Linus watches my face. His mouth hovers over my breast. “Come for us again. Pull us deeper.”
Liam circles faster. The pressure builds. My pussy spasms when my orgasm hits. My body convulses to take every last drop deeper.
I arch into it, flooded and adored.
Linus’s mouth latches on to my nipple as my climax rolls on. They stay with me. Watching. Touching. Loving me through every aftershock until I go soft beneath them.
Utterly satiated.
Liam shifts first, settling on my left side. He curves toward me, one arm sliding beneath my neck to cradle my head. His thigh drapes across my hip, anchoring me without crowding. His lips brush my temple, and I melt against him.
Linus follows, moving to my right, chest close to mine. He props himself on an elbow for a moment, long enough to kiss the edge of my mouth. Then he lowers onto his side, facing in, his hand resting on my stomach.
I’m sandwiched from both sides. Their chests warm against me, legs entwined with mine. My hips are still lifted by the soft stack of pillows beneath me, letting me stay open, letting nothing escape.
Liam’s hand splays across my waist. He finds Linus’s hand on my belly. Their fingers brush. Then intertwine.
Over me.
They lean across my chest, mouths meeting above my heart. There’s no rush. Only the shared breath of men who’ve done everything they came here to do.
Liam hums against Linus’s lips. Linus smiles into the kiss.
They kiss me next. Liam to my cheek. Linus to my collarbone. Then my lips, one after the other, until I don’t know which kiss is which anymore.
Their hands drift.
One palm cups my breast. The other strokes the soft skin above my thigh. They don’t grope. They don’t tease. They touch as if memorizing everything we’ve done.
Liam’s hand curls under my ribs. Linus’s arm wraps under my waist. Their legs cross gently through mine, staying close. Their fingers remain linked above my stomach.
I am full. I am theirs.
Being loved like this is not punishment.
Never shame.
This is the holiest thing any of us have ever known.
sixty-three
Liam
New Year's Eve
Thearenabreatheslikeit’s alive.
Weighty.
Pressure pools under my boots. Climbs the risers. Settles into muscle and bone.
Climate Pledge Arena holds its breath with us, twenty thousand people leaning forward, waiting for ignition. New Year’s Eve sharpens everything. Endings feel closer tonight.
Beginnings louder.
Fireball is opening for LTZ. Our last fucking show.
The room feels seismic. Two forces sharing a single night, we may be playing first but there’s no hierarchy anymore.
