Instead, it feels like coming home.
Dean’s gaze is dark and intense, but there’s a softness there too, a question he doesn’t voice that I’m compelled to answer anyway.
I reach for him, my fingers threading through his hair as he rises.
Callum’s lips brush the nape of my neck, a feather-light touch that sends shivers racing down my spine.
Grant’s hands settle on my waist, thumbs tracing the curve of my hipbones and hooking under the line of my underwear as he memorizes me all over again.
The room is quiet except for our breathing—mine shallow and quick and theirs steady but edged with the same desperate need I feel coiling low in my belly.
I’m laid down on the bed.
The mattress dips under Grant’s weight first, then Dean’s, Callum sliding in last.
The sheets are cool against my back, but their bodies are warm when they surround me on all sides.
Dean’s chest pressed against my side, Callum tangles between my legs, and Grant’s hand splays possessively over my stomach.
I arch into their touches without thinking, a soft sound escaping my throat.
My head is tilted to the side and my lips possessed by Dean’s.
Callum’s fingers trace the lace edge of my panties, teasing me until I’m squirming while Grant’s lips brush the hollow ofmy throat as he works down to my chest, his beard scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin.
There’s no rush tonight.
Every touch is a vow that goes unsaid:We’re here. We’re staying. You’re ours.
My bra is unclasped with practiced ease, Dean’s fingers this time, and the fabric falls away.
Callum’s mouth closes over one nipple, warm and wet, drawing a gasp from me that Grant swallows with a kiss when Dean pulls back to let me breath.
Another hand slides lower, over the curve of my hip, tracing the edge of my panties before slipping beneath, finding me already slick and aching.
I whimper into Grant’s mouth, my hips bucking involuntarily. Fingers are pumped in and out of me, spreading me wide, prepping me for what’s to come.
They take their time undressing themselves, shirts tugged over heads, belts unbuckled with deliberate slowness and jeans kicked aside.
The sight of them—Grant’s broad, scarred chest; Callum’s lean, disciplined lines; Dean’s bulky build and playful grin even now—steals my breath away.
I reach for them, needing to touch, to feel the reality of this after weeks of having my nightmares filled with their rejections.
My fingers trace the ridges of Grant’s abs, the sharp cut of Dean’s hipbone, the dimples in Callum’s lower back.
They groan in unison, the sound vibrating through me.
Dean settles between my thighs first, his mouth hot and insistent against mine as his tongue circles my own with devastating precision.
His cock fills me, stretching me until all I can focus on for a moment is him. Callum’s lips find my breast again, teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out.
Grant kneels beside my head, his hand cupping my jaw as he pulls me face away from Dean’s and guides his cock to my mouth.
I take him in eagerly, the taste of him salty and familiar, my tongue swirling around the wet head as he threads fingers through my hair.
I’m lost in it, inthemand the pleasure that coils tighter and tighter until it snaps.
My orgasm crashes over me in waves that leave me shaking, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes from how good it feels to be trapped between them all.
