June snorted. “Not until his dick is in your asshole again, anyway.”
I let her undress me, too wrung out to protest, too needy for comfort to resist. When she pushed me down onto the bed beside Milo, I went willingly, watching as she stripped off her own clothes with efficient movements. No ceremony, no performance—just June being practical about getting naked.
She climbed onto the bed, straddling my hips, her hands braced on my chest. “Focus on making it sexy for Milo.”
I looked over at Milo, who was watching us with heavy-lidded eyes, a slight smile on his face despite the pain he had to be in. “This okay?” I asked him, needing his permission even though he’d suggested it.
“More than okay,” he said. “You’re going to have to entertain me like this for my whole recovery.” He reached out with his good hand and squeezed my balls. “What if we edge you for hours just so I get to watch you fuck our girl.”
Our girl. He was looser with his words, and I watched the subtle way June’s eyes widened when he said it.
June reached down between us, wrapping her fingers around my half-hard cock, stroking slowly until I was fully erect. The sensation was grounding, pulling me out of my head and into my body. She positioned herself over me, and I felt the wet heat of her as she sank down, taking me inside with a soft sigh.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my hands finding her hips, holding on like she was the only solid thing in a tilting world.
She began to move, rolling her hips in slow circles, and I watched her face—the way her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting, that little crease appearing between her eyebrows when something felt particularly good. She was beautiful. Not in some abstract, distant way, but in a real, immediate way that made my throat tight.
“That’s it,” Milo murmured from beside us. “God, June, you look amazing riding his cock.”
She smiled at his words, her movements becoming more deliberate, more showy. She arched her back, displaying her small breasts, her hands sliding up her own body to cup them. “Like this?” she asked, her voice breathier now.
“Just like that,” Milo confirmed, running his uninjured hand over her breasts, squeezing and tweaking the nipples.
She grabbed his hand, threaded their fingers together, and held it against her.
Something about that—the way she kept him included, made sure he was part of this—broke something open inside me. This wasn’t just sex. This was us, the three of us, taking care of each other in the only way we knew how right now.
I thrust up to meet June’s movements, my rhythm matching hers, and she gasped, her grip on Milo’s hand tightening. “Xavier,” she breathed. “Oh god, right there.”
I did it again, angling my hips to hit that spot inside her that made her moan, and she rewarded me with a roll of her hips that sent sparks up my spine. Milo was watching us with an intensity that added another layer to the pleasure—knowing he could see everything, see how June’s face flushed, see how my cock disappeared inside her with each movement.
“Tell me what you see,” June gasped, looking at Milo. “Tell me what it looks like.”
“Beautiful,” Milo said, his voice rough. “You’re taking him so well, June. Your body stretched around his cock, your pussy so wet I can see it glistening. And X—fuck, X, you look wrecked. Like she’s destroying you in the best way.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was wrecked. Every thrust, every clench of June’s body around mine, every soft sound she made—it was all stripping away the armor I’d worn for so long. This was what making love felt like. Not just fucking, not just getting off. Thisoverwhelming connection that went beyond physical pleasure into something that scared me even as I craved more of it.
“I’m close,” June warned, her movements becoming more erratic. “Xavier, I need—”
I knew what she needed. One hand left her hip to find her clit, rubbing tight circles as she rode me. She cried out, her body tensing, and then she was coming, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my cock as waves of pleasure washed over her face.
The sight of her, the feel of her, Milo’s ragged breathing beside us—it all combined to push me over the edge. I came with a groan, my hips jerking up as I emptied myself inside her, pleasure so intense it bordered on painful.
June collapsed forward onto my chest, both of us breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. For a long moment, we just lay there, connected, coming down together.
“That was even hotter than I imagined,” Milo said softly, and we both laughed, the sound shaky but real. “No wonder June enjoyed watching us fuck, X.”
We settled into bed—June in the middle, her head on my shoulder, Milo’s hand in hers. For the first time, everything felt right. Even with the fear pressing at my chest, for once I didn’t want to run.
June tilted her head back to look at me, her green eyes serious. “You should see a therapist,” she said, matter-of-fact as always. “About your fears. Your self-worth issues. All of it.”
I tensed instinctively. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she said. “But you could be. Therapy helps—I know, because it helped me. Sometimes you need someone who understands what you’re dealing with and how to help you heal.”
“It’s not like that. I’m just—”
“Just suffering from trauma and deeply ingrained negative self-beliefs that are affecting your ability to accept love and build a healthy life?” June finished.
