“Gabe, please, please give me more.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, trembling between a plea and a command.
He answered with a sound that was more animalistic than I’d ever heard. His control was frayed; I could feel it in the tremor of his muscles, in the way he forced himself to move slowly when every instinct of his likely screamed to give more. My fingers dragged up his back, nails catching against his skin.
He shuddered at my claiming marks, a low curse rumbling through his chest as he whispered, “Fuck, Little Star. I don’t want to hurt you. Not after everything.”
Everything started to rush back and I quickly slammed the door to the memories. It was time to move forward and make new ones.
“Please,” I gasped, voice raspy and low. “I need you, Gabe. I need you tofuckme.”
And I absolutely got what I asked for.
Gabe moved mercilessly. Each thrust was a claiming, a shuddering mix of pain and pleasure that tore through both of us. I clung to his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into hisskin as he drove deeper, faster. His rhythm was ragged at first, desperate, like a man drowning, gasping for air between every movement until he found the perfect, punishing cadence. The one that made my breath stutter and my vision blur as his name fell from my lips in a litany.
Both of his hands clamped around my waist, dragging me against him, holding me exactly where he wanted me. Every thrust hit deep, relentless and perfect. I tightened around him as I saw the way his gaze tracked and catalogued every inch of the way my body responded to his movement.
“I could stay buried in you every single day for the rest of my life,” he ground out, the words trembling.
The headboard thudded softly against the wall, a faint reminder that the world still existed beyond this room. But it didn’t matter. Nothing did. Not when every thrust, every gasp, every sound was ours. I didn’t care if anyone heard it.
I moved with him, chasing the rhythm he set, meeting him stroke for stroke until a groan ripped from his chest. His grip tightened around my waist until he rolled us once more, rough palms sliding up my back as the new position sent stars flying in my mind. My lips parted in a gasp as his arm hooked around me and dragged my chest down against him.
He buried his face against my throat, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. A whimper tore from me as my entire body felt like it was sitting on the edge of release, waiting to be pushed over.
“You can fall apart, Little Star,” Gabe growled, voice wrecked and shaking. “I’ve got you.”
His arm locked tighter, keeping me flush against him as he drove up into me again and again, hitting that perfect spot. Our bodies found the same frantic rhythm, and when he hit that white-hot point of pleasure, I broke.
Tears pricked my eyes at the overwhelming pleasure and sparks shooting through my entire body. It wasn’t just the orgasm gripping me, though. It was staring into Gabe’s eyes and seeing how satisfied he looked at watching me like this.
There was something so beautiful about being in the arms of the person you loved as you shared the most intimate part of yourself, trusting them to handle your body and heart with such care.
I felt the tremor in his muscles, the strain of holding back as he extended my orgasm as long as he could, from fighting the edge threatening to swallow us both. Every line of his body was drawn tight beneath my hands that rested on his shoulders, and his breathing was rough as I pulled back, my hips still slowly rocking on him.
For a heartbeat, we just stared into each other’s eyes, our hearts beating in the same wild, desperate rhythm.
“I love you, Gabe,” I whispered on a shaky breath, needing him to hear the raw emotions that poured through me—because after everything we’d lost and rebuilt, he deserved to know. “I can’t explain to you how much your patience, support, and love have helped see me through the hardest times of my life.”
His hands lifted to tenderly cup my cheeks, pulling me back to press a ghost of a kiss against my lips before answering, “Careful, Little Star, I think you’re taking me a little too close to Heaven with your confessions. My heart might give out.”
Then he drew back with a rough exhale, shifting me onto my back once more. His palm skimmed down my stomach, the drag of his touch both grounding and electric. A small gasp fell through my parted lips as goosebumps broke out across my skin.
“I love you too, Kieran,” he answered gruffly, as if the emotions were suddenly surging up to grip him. He cleared his throat, voicing dipping to a husky promise of pleasure. “And that’s why I’m nowhere close to being done with you right now.”
This man was going to destroy me in every way I craved.
Suddenly, a sound cut through the haze we’d cocooned ourselves in and our heads turned.
A rap of knuckles against the door.
My pulse spiked, not from fear, but excitement. I knew no one unwelcomed would be able to make it into this house with my men here. Whoever was at the door was one of them, and a tiny voice in my head secretly hoped Steele and Bastian had returned already, not just because I wanted them here for my comfort–but because I couldn’t stop fantasizing about Steele and Gabe sharing me.
“Are you two done yet?”
Steele’s deep voice rumbled from the other side of the door, as if he knew I was thinking of him.
A pulse of heat twisted low in my stomach as I recalled the moment he caught me outside of Gabe’s door as he moaned my name within. Ever since that fateful night, the thought of being shared by the two best friends plagued me.
When Gabe’s gaze turned and met mine, his pupils were blown wide, the remnants of hunger still there, but mixing with something darker now that Steele was just outside.
