26. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Noel
W hen I was younger - around twelve or so - we had this dog. The way I remember it, he was my shadow, following me around wherever I went. He slept on my bed, sat with me when I watched television and spent hours with me playing ball in the park opposite our house. I loved him. He was my best friend and so, when on one of those trips to the park, the local bully kicked him, a feeling I had never experienced before engulfed me - burning hot anger. I remember clenching my jaw so hard it ached, but I didn’t react, not right then anyway. Instead, I went home and told my parents what had happened, and they called his parents and spoke to them. Then I went to school and started a rumour about him cheating in a test. He spent so many hours in the principal's office after that I felt vindicated. I know now that wasn’t the best way to handle a bully but, at twelve, I didn’t know better.
After Milo told us everything, from how his mother had died to the way his father had blamed him and spent the rest of his childhood punishing him for it, a spark of that feeling surfaced again. He told us about the abuse and the scars on his back, how his father was now controlling Mia and how he’d spent the last six years working back to back jobs just so he could afford to get away. I was awed by his strength and so proud of him, but at the same time, that spark had grown and I was angry. An anger so powerful I could taste it, maybe something even stronger than that - rage, indignation? Whatever the word was for that feeling you experienced when someone you loved was hurt.
I wanted to tear down his father, burn his fucking world to the ground for what he’d done to Milo. I suggested he press charges but he was too fearful of what would happen to Mia. He asked us to drop the matter, assuring us he wouldn’t go near him again, so we did but it still played on my mind. His father was a bully and he didn’t deserve to get away with it.
Understandably, we were worried about Mia’s safety but Milo assured us his father was manipulative but had never hurt Mia before - not physically anyway. Branson had messaged her that night and, though she wasn’t ready to talk, she confirmed she was safe and that her father had actually left on a work trip for a few days. I’d booked a suite at a hotel near her anyway, and sent over the details in the event she wanted to get away.
A call from the reception desk had Milo jumping up from the sofa where he had been lying with his head on Branson’s lap. It was seven in the evening and we had yet to order any dinner, Milo having been too anxious to eat. Mia had messaged earlier in the day and asked if she could come over to talk.
Moments later, Milo opened the door to Mia. She wore a frown, but it was the small smile playing on her face that had my shoulders relaxing, instantly believing that everything was going to be fine between them.
“Hey, big brother.” She pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, and he responded by pulling her tightly into a hug. Emotion built in my throat and I turned away, catching Branson’s shining eyes.
“Mia,” he said quietly, his face tucked against her brown hair.
“Hi Mia,” I said, standing from my spot on the overstuffed armchair. “We’ll give you two some space to talk.” I moved to reach for Branson’s hand, to drag him up and out of the suite, but Milo stopped me.
“Please stay,” he pleaded, and I looked at Mia who nodded in agreement then back to Milo who was chewing on his bottom lip, his foot tapping nervously on the carpeted floor.
“Of course.” I took the seat next to Branson, taking his hand in mine, while Mia and Milo sat facing each other on opposite armchairs.
An awkward silence had the tension in the room building and my eyes darted between the siblings, waiting for someone to say something. It was Mia who broke the silence and though she was smiling, her words were serious.
“Our dad was wrong, Milo. Not just in what he believed but in everything he said about you. You’re the best brother I could ever have wished for and I don’t blame you for anything that happened when we were kids.”
I watched as Milo’s throat bobbed rapidly, his hands moving restlessly against his knee. I wanted to pull him into my lap, to hold him while he listened to the words he needed to hear.
“Dad never told me exactly what happened to mom, but when he blamed you, I had questions that he refused to answer. I called Aunt Jane and asked her everything that happened that day since I was too young to remember it myself.”
“What did she say?” Milo’s voice was quiet and hesitant, as though he believed their aunt would say exactly the same as his father had.
“She said that mom and our brother died due to a complication with the pregnancy. She'd spoken to mom a few days before - while we were in the Hamptons - and mom mentioned a really bad headache, but told Jane she’d been over doing it since we'd arrived on holiday and was just going to try and stay out of the sun for a bit. There was no way any of us could have known that her blood pressure was dangerously high or that it would affect them the way it did.”
Tears slid down Milo’s cheeks and he pulled his feet onto the chair, hugging his legs to his chest. His breathing was rapid as he rested his head on his knees, his shoulders shaking from a combination of his sobs and the deep breaths he was trying to take. Branson slid off the sofa and stood behind him, wrapping his arms around Milo’s shoulders and kissing his cheek. Seeing the hurt in Milo's eyes when he’d told us his story had brought out an even more doting Branson - if that was possible.
“It’s not your fault, Milo. You need to believe that.” Mia’s own cheeks were streaked with tears, her words punctuated by hiccups. She stood, moving closer to her brother, then pulled him up and into her arms. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry I never chased after you or stood up for you. I’m sorry I didn’t know what dad did to you or the truth so I could have told you all of this a long time ago.”
Milo buried his face in her hair as they cried together. He pulled back, his eyes meeting hers as he shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Mia. It’s all going to be okay, we will be okay.” He kissed her tear streaked cheek and then her forehead and she nodded, wiping away the tears with the back of her arm. Milo’s shoulders straightened and it was as though the weight of the world had visibly lifted from him.
Branson plonked himself down on my lap, and I wrapped my arms around him, nuzzling my nose into his neck while Milo and Mia chatted a little longer. Eventually, Mia had to leave to meet up with her friend in Times Square and Milo walked her down to the lobby. When he returned, his eyes were brighter than they had been in days.
After a long day at work and the emotional meeting with Mia, we were ready to call it a day, climbing into bed after a light dinner just before ten. Lights from the television danced across the walls. It was Milo’s choice of show which was usually marginally better than Branson’s. At least we were not watching something with vampires again. Instead, he had chosen a comedy with some cringey moments that had the three of us laughing out loud. Milo’s laugh was carefree and his whole body seemed more relaxed than before. When we rubbed our hands over his back, near his scars, he no longer tensed and I noticed he spoke about his childhood and his mother openly, something he hadn’t done before.
Thinking of family, I opened my phone, and clicked on the latest message from my mum. I had spoken to her a few times since our last chat and she hadn’t mentioned me coming back to the UK again. But this latest message was a very clear request that’d had my heart in my throat for most of the day.
Mum: Have you given any more thought to moving home? Your dad is too proud to say it, but he needs you closer.
Mum: His appointment went well today. Doctors are pleased with this new medication. We miss you.
Me: Not yet. I miss you too.
What more could I say? Obviously, I wanted to see him and be there to support my parents. But selfishly, I couldn’t leave Branson and Milo. And would they move across the ocean to be with me? Could I even ask that of them? What if I asked and they said no?
So, like a fucking coward, I stuck my head in the sand, knowing full well I wouldn’t have much longer to put it off.
“I think Juliet needs a friend.” Branson’s voice broke me from my thoughts and I turned to him, meeting his smiling face. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with Juliet curled up in his lap. She’d grown massively in the three weeks since Milo had brought her home. She had a healthy appetite and a penchant for clawing the furniture. She also had Branson wrapped around her little paw.
“What makes you think that?” I asked, taking a sip of tea from one of the mugs Milo had given us after our date at the museum - a photo of the three of us after the helicopter ride printed on the side.
“I was just thinking it must get lonely for her being an only child.”
“Was it lonely for you?” I asked. I’d never felt that sort of longing for a sibling - other than the times I wished there was someone else to follow in my father’s footsteps, but I could see how it could be the case for some.
“It was at times but then I met August and he was like a brother to me. So then it wasn’t anymore.” I mulled that over before answering him.
“You’re right, Juliet needs a friend. Let’s find her one.” What was one more member of our little found family?
Milo laughed. “You’re such a pushover,” he joked, and I swatted his thigh playfully. His bruise had morphed into a purplish yellow but he assured us it didn't hurt anymore.
“You’re the one who brought the fleabag home in the first place!”
“Something you didn’t disagree with even the slightest. Such a pushover.” His grin was wide, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“He’s not wrong,” Branson piped up before removing Juliet from his lap. Then he crawled towards me, his hips moving seductively. “I think you’d give us anything we asked for.” Branson winked at Milo and I smelled trouble, the kind that had my dick hardening instantly.
“Is that so?” I played along, slowly falling backwards onto a pillow as Branson crawled over me. “And what is it exactly that you want?”
Branson made a play of thinking about it. Wiggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips before turning to Milo again.
“Milo, babe, what could we possibly want?” I had a feeling my boyfriends knew exactly what they wanted and I was either going to love the idea or…. no, I was sure I would love the idea.
Milo stood from the bed and pulled off his vest, then made quick work of removing his pyjama pants so he was completely naked. He stroked his long, thick cock from base to tip, until it was fully erect.
“To fuck you.” Milo’s grin was positively wicked as he rejoined us on the bed, kissing along my ribs and ghosting his tongue along my pebbling flesh.
I sucked in a breath as Branson leaned over me and bit my earlobe. “Please, daddy?” He asked and I nodded emphatically.
“Fuck yes.” While I usually preferred to top, I enjoyed bottoming too. We’d all discussed our preferences early on in the relationship and established that while Bran and I were vers - Bran with a preference to bottom - Milo was strictly a top. The thought of the two of them, taking me, owning me, stripping me of all responsibility for even an hour thrilled me.
Branson moved lower on the bed and shimmied my sleep shorts down over my hips, freeing my already leaking cock in the process. Then, standing at the foot of the bed, he removed his tiny shorts as he surveyed me from head to toe, his lip twitching up on one side into a grin. Milo came up behind him and wrapped a strong arm around his stomach, biting into the curve of his exposed neck. “This what you want, gorgeous? To bury your cock deep inside our sexy boyfriend? To make him writhe and beg and scream?”
Branson let out a sort of moan-whimper and my mouth watered, my skin tingling with anticipation as Milo trailed his hands down Branson’s smooth chest, along the thin happy trail that started below his navel until he was taking Branson’s engorged cock, flushed a beautiful shade of pink, in his hand.
Milo gave a few languid strokes before letting go and turning Branson around and kissing him, tipping his head to get a better angle. I just lay there, watching, waiting, wanting. When Bran started rutting against Milo’s thigh, Milo stopped him with one final gentle peck to his lips. Cocking his head in my direction he said, “Let’s not keep him waiting any longer, he’s looking a little needy over there.”
Milo was not wrong. During the course of their kiss, I’d taken myself in hand and was stroking with a firm grip, loving the friction on my cock, understanding why Milo was always so keen to be our voyeur.
“Roll over,” Milo started, “Branson's going to get you ready and then I want you on your back so you can watch our beautiful boyfriend fuck you.”
Milo looked to Branson then, giving him directions, taking control the way I knew he liked. Branson wasn't one for being in charge, but he followed orders beautifully, content to listen and act out every word spilling from Milo's lips.
Once I’d rolled onto my front, my knees tucked under me, the bed moved as Branson positioned himself behind me, his hands tenderly kneading the globes of my ass. “That's it, gorgeous. Now get that ass nice and wet for us,” Milo instructed and Branson shifted, pulling my cheeks apart, and breathing against my sensitive hole.
Heat simmered along my skin at the action, at Milo's words, and at the predatory gaze I’d seen in his eyes. The anticipation had reached a crescendo, practically vibrating through me. I was about to beg, to plead for something, anything but had barely opened my mouth when Branson’s warm, velvety tongue found my puckered entrance. My eyes rolled and I groaned, burying my face into the sheets. They smelled like a heady mixture of all of us - sweat, pepper, mint, citrus and something sweet that was all Branson.
“That's it Bran, keep going.” Milo's voice was smooth as honey as he directed Branson, who feasted on me like I was dessert. Licking and biting and thrusting his tongue into my hole, he growled as he devoured me, his hands gripping my cheeks in a bruising hold. He spat against my hole then licked over it, before pressing in again.
Pleasure, light and feathery, built at the base of my spine and I relaxed into the sensation. “Fuck, you taste so good. Sweet and salty, like a fucking treat,” Branson moaned.
Feeling the bed dip again, I presumed Milo had taken up a position next to him. I knew I was right when he ran a finger along my softened hole. “Hmmm, nice and sloppy, just the way I like it. Good boy.”
A moment later, cold liquid dribbled down my crease and then eager fingers were there, prodding at my softened entrance. “Stretch him, let him feel you.” Another direction from Milo and a low rumble in response from Branson.
I turned my head to the side, my cheek pressing to the soft sheets as Branson pushed a finger into me, breaching the tight ring of muscle. The feeling of his slim finger in my channel had my body buzzing, racing to a peak that was still too far from reach.
“More, give me more, kitten. Your finger feels so good. Give me more, I want to feel full.” Aware that I was starting to ramble, a habit I had when aroused, I bit my bottom lip hard enough to hit me with a bolt of pain.
“Uh uh,” Milo admonished, “You don’t get to call the shots tonight, I'm in charge. Branson will give you as much as I tell him to.” The grin that twitched at my lips was unstoppable, amused at the bossiness in his tone.
“Give him more,” Milo said and though it was always a struggle for me to give up control, to let someone else lead, as Branson pressed in a second and then a third finger, brushing against that sweet spot as he went in knuckle deep, I surrendered, turning pliant in his hands.
Vaguely aware of the sound of grunting and whimpering, a heated flush crept up my cheeks at the realisation that the noises were coming from me. “Fuck me, the sounds you make are delicious,” Milo said, moving to stand next to the bed, stroking his impressive erection while keeping his gaze locked on the place where Branson was slowly stretching me open.
I needed more, so much more. After twisting his fingers, brushing tortuously against my prostate, Branson pulled out and tapped me on the thigh.
“He's so ready for us,” his breathy voice sounded from behind me and Milo hummed in approval.
“On your back,” Milo ordered. My body was warm, flushed all over as I spun around and landed flatly on my back, lifting my legs in invitation. He spoke to Branson then, his voice soft but no less commanding. “Fuck him. Give our boyfriend everything he needs. Everything you've got.”
A few seconds later, the blunt head of Branson's cock nudged at my entrance, and I bared down as he pushed inside with one quick jerk of his hips. My body welcomed him, relaxing as he pulled out partially then slammed back.
“You’re so tight and hot. I’m gonna fuck you hard. You can take it, can’t you, daddy?” For some reason, I’d expected Branson to take me slowly, reverently, but he didn’t, instead he leaned forward grabbed my thighs with his nails digging in and fucked me mercilessly - giving me everything he had just as Milo had directed. And holy shit, my kitten was feral, clawing at my skin as he pounded into me with hard, rough movements.
Milo moved to the top of the bed, stopping when his hips and swollen cock were in line with my face. Turning towards him, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, licking at the hot underside before he held the back of my neck with one hand and guided himself into my mouth. As Branson fucked into me without restraint, Milo fucked my mouth with the same punishing rhythm. My head was hazy, my body trembling as these two perfect men, my perfect men used me for their pleasure. I was overwhelmed by them, lost in them and it was fan-fucking-tastic. Milo pulled back with a gasp, squeezing the base of his dick. “As much as I’d love to watch you gulp down my cum, I’m coming in your fine ass tonight, Blue.” Swallowing thickly, I felt the ache in my throat he’d left behind.
Branson released my thighs and on instinct, I wrapped my legs around his waist. His movements slowed as he tipped forward and Milo met him halfway above me, their lips coming together. His thrusts were less powerful than before but just as deep, lighting me up as he bumped against that spot inside me, sparks igniting in my blood. Milo and Branson didn’t break away, instead, they held their lips against each other, sharing a breath as Branson’s movements stuttered and he pulled out and unloaded over my lower stomach.
A breathless, sweaty mess, Branson threw himself down on the bed next to me and I turned onto my side to face him. “That was…. you were…. incredible,” he purred. We kissed gently, our tongues taking turns to explore each other’s mouths as Branson’s hands toyed with my nipple piercing, twisting and pulling at it.
The bed dipped and the heat of Milo’s body brushed against me as he slid into position behind me, the light hair on his thighs tickling as he lifted my leg and placed it over Branson's hip.
Milo's fingers traced the area between my cheeks, tenderly caressing, dipping in only a fraction before retreating. “This hole is stretched so beautifully. Just waiting for me. Hmmm,” he groaned, then pushed his cock into me.
Milo was gentler than Branson - to start anyway - slowly pushing in then pulling out, then repeating the action. “Fuck, this is nice. Your ass is perfection, squeezing me, choking my cock. You're our perfect fuck toy, aren’t you?”
The dirty talk did me in and I kissed Branson hungrily, biting and pulling on his bottom lip. “I really need to come,” I moaned into his mouth. Branson released my now throbbing nipple and slid his hand down, taking my cock into his hand, stroking and twisting. “Just like that, yes.” As Milo increased his momentum, he pushed me so I was half lying on Branson and then he fucked me, hard. There was no doubt in my mind that I would feel this in the morning, but I’d welcome the memory. The memory of them using me, adoring me, kissing me.
Loving me.
Branson released my cock and I whimpered at the loss of his touch, but as Milo pressed me further onto him, the change in position had it rubbing against his firm stomach and the friction was just what I needed. My eyes closed as bolts of bliss twisted and fizzled to the surface. Branson took my cheeks in his hands and in a quiet voice demanded, “Look at me.” My eyes shot open, capturing his and I came with a shout, rocking my body against him to chase that final shot of release.
“Shit, you’re choking my cock so tightly. I love feeling you come on my cock.”
“Fill me up, paint me, mark me up, make me yours,” I babbled on. Milo moved inside me with a few more steady strokes before coming with my name on his lips. He pulled out, and seconds later his finger was at my hole, toying with his release. I hissed at the overstimulation and he retreated, falling to lie in an exhausted heap next to me.
Turning onto my back, I lifted my arms and pulled them both so their heads rested on my chest. Branson's hand played with the hair there while Milo lay his arm over my stomach so he could touch us both. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the sounds of our heavy breathing.
“Mine,” I said before placing a kiss on each of their sweaty heads. I would follow you to the ends of the earth , I thought, would you follow me too?
“And you’re ours, don’t ever forget that,” Branson replied, his voice sugary and sleepy.
How could I ever forget that, after the imprint they’d both left on my heart?
Was it too soon to tell them I loved them? Because I did, I was as certain as I had ever been of anything.
“Hey Noel?” Branson’s quiet voice broke through my thoughts. “Can you read my dad’s letter to me?” Emotion welled in my throat and I swallowed it down. Milo and I had heard snippets of the letter but Branson had never let us read it before. This felt big and my heart warmed at what it meant.
“Sure, Kitten. Anything you want.”
He reluctantly dragged himself from bed, his movements slow as he retrieved it, handing it to me then snuggled back in the bed. Gently unfolding the letter, I read each word out loud, moisture pooling in my eyes at the immense love that poured from the pages. “He loved you so much, Branson.”
He sniffled against my naked chest, “He did. I just hope I managed to live up to his expectations.”
Milo’s hand reached for Branson before he mumbled softly. “You’re the most amazing person I know. I’m certain he’d be so proud of you.”
Once I was done reading, I placed the letter safely on the side table then fell asleep with the loves of my life in my arms.