adrian and Caleb’s cum. The sight had made something primal roar to life inside me,a possessive hunger that demanded I claim her even more thoroughly than they had.
My tongue had slid through her folds, gathering the combined taste of all four of us together. I’d groaned against her flesh, the vibration making her gasp and clutch at my hair. She tasted like heaven—sweet and tangy and musky all at once, the most addictive flavor I’d ever experienced.
I’d worshipped her with my mouth, licking deep into her, French-kissing her cunt like a man starved. My tongue sought out every drop of pleasure, slithering into her hole and then flattening against her clit in alternating patterns that had her legs trembling. Her hands had fisted in my hair, holding me against her as she ground herself against my face, desperate and demanding in a way that only heightened my desire to please her.
“Yes, yes, fuck, Miles, right there,” she’d chanted, her usual composure shattered as I sucked her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue while two fingers pumped inside her. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
I’d driven her to the edge and over it, again and again, until she was sobbing with pleasure, her body convulsing around my fingers, against my tongue. Only then had I risen to my feet, lifting her with ease and pinning her against the shower wall. She’d wrapped her legs around my waist, eager and willing as I pushed inside her in one smooth thrust.
The tight, wet heat of her had nearly undone me immediately. She’d been so well-used by the others, yet still impossibly tight around me. I’d fucked her with measured control at first, each thrust deliberate and deep, angling to hit the spot inside her that made her cry out my name like a prayer.
As her pleasure built again, I’d felt my knot beginning to swell—something that hadn’t happened with either Adrian or Caleb, their bodies spent from multiple rounds. But I’d been saving myself, waiting, wanting to give her this final, most intimate connection. The pride I’d felt when she’d gasped, feeling the first press of my knot against her entrance, had been overwhelming.
“Yes,” she’d breathed, eyes wide and locked on mine. “Knot me, Miles. Please. I want to feel you lock inside me.”
I’d pressed forward, watching her face as my knot stretched her, slipping past that tight ring of muscle to lodge deep inside. The sensation of her body gripping me, holding me, had been transcendent. We’d stayed joined as I pulsed inside her, filling her with my release, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
The memory fades as Caleb says something that makes Elle laugh, the sound pulling me back to the present. I watch her, cataloging the subtle ways she’s changed since that first night in the villa. She stands taller, more confident. Her professional armor remains intact, but beneath it, she glows with a certainty that wasn’t there before.
I haven’t told her yet—haven’t told any of them—but I have no intention of returning to our previous dynamic. The thought of stepping back, of pretending the storm and what followed never happened, is unacceptable. I want to remain in her orbit permanently. I want to continue sharing her with Adrian and Caleb, this unexpected harmony we’ve discovered together.
As if sensing my thoughts, Elle looks up, her dark eyes finding mine across the room. A small smile touches her lips, private and knowing. I don’t smile back—not visibly—but I hold hergaze, letting her see the intensity of my focus, the certainty of my intent.
We’re not rivals anymore, Adrian, Caleb, and I. We’re hers. And I, for one, have no plans to change that arrangement.
***
Morning light filters through half-drawn curtains, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets of the hotel suite’s king-sized bed. Elle sleeps between us, her body curled toward Adrian, one hand stretched back to maintain contact with Caleb’s arm, her foot hooked around my ankle. Even unconscious, she keeps us connected, anchors us to each other through her.
I watch her breathe, cataloging the peaceful rhythm, the slight parting of her lips, the way her features soften in sleep. Professional Elle Park, always composed and controlled, dissolves in these private moments, revealing the woman beneath the armor.
Caleb stirs first, his eyes opening to meet mine across Elle’s sleeping form. No words are necessary as understanding passes between us—we’re skipping the summit’s final networking sessions, claiming this morning for ourselves instead. The silent communication feels natural now, this wordless coordination that developed first around Elle’s heat and has since extended to every aspect of our unusual arrangement.
Adrian wakes next, his transition from sleep to alertness immediate and complete as always. His hand moves to Elle’s hair, stroking gently, the gesture tender in a way I never would have associated with him before the storm. Elle responds to his touch even in sleep, pressing closer, a small sound of contentment escaping her throat.
Her eyes open slowly, focusing first on Adrian, then turning to find Caleb, finally shifting to meet my gaze. The smile that spreads across her face holds none of her usual professional reserve—it’s open, warm, almost shy in its genuine pleasure at finding herself surrounded by us.
“Good morning,” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep. “What time is it?”
“Early enough,” I reply, my hand finding her ankle, thumb stroking the delicate bone there. “The car won’t be here until noon.”
Caleb’s arm slides around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. “Plenty of time,” he says, lips brushing her shoulder.
