“You did so well tonight,” Hayes murmured.
Oliver blinked up at him, too far gone to form a response.
I huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s definitely time for bed now.”
Hayes tilted Oliver’s face up, kissing him slowly and deeply.
And when he pulled back, Oliver swayed toward him instinctively.
I stepped in behind him, wrapping my arms around both of them and pressing my mouth to the back of Oliver’s neck.
“Ours,” I said quietly.
Oliver let out a long breath, the last of the tension leaving him.
We helped him into the bedroom, then dressed him in soft sleep shorts and one of Hayes’s oversized shirts. I tugged it down over his hips, smoothing my hands along his sides once more.
“Bed,” Hayes ordered gently.
Oliver didn’t argue. He curled into the center automatically, one hand finding mine, the other reaching for Hayes.
Within seconds, his breathing evened out.
Hayes brushed a final kiss into his hair.
I rested my palm over Oliver’s ribs, feeling each steady inhale.
Glancing at him over Ollie’s head, I whispered, “I’ll handle cleanup downstairs. You sleep in with him.”
Hayes nodded. “Sounds fair.”
III
Family Game Night
The whole gang gets together at Wesley and Ronan’s home for a night of bloody fun. Inevitably, all the excitement leads some members to get a bit too excited in a different way.
Content Warnings: Torture of SCs, murder of SCs, dubious consent, rimming
Thank you to Regina (@reginageorgereads on Instagram) for suggesting this! I needed an excuse to write more torture scenes, and having it be a family affair was so much fun.
6
Ronan
“I thought you said this was going to be a game night.”
My lip twitched up at the exasperation in my husband’s voice.
I didn’t turn around right away, choosing to focus on finishing my current task. The knife moved in steady, even strokes through a block of sharp white cheddar, the rhythm familiar and calming. Outside the wall of glass windows, the woods were darkening as evening settled over the property, the last gray light filtering through a sea of towering pines. It would be fully dark by the time everyone arrived.
Perfect atmosphere.
“It is,” I replied mildly, sliding the slices into a neat fan on the charcuterie board.
Behind me, I heard Wes sigh the way a man sighs when he already knows he isn’t going to like the answer he’s about to get.
“Well then,” he said carefully, “why are there two men tied up in our dining room?”
