“You like being used like this,” I say. “You like knowing you belong to us.”
She makes a desperate, broken sound and comes again, harder this time, her body convulsing as Silas fucks her through it. I lose control, thrust between her perfect lips, and groan as I spill down her throat. She swallows every drop, hands clutching at my thighs like she needs to anchor herself to something real.
When Silas pulls out, he flips her onto her back, manhandling her into a new position without asking.
“Breathe,” Cal whispers, brushing hair from her eyes. “You okay?”
She nods, voice ragged. “Need more. Please.”
Lucky for her, none of us plans to stop.
I kneel between her thighs, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance. My pulse hammers in my throat as I feel her heat against me.
“This is going to hurt, baby. We can’t help that, but I promise we’ll make you feel better,” I say softly, cupping her cheek, tilting her face until her eyes meet mine. “I need you to look at me.”
She nods, lips parted, trusting. The pale column of her throat flexes as she swallows, eyes wide and glassy, lips trembling.
The first push meets resistance, her body virgin-tight, before yielding with a small, wet tear that ignites something primal in my chest. The rip of her cry is raw and involuntary, swallowed instantly by my mouth. Her nails score my shoulders as I claim her completely. The sight of her blood marking me sends a possessive surge through my veins, and I have to fight the urge to thrust deeper, harder. Instead, I press my forehead to hers, overwhelmed by the gift she’s given me. Her body is a furnace, velvety and greedy, her pussy clutching my cock desperately. Each pulse of my cock is met by the frantic flutter of her muscles, a living vise that refuses to let me go.
Cal kisses her throat, nipping at her jaw, hands everywhere, pinching her nipples, holding her wrists above her head like she’d float off without the pressure.
Silas is at her side now, tracing her lips with his thumb, then feeding it to her like a test. She sucks it, eyes wide and adoring, wanton in a way that makes my chest seize.
“God damn,” he says, “You’re unreal.”
I fuck her slow, wanting the moment to last, but I’m so close to breaking I see black at the edges of my vision. Every time I pull out, she squeezes like she wants to keep me, and every time I thrust in, her whole body trembles.
When Cal strokes a hand between us, thumb circling her clit, she falls apart again, screaming this time, the sound so pure it makes my entire body tense. I let go, losing myself inside her, hips stuttering as I spill into her heat. She comes with me, nails raking my back, mouth open in a perfect O as she sobs my name.
I collapse beside her, heart jackhammering, but she’s not done yet.
Cal takes her next, flipping her onto his lap and sinking into her pussy with one thrust. He holds her there, grinding up into her, kissing every inch of skin he can reach—shoulders, collarbone, the place behind her ear that always made her shiver when she was eighteen and too young to know why. He rocks her slow, possessively, like he’s making a point about how she belongs to him too, and when he comes, he bites her shoulder so hard I see the mark bloom red.
Silas is last. He waits until she’s wrecked, boneless, before taking her face in his hands and making her look at him. “You still with us, firefly?”
She nods, tears leaking down her cheeks, but the smile on her lips is pure satisfaction.
“With you,” she whispers.
He doesn’t go gentle. He never does. He fucks her hard and fast, hand in her hair, staring into her eyes like he can see straight to her bones. When he comes, he pulls out, painting her pussy and thighs, then leans down and licks every drop off her skin, growling with filthy delight.
We collapse in a heap, tangled in sweat and silk and each other, the night air cold on our skin, but the heat between us burning strong. She’s bruised and blissed out, but when I brush hair from her eyes, she smiles, soft and genuine and so sweet it hurts.
“You’re ours,” I say, voice a low, private rumble. “Say it.”
She closes her eyes, breathes in the smell of us, and lets it out on a trembling sigh. “Yours. All of yours.”
And for the first time in twelve years, I believe her.
But, when I wake up that next morning, I wish I hadn’t.
15
PARKER
The jet hums like a sleeping predator, all leather and burnished chrome that catches the afternoon light sliding through oval windows. Liam and Noah sit buckled across from me, headphones swallowing their small heads, iPads balanced on knees that don’t quite bend over the seat edge. Cartoon explosions leak through the noise-canceling in tiny metallic bursts.
Liam pushes his dark hair back with that same impatient swipe—Jace’s gesture, muscle memory written in DNA—while Noah glances up with amber eyes that see everything, miss nothing. Cal’s eyes. When they laugh together, the sound hits my sternum like recognition, that low mischief that belongs to Silas threading through their voices like smoke.
