He kisses me soft, full of sweetness, then lines up and slides into me.
Elliot positions himself behind me. “Last one,” he says, pushing against my ass, slow and possessive. “Can you take it, baby doll?”
I nod, dizzy, wrecked, glowing.
“Words,” he says.
“Fuck me,” I say.
Together, they move.
Noah holds my face. Elliot holds my hips. They fuck me deep and slow, perfect rhythm, every thrust a promise.
I come again.
They follow.
I collapse.
Shaking. Breathless. Owned.
I think I black out for a minute.
Loved. Ruined. Home.
Someone’s laughing softly.
Someone else is wiping between my thighs with a warm cloth and the gentlest hands I’ve ever felt.
I’m not sure who it is, and I don’t care.
It feels like being worshipped.
“Don’t roll her yet,” Noah says. “She went floppy. Let her reset.”
“I’m not floppy,” I mumble into a pillow. “I’m marinated.”
Callum snorts. “That’s worse, Madness. That’s so much worse.”
A bottle of water appears in front of my face.
“Small sips,” Elliot says.
I drink. Then flop.
Vitaly cradles my hand in both of his.
“Was I good?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Like this? In your group?”
“Our group, my love.” I turn just enough to kiss his wrist. “You made me see stars. You made Callum shut up. You made Orion growl. You were amazing.”
“She did scream your name,” Callum adds, reappearing beside me with a fork and what looks like a slice of leftover sharlotka.
He feeds me a bite.
“Dessert after dessert,” he says. “We spoil our girl.”
“Speak for yourself,” Orion grumbles, pulling me into his lap so my back rests against his chest. “I haven’t even gotten my post-sex sandwich.”
