Epilogue
Next Christmas
Wrapping his arms around me from behind, Wolf cups under my ginormous belly to ease the load. I groan and lean into the relief, using him for support.
“Sweet girl, you need to rest,” he says, kissing my shoulder.
No, I don’t. I can’t rest. I have so much to do.
Our baby will be here by the new year. I’m thirty-eight weeks pregnant, and he or she could come any time.
The doctor said that since this is my first baby, it’s common to go past my due date, but I’m not taking any chances.
Plus, it’s Christmas—our last one before we become parents.
My sister, carrying a plate of fresh cookies, passes us in the kitchen and heads for the living room. “If you come sit down, I’ll feed you cookies,” she calls over her shoulder, knowing sweets—chocolate, especially—are my pregnancy kryptonite.
Jace chuckles from the stove, where he’s cooking our Christmas dinner, which I’m prohibited from helping with, since my ankles look like ham hocks.
Newsflash: Pregnancy is not for the weak.
It makes you ache everywhere, pee nonstop, crave the wildest food combinations, and waddle like a penguin, but apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment because I love it.
Even if feeling our baby move seems a bit like I’m the protagonist of an alien movie, pumped full of hormones that make me happy to carry my parasite.
Walking me forward, Wolf carries our child to my sister, where he deposits me next to her on the couch.
Before I can complain, she shoves a cookie in my mouth.
It has a giant purple dong. I sputter at the intrusion, but eat it anyway as Wolf laughs and sits on the coffee table in front of me.
He lifts one of my feet into his lap and rubs the swollen balloons as I swallow the sugary dong.
“Was this your doing again?” I tease, showing Wolf what’s left of his masterpiece.
He grins so stupidly sexy with a naughty twinkle in his eye that I wanna jump his bones, but he still doesn’t confess to the phallic cookie.
Thankfully, I know better. He’s my baking boyfriend.
We’ve baked together all year long when he’s home.
Our social media followers love watching us try new recipes.
The more elaborate, the better. That usually means more fuckups, and for some reason, they love our flops almost as much as our wins.
Plus, we make bank if he’s shirtless, showing off all those delicious tattoos.
My guys are serious eye candy, and they own it.
It doesn’t hurt that they’re gym bros, even more so now than before.
Their physiques, while mine has gotten less flattering, theirs have gotten even more ripped.
They’ve turned working out into their weekly boyfriend dates—visit the gym, sauna, shower, snag a coffee, and bring me home dessert.
That is one of the many throuple kinks we’ve had to work out along the way, and by kinks, I don’t mean naughty, so get your dirty mind out of the gutter.
It’s a balancing act between jobs, dates, and private time.
Wolf and I have more dates at home, while Jace and I have ours out on the town.
Finding what works has been a ton of trial and error.
Fitting our lives together started with finding a bed that fit us all.
Given my and Jace's size, our king wasn’t cutting it unless we all slept on our sides and squeezed in like a can of sardines.
We made it work for a month, but eventually upgraded when Wolf was out on a run.
He was excited to christen our new edition when he got home.
We’re pretty sure that’s the night I conceived our little one.
“I really like the new nursery,” Harmony comments, tearing me from my musings.
I snatch another cookie from the plate on her lap. “Thanks. It was the guys’ idea. They did it all.” I flash Wolf a smile.
They transformed his old bedroom into the nursery, and I didn’t lift a finger.
Oh. I have a little game for you…
From the little time you’ve known us, can you guess the theme they chose?
I’ll give you a hint…
Our social media viewers voted on it.
We asked for suggestions, and they pulled through. Then we picked our top ten favorites from the list, and they narrowed it down to one.
Was it…
A mechanic’s wet dream.
Forest animals.
Or
Tattooed Fairyland
If you guessed C, you’d be right. Wolf knows a tattoo artist, someone named Pixie, who looks as much like a fairy as you’d expect, down to the colorful hair and petite frame.
She spent three days painting murals on our little one’s bedroom walls—unisex ones since we don’t know the gender—from tattoo-styled roses and toadstools to a friendly ogre representing Jace, a Wolf for you-know-who, and a mama bear for me, sitting on a stump reading Alice in Wonderland.
As a child who often wanted to escape her life, that was my favorite book when I was little.
Jace and Wolf filled the nursery with jeweled-toned furniture and the coziest rug to match the whimsy vibes.
I may or may not spend hours working in there in the rocking chair, molding it to my butt, and using my laptop that doesn’t fit well on my lap anymore.
It’s part of my nesting. Or that’s what the internet says, according to Jace, the obsessive baby researcher.
Speak of the devil…
He joins us in the living room and sits down beside me.
Harmony carries on a conversation about the nursery with Wolf, whom she likes a lot more than Jace, who’s always been lukewarm to her.
To put it mildly, Jace thinks Harmony is a spoiled wildcat who uses me.
I don’t see it that way, as she’s my sister, and Wolf plays Switzerland where our families are concerned.
As long as they’re nice to him, that’s all we care about.
Harmony has been the most welcoming of our unconventional relationship.
I rest my head on Jace’s shoulder, and he kisses me there. “How ya feelin’, babe?”
A yawn escapes me before I can suck it back in. “Fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You sound tired.”
I rub my bump. “I am, but it’s Christmas.”
“Um. Hmmm,” he hums, not sounding convinced. “How’s our cub?”
“He or she is great.” I stifle a yawn.
“Are you ready for Rudy to be born?” he asks with a smile in his voice.
“Veto,” Wolf grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Jace flips him off, and Harmony chuckles at their bickering.
It’s nonstop when it comes to baby names.
We agreed we all must like the name, but I must like it most, since I’m the one working the hardest. Jace, being Jace, can’t stop blurting whatever names he likes from the baby website he’s constantly scrolling.
We’re almost through the Rs. At least we’re more than halfway through the alphabet.
So far, we haven’t landed on a single one.
“Can we not do this today? Please,” I beg, not wanting this to end up how it usually does, with Jace’s feelings hurt when we can’t agree on a name, and Wolf licking Jace’s wounds, and by wounds, I mean ass. That always seems to cheer Jace up.
“As far as I’m concerned, sweet girl, you can decide,” Wolf says.
Jace snorts. “Veto.”
“Kid.”
“Sir.”
“Don’t.”
“Or what?”
Wolf gives Jace the look, the hot daddy one that promises trouble and sin. “You know exactly what.”
Harmony fans her face, leans over, and whispers, “Oh. My. God. Is this what it’s always like?”
I nod.
Yep.
This is what it’s like living with two very stubborn males.
Wolf is far more easygoing than Jace. He doesn’t sweat the small stuff or wave his dominance around unless it pertains to sex.
Jace speaks his mind and wants everything to work out for the best, including giving everyone a voice, even if they don’t want it.
Is being too considerate a thing? If so, that’s Jace.
I clap my hands for them to knock it off, so we don’t end up with Wolf’s cock shoved down Jace’s throat in front of Harmony.
Not that I’d mind. I love a front-row seat to them going at it.
But she’d likely never want to leave. Could you blame her?
I mean… look at them. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I don’t share.
What’s mine is mine, and these men belong to me.
Cupping my belly, I gesture for Wolf to help me up, so I can pack my niece and nephews’ Christmas gifts. They’re at their dad’s until after the new year. Harmony is going stir-crazy not having them around to keep her busy.
He helps me to the tree, and I get on my knees to gather the gifts from the back. Wolf grumbles as I struggle. “Sweet Girl, stop it. Let me help.” He pats my ass as he joins me on the floor and helps gather the giant pile of brightly wrapped packages for my family.
“That one too.” I point to a blue one in the way back.
Wolf huffs as he dives under the tree, collects it, and tucks it into the Santa sack I bought.
“Gracie, we can do this when the kids get back. You don’t have to worry about that now,” Harmony calls from the couch.
Resting on my knees, I catch my breath. “It has to be now. We’re taking the Christmas decorations down tomorrow, so they’re down before the baby comes. It’s one less thing to worry about.”
“What she meant to say is, she’s gonna let us take down the decorations while she eats cookies from the couch,” Wolf says.
“That is not what I meant,” I grumble.
“Yes. It is. You’re not liftin’ a goddamn finger.”
“I can help.”
“No. You cannot.”
I scowl at my man. “Wolf.”
Tilting his head to the side like a predator, his molten gaze rakes me from head to bump and back again. “You wanna check your tone, Sweet Girl?” he rumbles, and damn if that tone doesn’t hit me in the naughty bits.
I bite my bottom lip, and his nostrils flare.
“Well?” he prompts and gets off the floor when I don’t respond. He tosses the Santa sack over his muscular shoulder and offers me his hand. I slide my palm across his, and he grips me hard. “Well?” Wolf rubs our combined hands against his bulge.
My sister gasps from the couch.
Jace groans beside her, watching us like some live-action soft-core porn show.
I swallow thickly, and Wolf’s eyes darken as he jacks himself twice, letting me feel him there, just a taste.
I wanna tell him this is wholly inappropriate, but he doesn’t care.
He never does. Not when he pushes me into a corner aisle of the grocery store and fingers me.
Not when he pulls over the car on the side of the road to eat my pussy or ass or fuck me.
He has no shame. He does whatever the hell he wants, whenever the hell he wants, regardless of who’s around.
A sinister grin transforms his face as he tugs me to my feet.
When he releases my hand, he grips the front of my shirt and pulls me flush against him—bump to crotch.
I tilt my head back, knowing what he wants.
Wolf’s lips claim mine, and I melt. When he drops the sack onto the couch beside Harmony, his mouth never leaving mine, I follow him, stuck to him like glue.
Jace slips in behind me, and together, the three of us kiss and shed our clothes as we fumble up the stairs to our bedroom, where they finish undressing me before helping me kneel on the bed.
Parting my cheeks, Jace buries his face in my pussy from behind as Wolf slides his head beneath my breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth. He groans as he feasts on what little breast milk he can, savoring my offering.
Wolf jacks off as he suckles me, suffocating in my soft mounds. His hot breath bathes my flesh as he struggles to breathe.
“Do you want my cock, babe?” Jace groans against my pussy.
“Yes,” I cry out.
“I’ll be gentle.” Swiping his tongue from my clit to my ass, he circles my rim before kissing me there.
The bed dips as he lines up behind me and slips his cockhead through my soaked folds.
Up and down my pussy, he glides his shaft, getting it nice and wet before he breaches my center.
I moan as my walls stretch around him. My pussy clamps tight around his girth as Wolf pulls off my breasts with a gasp and sits on the bed, legs spread on either side of me, back against the headboard.
He holds his cock out for me to suck, and I do as my husband ruts me from behind.
“That’s it, my sweet girl, suck Daddy’s cock. That’s it. That’s it,” Wolf encourages.
Fuck. My woman is so goddamn gorgeous. So fuckin’ lush.
The taste of her pre-milk lingers on my tongue as I sift my fingers through her dark hair and slowly make her take my cock.
I’m gentle, feeding her little bits at a time.
My perfect Gracie, my sweet, sweet girl, takes every inch and moans for more.
Her eyelids flutter as she lets us take care of her, as we always do.
This is my love, my life.
She’s carrying our child.
Our little girl.
I know what we’re having.
Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone, but I called the Doc, and they told me.
Aria.
That’s her name.
They don’t know it yet, but it’s perfect.
I chose it months ago.
Gracie moans around my cockhead as Jace fills her cunt. Her giant tits sway below her. Dribbles of pre-milk leave wet stains on the sheets.
Fuck.
I force her to suck the tip and brush my fingertips over the apples of her flushed cheeks. “You’re doin’ so good. Daddy’s gonna fill your mouth, sweet girl.”
Gracie groans at my words, and my nuts draw up tight as the suction around my dick has my eyes rolling into the back of my skull and my toes curling.
“Come,” Jace demands, and fuck if I don’t bow to his order, even if it’s for Gracie and not me. We come together. First Gracie, then me, and finally, Jace.
My orgasm goes on and fuckin’ on, filling Gracie’s mouth. She swallows every jet, and her throaty moans vibrate through my shaft, urging more to come, to feed her, to fill her, to satiate her hunger.
When she’s had enough and I soften, I pull her off my cock and rest her head on my thigh, where she catches her breath. Jace cleans up his cum with his mouth, eating it from Gracie’s pussy.
“Merry Christmas, sweet girl. I love you so much.” I push a sweaty strand of dark hair off her forehead.
“Merry Christmas… I love you more,” she puffs, smiling up at me lazily, her lips swollen and red, cheeks pink.
My heart thumps at her beauty.
A lifetime will never be enough with them.
They’re my everything, and soon Aria will be here, and my life will be complete.
I’m one lucky motherfucker.
The End