Elijah joins us, completing our circle. “The past doesn’t define us. Our choices do.”
Something breaks open in my chest, and I pull Charlie close, burying my face in her neck. She smells like vanilla and home, and I breathe her in until the ghost of my younger self fades completely.
We light a fire in the small fireplace, the flames casting dancing shadows across the walls.
Charlie has prepared a simple meal, nothing fancy, just pasta, bread, and wine.
We eat together, the four of us, talking and laughing like a normal family.
The sexual tension builds naturally as the evening progresses.
When we finally come together, it’s slow and tender. A celebration of survival rather than desperate need.
I start by kissing her deeply, tasting the wine on her lips as my hands slide beneath her dress.
Marcus helps me lift the fabric over her head, revealing the lace bra and panties underneath.
Elijah’s fingers work the clasp at her back while I cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they harden beneath my touch.
“So beautiful,” Marcus murmurs in Spanish, “tan perfecta para nosotros.” His mouth finds the curve of her neck while I lower my head to take one nipple between my lips, sucking gently as she gasps.
Elijah’s hands slide down her sides, hooking into her panties and drawing them down her thighs. I feel her tremble as he spreads her legs, his fingers finding her wet and ready. “God, Charlie,” he breathes, stroking her clit in slow circles that make her hips buck.
We undress quickly, our clothes joining hers on the floor. I lay her back on the bed, settling between her thighs to taste her properly. My tongue traces through her folds, savoring her sweetness as she moans above me. Marcus captures her mouth in a kiss while Elijah takes her breast in his hand, rolling her nipple between his fingers.
I work her with my mouth until she’s writhing, then slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot that makes her cry out. “That’s it,” I murmur against her skin. “Let us hear you.”
When she comes on my tongue, I rise up and position myself at her entrance.
I push inside slowly, reverently, feeling her tight heat envelope my cock inch by inch.
She’s perfect—warm and wet and made for us. I begin to move with long, deep strokes, watching her face as pleasure washes over her features.
Marcus positions himself beside her head, and she turns to take his cock in her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth. Elijah’s hand wraps around his own shaft, stroking himself as he watches us claim her together.
We move as one, three men worshipping the woman we love.
I thrust deeper, angling to hit that spot inside her that makes her moan around Marcus’s cock.
Her body tightens around me as another orgasm builds, and when she comes again, I follow her over the edge, spilling myself deep inside her with a groan of pure satisfaction.
We switch positions throughout the night—Marcus taking her from behind while she pleasures Elijah with her mouth, then Elijah sliding into her as she rides him, her breasts bouncing with each movement.
We claim her completely, reverently, three men who’ve chosen love over obligation.
Afterward, we lie tangled together in my bed, her body warm between us.
I trace the curve of her hip, imagining it swelling with pregnancy.
Marcus’s hand covers mine on her stomach, protective and possessive.
Elijah’s breath is warm against her neck as he presses kisses to her temple.
For the first time in months, I let myself believe we might actually have a future.
I wake in the darkness to find Marcus sitting by the window, moonlight painting his tattooed arms in silver.
He’s staring at something in his hands, his shoulders rigid with tension.
