“Keep practicing,” he says through a clenched jaw before he lets out his own groan. “Fuck…I’m coming.”
His hand chokes up on the base of my cock as his entire body tenses.
“That’s right, babe,” Isaac says. “That’s how you come for me.”
“I fucking love coming for you,” Deacon whispers so softly I doubt Isaac hears him over all the skin slapping skin. Or maybe he does because Isaac lets out a choked noise, either at Deacon’s sort of romantic proclamation, or he’s close, too.
I honestly don’t care. I barely feel like I’m in my body anymore, but I do feel close to them. Part of them. In love with them.
I manage to prop myself up on my hands. They’re on either side of Deacon’s head, and through the haze of my wobbly vision, I watch him bite his lip and flutter his lashes as his orgasm continues to shudder through him.
It’s so hot. He’s so beautiful. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it was the claiming, or maybe it’s that my prostate is so overstimulated it can’t help itself, but my body detonates with an orgasm I can only describe as unholy. The noise that fills the room sounds like how I imagine a dying animal sounds. It’s subhuman, and it rips straight from my chest.
Isaac holds my hips still, slammed against his own. The throb of his cock vibrates my clenched walls. “Baby,God…” he groans as he empties himself inside me and all over Deacon.
He moves in and out of me a few more times in the aftermath until Deacon taps his thigh. “Off. Get off.”
Isaac chuckles. “Sorry, babe.” He slides out first, and then I’m dragged forward. Deacon’s cock slips out of me. Cum is literally everywhere.
On Deacon’s abs. Pouring from my ass onto his legs and the bed, my inner thighs. If somebody suggests a group shower, though, I might have an actual break with reality.
“Omelet time,” Isaac says, and I hear the playful note in his voice. God, I’ve missed that. With all the drama, somewherealong the way, it slipped my mind how much I get off on pleasing that man.
Deacon grumbles a distinct, “Fuck off.”
I laugh. “I can make some toast.” I don’t know why I say it. I’m not sure I can walk. My asshole isthrobbing. It feels huge and empty and, frankly—a hot mess. I might need to look up some exercises on the trip home to make sure everything stays toned down there. Maybe an ice pack to start with…
Isaac gathers me in his arms, and I turn to give myself room to hug him. He kisses his way up and down my cheek. “You don’t have to get up. I can take care of breakfast.”
“Like hell,” Deacon says.
“Fine,” Isaac says. “Then get moving. I’ll make sure we didn’t break anything.”
A frown of concern furrows Deacon’s brow. “You okay?”
I nod.
“I didn’t know he was gonna do that.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” Isaac mumbles.
Deacon rolls his eyes and turns to get onto all fours before climbing off the bed. He grabs some clothes and disappears behind the bathroom door without another word. The shower cuts on, and Isaac pulls me down to the mattress in a full on snuggle. He pulls the blanket over me as his mouth moves from my cheek to my lips. I open for him, welcoming him back inside.
“I love you so much,” he says once we’ve shared a thorough kiss.
“I love you, too. I really missed you.” I want to be honest, to rip down all the walls. If I’m going to be away from him—them—I no longer want any doubt about how I really feel.
We stay like that through Deacon’s shower. I experience some shivering and Isaac holds me tight, promising me water and a good breakfast. When the water stops running, I’m backin my right mind, more or less. I have a few sips of water and cuddle back up with Isaac.
“If you’re leaving today, then I need your help convincing Deacon to move in with me,” he says.
“Has he not?”
“We’ve only been together six weeks.”
“Then maybe it’s too fast?” I ask.
“Ugh,” he groans, squeezing me even tighter.
