“Fuck me harder, Masters. Use my holes until I can’t think,” Oliver pleaded, his voice breaking as Hayes shoved his cock back into Oliver’s mouth, muffling the words into wet, slurping sounds.
Meanwhile, Hudson hoisted Oliver’s hips higher, pounding into his ass while reaching around to yank the dildo free from his pussy, replacing it with his fingers—three at once, curling to hit that spot that made Oliver scream around Hayes’s cock. Hayes face-fucked him without mercy, his balls slapping against Oliver’s chin, the outline of his cock visible each time it entered Oliver’s throat. “Swallow it all, pup.”
My nipples throbbed under the clamps, each movement, each thrust sending jolts straight to my groin, where my cock was suffering from the vibrating ring’s constriction and my overall oversensitivity. I reached down instinctively, trying to soothe it, but Grey slapped my hand away.
“No touching,” he growled.
I nodded frantically, submitting fully, my body under his control.
Oliver’s next orgasm built faster, his body betraying him as Hudson’s fingers pumped roughly into him. He squirmed against the restraints, the spreader bar still keeping his ankles locked apart.
Hayes pulled out just before his peak, stroking himself to spray hot cum across Oliver’s face, marking him obscenely. “Look at you, covered in cum like a whore. Now take Hudson’s load in your ass.”
Hudson groaned, his pace faltering as he buried himself deep, flooding Oliver’s insides with pulse after pulse of semen.
Greyson watched the display, his own arousal seeming to spike. He sped up, fucking me even harder. “Watch your friend get filled, kitten. That’s what’s coming for you.”
My eyes fixated on Oliver’s debauched form—cum dripping from his face, ass leaking as Hudson pulled out, only for Hayes to slide in next, claiming the sloppy seconds.
The sight made me shiver. “Daddy, I’m—”
Greyson cut me off with a sharp thrust, pumping his release deep inside with a guttural moan.
“So full,” I whimpered, my body twitching as another load filled me.
Greyson then draped himself over me, breathing heavily, sweat on his brow. “I’m calling it,” he panted. “Break time.”
2
Oliver
The three brothers had been talking rather intensely in Greyson’s office for close to an hour. They weren’t fighting—thank god—but they clearly had some strong opinions that needed sorting out.
I was content to ignore them for the most part.
I was still basking in the afterglow of what had just happened. Plus, I was curled up with Lane in his bed, cozy and warm under soft blankets, so there were more important things to focus on than our loud husbands.
From here in Lane’s bedroom, their voices were faint enough that if I tried, I could block them out entirely.
I’d worried at first, definitely concerned they’d all stab each other, but Lane seemed to think they’d be okay, so I’d left them to it.
Lane was currently napping, and instead of trying to fall asleep myself, I’d snuggled up close and watched—notcreepily—as he got some much-needed rest. Technically speaking, I probably needed the rest more than he did, having two husbands and all, but I just couldn’t look away from my friend.
He was so beautiful.
Lane’s long auburn lashes rested against his cheeks, his makeup somehow still perfect after all that. His mouth was parted just slightly, breath slow and even. I mapped the constellation of freckles across his face with my eyes, my fingers itching to reach out and count every one. Soft red hair framed his face, the shiny loose curls falling just past his nipples.
I shifted just enough to tuck the blanket higher over Lane’s pale shoulder. I moved slowly, careful not to wake him, my hand hovering for a moment before settling. He didn’t stir—just made a soft, almost inaudible sound and turned a fraction closer, as if he’d been seeking me even in sleep.
I stayed very still after that, my heart thudding a little too loudly in my ears.
I’d always been good at wanting things quietly. It was a skill you learned when the things you wanted weren’t meant for you. You learned how to hold them without breaking anything, without pushing any boundaries.
Lane had never been mine, and that was okay. We had both found lovers who completed something inside us that neither of us would’ve been able to fill.
Lane shifted again, turning more onto his side. I swallowed, my throat tightening, and let my head rest lightly against his chest.
“I love you,” I murmured without thinking, the words barely louder than his breathing.
