Kit could barely see Bishop past the others. Darius was murmuring something into Bishop’s ear. But from Kit’s brief glimpses, there was no hint of hesitation. Just a mirror of Kit’s own hunger.
James tossed Kit onto the bed. Kit barely bounced before James pinned him with a searing kiss. Fingers twisting in James’s silky hair, Kit moaned. Loud, high, deliberately showing off how badly he wanted this.
He didn’t even complain when James—or someone else—whisked his neon green sweatpants away, along with his briefs. Darius peeled away Kit’s socks, then held Kit’s feet firmly to the mattress.
Exposed from the waist down, Kit shivered. His cock twitched, nearly high enough to kiss his stomach. Every breath of air seemed to stroke from his balls to his leaking tip. Vulnerability crystallized until surrender felt strangely like control.
Every man in this room was obsessed with Kit. He bared his throat for them, and they handed him their leashes.
The mattress rocked with another body. Holden slid into James’s place, intensity sharpening his brown eyes. He touched Kit’s lips. Gently at first, then he fucked two fingers between Kit’s teeth.
A breath of silence caught them. Long enough for Kit to remember the issue of logistics.
“Who’s going first?” James said brightly, clearly on the same page as Kit. “We could draw straws. I don’t have any straws, but I can find a random generation site.”
Holden traced spit-slick fingers down Kit’s throat. “You all figure that out. I’ll be over here fucking my darling.”
“I’ll arm wrestle you for it,” Darius said, caressing Kit’s anklebones with confidence.
Bishop leaned against the footboard, still fully dressed and disheveled. Exhaustion or relief softened his piercing blue eyes into something impossibly tender. He was silent. Patient.
In Kit’s expert opinion, Bishop had been patient far too long.
48
“Damn, you look good together.”
Kit sat up and yanked his shirt off. “I want Bishop first.”
“Okay, fair.” James clapped Bishop on the shoulder. “Need any pointers? How long has it been?”
Bishop settled on the edge of the bed, rubbing shoulders with Darius. He didn’t touch Kit, but his heated gaze was palpable. Foot hitched up on his knee, he started unlacing his shoes, and fuck, how was that so hot? Like Bishop was unlacing his shoesatKit.
“I think I remember how this works,” Bishop said, moving to his other shoe. “Do you have condoms?”
Kit squashed his unreasonable disappointment. “In the bathroom. I think? Maybe?”
“I can grab them,” Darius said, without budging. If anything, his grip on Kit’s ankles tightened. “But if you’re clear, Bishop, Kit would rather skip them. He likes it messy.”
“Shut up,” Kit complained, feeling very seen. The good kind of embarrassment. “I’m trying to be respectful.”
Bishop slid one rough hand over Kit’s stomach. “I’m clear. But I still need—” James shoved a half-empty bottle of lube in front of his face, and Bishop adjusted mid-sentence. “—you to pick how I’m fucking you.”
Today was about trusting his own desires. Kit already had the slow, face-to-face unraveling with Bishop. Now he wanted to be overpowered. Surrounded.
“Let me turn over,” Kit told Darius, who chuckled and released his ankles. Even Holden cooperated, moving to the side without complaint. Kit twisted onto his hands and knees. His fingers dug into the plush bedding, and delicious nerves fluttered in his stomach.
Turning his back felt vulnerable in the best way. Kit didn’t need to constantly watch over his shoulder anymore. The demon from his past was dead. Extremely, thoroughly dead. More importantly, he had these incredible, dedicated men watching out for him.
They might be monsters, but they were his monsters.
Bishop crowded behind Kit. Rough jeans scraped Kit’s bare ass and thighs. A firm hand settled over Kit’s tailbone, as if there were any chance of Kit fleeing. The possessive gesture was reassuring. So was Darius’s grip sliding into Kit’s hair, as Darius knelt to Kit’s right. From just the corner of Kit’s eye, he could see Holden on Darius’s other side, silent and intent on Kit alone.
James was on Kit’s left. The constant commentary kicked off as he traced the taut lines of Kit’s body. “Damn, you look good like this, babe. All exposed for us. Such a good little bad boy. Can’t wait to wreck that pretty mouth again, but I’ll wait for—”
Slick, cool fingers massaged into Kit’s hole. He tensed, then relaxed, pushing into it. Christ, if Bishop took much longer, Kit was going to—
Bishop shoved two thick fingers right inside.
