Chapter 4 Josephine
Josephine
I still have the towel wrapped around my body when I enter the bedroom and find Kendrick sprawled out on our massive family bed.
We keep separate rooms at our main house in Charlotte and at the condo in Atlanta. But here at the cabin I usually make all the guys cuddle up in the primary bedroom.
Everyone sleeps so well here, including the kids. It’s just a testament to how truly at home we feel in the cabin where Decker and I got married all those years ago.
I approach the bed quietly, unsure if he’s awake. The electric fireplace is roaring at one end of the room, casting a warm, golden glow over his body.
His eyes find mine, and a predatory up and down confirms he’s definitely not asleep.
“Drop the towel, Mama.”
I hesitate.
I’m not ashamed of my body, exactly. It’s just so different now than it was before.
As my boys have gotten harder and more defined over the years, I’ve been getting softer.
My breasts don’t have the same fullness they once did, and my belly button does this sort of sad frowny thing now after being stretched to the max through three pregnancies.
My c-section scar is still healing from Brendan’s birth, so although it doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s an angry purple with a rough texture—
“Ohio.”
I gasp and nearly drop the damn towel in annoyance.
“Get the fuck over here,” K growls.
I stride toward the bed with a hell of a lot more sass in my step than I possessed thirty seconds ago, ready to put him in his place for using an old nickname I detest. But before I can even open my mouth, he snags the corner of the towel and pulls.
Sitting up straighter, he assesses me thoroughly. “Let me see you,” he murmurs, the fingertips of one hand caressing a path between my tits and down the middle of my stomach.
I track the path of his hand as it trails up and down my body, the reflection of the fire blazing in his dark brown eyes.
“Now look at me.”
Gulping past my insecurities, I lift my head and meet his gaze.
Hunger flares in his gaze as he licks his lips and pulls me to the edge of the bed.
“This body makes four men ravenous.” He kisses my collarbone, one hand still stroking up and down my torso.
“This body grew and carried my four babies.” He kisses the opposite shoulder, hauling me closer still.
“This body is perfect. You’re perfect, Mama.
I fucking love this body. Now get on my cock and let me make you feel good. ”
Grinning, I climb into Kendrick’s lap and relieve him of his boxers.
He’s hard and straining already, solid and firm as I line him up and start to sink down.
“Give it to me sweet and slow, Jojo. Show me what this perfect body can do.”
I take him an inch at a time, reveling in the sensation of our connection as he fills me deeper and deeper. Once he’s buried to the hilt, I clench around him, and he groans.
“That’s my fucking girl.” Holding my sides, he rolls his hips forward and up, meeting me thrust for thrust as I close my eyes and ride him.
Kendrick sits up as I grind down on his cock. He kisses my neck, my chest, each breast. He kisses and savors me like I’m a delicious treat—a luxurious indulgence.
“You feel how hard you make me, Mama? You feel how my cock’s already pulsing and begging to fill you up? Nothing’s ever felt as good as you, Jojo. You’re fucking perfect.”
The door cracks open then, and we freeze.
“Just me,” Kylian calls out before he’s even crossed the threshold. We’ve had more than our fair share of close calls with the kids over the years—we all announce ourselves anytime we enter the bedroom.
I raise up and sink back down on Kendrick, but I watch Kylian’s movements in my periphery as he methodically goes through his usual routine.
He plugs in the baby monitor. Strips out of his clothes.
Digs around in the safe in the side table.
Then rises to his feet, a bottle of lube and one of my favorite vibrators in hand.
Kendrick chuckles low when he takes in the offering.
“Daddy Genius isn’t fucking around tonight.”
Kylian tilts his head, deadpan, then removes his glasses and sets them on the bedside table. “Society puts a lot of pressure on creating joy at Christmastime. This is my contribution to the general merriment of our family.”
“Come play, daddy,” I purr, pushing Kendrick back down into the mattress as I sit up and take him all the way.
I focus on riding Kendrick while Kylian climbs on to the bed and lines himself up behind me. He kisses me everywhere he can reach, teasing my ass to loosen me up at the same time.
“Breathe, baby,” he demands.
It’s the only warning I get before he breaches me.
I cry out, instantly aching for more.
“Fuck. Daddy…”
“I know, baby,” he assures me, his free hand trailing around the front of my body to grip my throat. “I know. I’ll give you what you want. But keep riding K,” he encourages. “Let’s make him feel good tonight.”
Kylian lets Kendrick set the pace, working his cock into my ass a little more each time Kendrick fucks up and fills my cunt. Once they’re both completely buried inside me—consuming me, connecting us together in the most intimate, pleasurable way possible—a pulsing rhythm begins.
My brain doesn’t have time to make sense of the sound before I feel it.
Kylian is pressing the vibrator to my clit.
“Fuck,” Kendrick groans, freezing as he no doubt feels the steady thumping sensation through my body. “Holy fucking shit, Daddy.”
“There it is,” Kylian growls. “You like that, Papi?”
Fuck. Me.
I’ve never heard anything hotter than my boys calling each other nicknames while they double team me.
“I want you to both to come at the same time,” Kylian commands.
“What? I’m too close!” I exclaim, wiggling away from the intensity of the vibrator.
“Ride him, baby. Make our favorite running back feel so fucking good.”
I do as he says, desperate and sloppy as I try to stave off my orgasm.
“That’s it,” Kylian praises. “You’re gonna milk him so hard he forgets he went 105 yards on eleven drives today.”
Kendrick groans again, reaching down to move Kylian’s hand where he wants him.
I groan when I feel their hands come together, working as one to get us all off. The vibrator is still very much on my clit: and yet it feels like we’re all seeking mutual pleasure.
“Fuck. I’m close,” Kendrick warns.
“You heard him, baby. He wants it. He wants you. Come on the cock of a six-time Pro Bowler. Gush for the man who averaged 5.6 yards a run this season.”
I don’t even hear the other stats Kylian spouts off as Kendrick and I detonate in unison.
Kylian comes too, finding his release as soon as Kendrick sinks back onto the bed.
We all slump into a satisfied heap, breathless and panting.
“Holy shit,” I remark, my pussy still pulsating from the intensity of my orgasm.
“Merry Christmas, K,” Kylian declares, rising to his feet and helping me up as well.
I’m not allowed to fall asleep post-sex, no matter how sleepy or sated I feel. I’ve had three UTIs over the course of a decade, and the guys still make a fuss over me.
“Merry fucking Christmas indeed, Daddy Genius.”
“And a happy New Year,” Kylian adds, deadpan, as he guides me to the bathroom.