Chapter 30
I come to in the shower. Adam is in there with me, holding me up, and it's a good thing, too. My legs are jello. Pretty much every single part of me is sore.
The soreness is worth it, though. I'm floating on a cloud. The mist from the shower throws up rainbows, and the colors look like my body feels. Euphoria dances along my skin.
Triumph does, too. I pushed myself to the limit tonight, and instead of breaking, I emerged from the most intense sexual experience of my life whole and warm and loved.
And now this man—this beautiful, wonderful man is taking care of me as I come through the other side.
I lean into him, resting my head on his naked chest. He chuckles and wraps his arms more tightly around me. "You back with us, honey?"
I nod. "Did I leave?"
"Not exactly, but you were pretty checked out."
I must have been. The last few minutes only come back to me in distant impressions and fuzzy recollections.
Sergio slipping out of my mouth and wiping a line of come off my slack, parted lips.
Deandre holding me close as he pulled out.
The gush of come from my used hole and the spasms, the emptiness.
And then the kindness. Warm arms supported me, cradled me. Laid me down on that mattress and held me tight.
I remember being cleaned up by gentle hands and kissed five times. I remember being helped to my feet, walking here to this bathroom on shaking legs.
And now here I am, standing under the warm spray, being held against a solid chest, and this man is the only thing keeping me upright.
Adam leans down and presses a kiss to my brow. "Can't say I blame you for spacing out a little. That was something else, just now."
Awe colors his tone, and I flash back to his voice, making commentary as he watched me get fucked in both my ass and my mouth. I remember the towering lines of his muscular, wiry frame as he knelt over me, sliding his cock back and forth between my lips while Cayden and Jax pumped me full.
A shudder racks me, flashes of heat blending with the warm, safe, contentedness of my current position. So many images of naked bodies flitter through my head, intertwined in every possible position.
Only the images I see aren't only about sex.
They're about the soft way Cayden looked at me as I sank down on him.
The tender care Jax took in opening me up.
Sergio's hand on my face, stroking my cheek while Deandre got me ready for his cock.
The proud, possessive kiss Deandre gave me when I agreed to let him into my most vulnerable places.
The look on Adam's face right now, staring down at me as he literally keeps me from collapsing into a well-fucked, satiated heap.
I'm far too tired to do anything about it, but a creative urge stirs in me. There was so much beauty and tenderness in that room we all just occupied. In a hundred years, I don't know that I could capture it on a canvas, but inspiration sparks at my fingertips. I want to try.
Maybe, later, I will.
For now, though, I let myself relax.
My body remains lose and easy as Adam starts to wash the evidence of the evening from my body. The shampoo he rubs into my hair smells like the men—do they all use the same one? If it weren't enough that they all just pumped me full of their come, I feel branded by this new infusion of their scent.
"Lean back." He rinses the suds from my hair, then returns with conditioner. That takes me by surprise until I remember Sergio's shining locks. Jax has long-ish hair, too, so it must be worth their while to invest in the stuff.
Regardless, combined with the scalp massage, it feels like heaven. We repeat the process of rinsing it away. Then he grabs a bar of soap and lathers it between his hands.
"Bar soap?" I slur. "Is that even a thing anymore?"
He laughs. "For a house full of guys, yeah."
"Whatever." I let my eyes slide shut in bliss as he rubs the bubbles into my skin. "I have proof that you all own conditioner. You're not as rugged as you seem."
"No," he admits, voice soft. "Not all the time, we aren't."
His touch on my body is sensual without being specifically arousing.
With gentle hands, he cleans my face and breasts.
My nipples hum with awareness when he strokes them with his palms. My hips are tender, fingerprint bruises rising on pale flesh, and I probably shouldn't be as pleased by that as I am.
"Here." He urges me to lean back against the wall.
I brace my head against the corner of the shower, too tired to bear its weight.
Once I'm stable, he sinks to his knees, and I can't help it.
My pussy gives a little throb at the image of him there.
He spreads my legs and gently cleans me up.
All the come the other men left in me washes away.
The warm air on my sensitive flesh sends another tremor through me.
He lifts his gaze and raises a brow. "You need anything?"
"Need? No." Definitely not. "Want?…"
He licks his lips and pauses, his hand right there, thumb inches from my clit. "Yeah?"
I nod. "Yeah."
So slowly, so gently, he parts my folds. His thumb traces a soft line through my lower lips. I tremble at the touch, everything raw, and yet it still manages to feel good.
It feels even better when he replaces his thumb with his tongue.
Humming, I drop my head back against the tile. I'm really glad he's the one perennially clean-shaven guy in the house, because I'm not sure I could take any beard burn right now.
With soft strokes of his tongue, he builds a low pleasure in me. I'm all used up and rung out, but I'm still capable of ascending. Moaning his name, I thread my fingers in his hair.
I don't even know how long he eats me out. He presses a single finger inside and crooks it, and yes, yes—that's just enough.
A slow, rolling orgasm pulses through me. He licks me through it.
When I find the strength to do so, I open my eyes. He's still kneeling on the ground, lips red and eyes lidded.
Between his legs, he's hard.
I motion in the general direction of his arousal and then my wet, blissed-out cunt. "You wanna?"
He frowns. "You've got to be sore."
"So be gentle with me." I beckon him up. He rises, and I take his cock in my hand, giving it a long, languorous stroke. "Come on. It'll feel good. I want you to."
Apparently, that's too tempting of an offer to resist. He kisses me nice and slow, then puts his hands on my thighs.
A low shelf set into the wall of the shower ends up being the perfect height. He hoists me onto it, and I spread my legs.
He fits inside so easily. It's good to be full again, and yeah, I'm sore, but it doesn't matter. Kissing my mouth wetly, he thrusts in and out, slow and easy.
We fuck like that for the longest time. Every motion of his body feels good. When he starts to get close, he sneaks a hand in between us. The gentle pressure on my clit is more than enough.
"Come with me," I gasp, wet, into his ear.
We climax together. He moans my name, pushing in deep before finally going still.
Pressing his head to the tile behind us, he takes a moment to catch his breath. Then he peels away and kisses me again.
"I'm really glad you decided to stay with us," he says. His mouth curls up into a crooked grin. "And I'm really glad I got to have another turn."
The words are gentle, teasing and flirty, even. They totally fit the tone of the evening. Hell, one of the sexiest moments tonight was when Cayden looked at me with lust in his eyes and basically called dibs on fucking me next.
But for some reason, right now, it doesn't sit with me quite right. In the moment, it's so incredibly sexy to be treated like an object that they all get to use and pass around.
Out of it, though…
My worries about my independence and my life swirl through my head.
With all the will I have, I force them down. It's not time for them.
It's time to rest. To recover. To enjoy one hell of a fucking afterglow.
But no matter how I try, I can't quite seem to silence them.