Chapter 23
“I want you to be able to say no for this.”
The blind journey through the house was delightfully bumpy. Kit found himself pressed against unfamiliar walls, opening his mouth for teasing kisses. Clothing shed, shoes tugged off. Darius and James undressed him, with no help from Kit—he was too busy holding onto whoever was in reach.
Always grasping, always greedy.
Wooden bars pressed into his back. The stair railing. Kit arched against Darius, whose body felt far more substantial than mere wood. All Kit had on were his briefs, strained with his aching cock. Darius was still fully dressed, clothing rubbing against Kit’s bare skin.
Breath heated Kit’s lips. Dizziness jolted his heart. How many steps had they taken up? How far a drop was it, if Kit leaned over the edge?
But Darius’s hands were too firm around Kit’s waist to let him fall.
“You’re taking too fucking long,” James complained.
Darkness lurched. Kit yelped as he was hoisted onto James’s shoulder. No protest from Darius, just a low chuckle. Kit scrabbled to brace himself on James’s back, while strong hands massaged through his briefs.
“Don’t fucking drop me,” Kit warned, breathless.
James tugged the edge of Kit’s underwear. “You’d land on Darius anyway.”
“Don’t use me to murder Darius,” Kit amended, trying not to wriggle.
Both of them laughed, and James’s steps evened out. They were safely upstairs.
“There is a bed, right?” Darius asked.
James patted Kit’s ass. “The rooms are all furnished. We can switch things out with our own stuff once we divide the bedrooms. Here.”
Footsteps. Hinges. Fig and sandalwood air freshener.
Every sense heightened in the darkness. The world spun again, and Kit landed heavy on plush bedding.
The bed was cold, but the man leaning over him was blazing hot.
Movement pulled the blindfold, enough for light to bloom beneath the edge before Kit tugged it back into place.
“Good boy,” James murmured, sliding Kit’s underwear away. “Darius, you got the lube?”
A zipper. Someone’s fly or—probably a bag. Something landed on the bed. James’s fingers returned wet to Kit’s stomach. Slickness teased Kit’s bellybutton.
Fuck, that shouldn’t feel that good. Kit had been learning a lot about his own sexuality, but ‘could possibly come from navel fingering’ was new.
James shoved one of Kit’s thighs up, firm hand beneath his knee, spreading him open. Kit bucked into nothing, then again at the first touch on his needy hole.
“He looks so fucking good,” Darius said, and those words pried Kit open as much as James’s fingers.
Incredible, how this one point of contact unraveled all Kit’s nerves. He wasn’t worried about moving in together. How this would change their relationship. In bed, skin to skin, the setting didn’t matter.
Three fingers dove in easily.
“You first?” James asked, cruelly avoiding Kit’s prostate.
So, they were planning on taking turns. Kit liked the sound of that.
“Not turning down this tight little ass.” Darius’s voice drew closer, and the mattress tilted. “Any requests before I fuck your brains out, brat?”
Considerate. Kit took a gasping moment to think. He wanted to be restrained. To give up all responsibility. “Um. Can you gag me? Or handcuff me? Or both?”
“So greedy,” James murmured.
“No gags today,” Darius said, which was disappointing, until he added, “I want you to be able to say no to this.”
“Fucking Christ,” Kit breathed. “Why is that so hot?”
James withdrew his hand from Kit’s ass, making up for the loss with a firm pat. Almost a slap. “Because you’re a kinky little fuck. Are the cuffs in the bag, D?”
The mattress shifted more as James slid away, and Darius moved closer. “Yeah. Grab the clamps too.” A sharp tweak to Kit’s nipple. “If that’s all right, boy?”
The pinch made Kit’s toes curl. “Fuck. Yes.”
Kit was lifted until broad thighs replaced the bedding beneath him. He slid into Darius’s lap, savoring the familiar musk. But his wandering hands couldn’t wander very far before Darius caught his wrists.
One or both secured the cuffs. Cold metal was as grounding as ever. Kit sank into the sensation, beautifully muddled.
Until someone pinched his right nipple—the only warning before the sharper bite.
“Fuck,” Kit hissed, instinctively flinching back, even as his cock jumped with excitement. Rubber-tipped metal dug into his tender flesh, sharper with every squirm.
“Hold still,” James said.
Kit’s nerves crawled with blind anticipation. Three agonizing breaths before the second clamp bit down.
“Should have done that with your cock in him.” James toyed with the clamps. “I bet he clenched down hard.”
“He’ll squirm enough for me,” Darius said, lying down. Rough hands lifted Kit. “You ready?”
“Yes,” Kit breathed. “Yes, yes—ah!”
Sinking onto Darius’s cock was always a revelation. The massive head split him open so fucking good.
Then Kit rocked forward and sank down again.
Riding on top wasn’t Kit’s favorite position. Sue him, he didn’t like doing all the work. But each bounce jostled the clamps, igniting fresh pleasure-pain. Sensation radiated from his abused nipples to his slick, full ass.
His cock jumped with every movement too. Dripping precum intensified the feeling of air on skin. The chain between his wrists clinked as he braced himself against Darius’s chest.
Two pairs of hands slid up Kit’s ribs, along his hips, sometimes urging his thighs up, sometimes ruthlessly shoving him down.
James was just as close as Darius, a possessive presence at Kit’s back.
Biting Kit’s shoulder. Tugging the clamps.
Cupping his leaking cock and never quite stroking hard enough.
“Before or after he comes, do you think?” James asked over Kit’s shoulder.
The question didn’t really make sense, but Darius answered, “Before. This time. He gets so sensitive.”
“What are we doing before I come?” Kit asked, muddled.
He tried to rock up, but Darius pinned him down, speared in place. James’s fingers returned, freshly wet in Kit’s crack. He pushed against Kit’s rim, stretched around Darius’s huge cock.
“Perfect little slut,” James said sweetly. “Can you take both of us at once?”
Kit’s entire body tensed, pulling a low groan from Darius. He was already so full. It sounded impossible.
But he wanted to be their perfect little slut.
“I don’t know,” Kit managed. “But I’d love to find out.”
“I believe in you,” Darius said, supportive and filthy, and pulled Kit down over his body. “I’ll take the clamps off first.”
“If you have to,” Kit complained, squirming persuasively. He wanted the clamps on—but this was why he was willing to try impossible things. Because he trusted James and Darius to guide him. They were trying something new and intimidating, and Darius wanted to reduce distractions.
So, the clamps came off. Darius eased them off carefully, but all the care didn’t reduce the pain of the blood rushing back in. Kit whimpered, hissing profanities.
The sting lingered as James’s slick finger pushed past his rim.
“Oh my god.” Kit clenched involuntarily, which only heightened the stretch. “Fucking hell.”
It wasn’t bad. That might be the most overwhelming part. His body liked it so much.
“Sorry, babe,” James said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’ll be easier if you relax.”
“We’ll take our time,” Darius added, which sounded more like a threat than a promise.
Kit had almost composed himself when James’s finger moved. That was when Kit gave up, devolving into a mess of moaning nerves. Each soothing noise fucked into him too.
James and Darius weren’t talking past him now. They were talking to him, making sure he was okay, telling him how good and pretty and hot he was. How beautifully filthy. That was more overwhelming than the second finger pushing in.
Darius wasn’t moving, except when James’s fingers and Kit’s clenching forced a reflexive thrust. His voice deepened. Every time he twitched, Kit’s own cock twitched in reaction.
Kit was surrounded. Owned. Protected. Everything was perfect.
Almost perfect. If Holden was here, and…
Not Bishop. Kit was still mad at Bishop.
Almost perfect was incredible enough, and Kit slowly relaxed into the overwhelming stretch and pleasure. No more urgency. Just darkness, warmth, trust. Gentle lips against the blindfold.
“He’s ready,” Darius rasped.
James’s voice was unsteady in Kit’s ear. “Kit?”
“Yeah.” Kit took a deep breath. “Ready.”
The mattress shifted as James adjusted his position. His chest burned against Kit’s back—then he settled, straddling Darius’s thighs behind Kit.
Thick fingers twisted inside Kit, before hooking up. Pulling. Kit whined, eyes stinging with overwhelm, as James’s cock pushed at the gap. It wouldn’t fit. It couldn’t fit.
“Let me in, Kit,” James murmured, and Kit’s body obeyed, relaxing just enough.
James thrust in, knocking all the breath from Kit’s lungs.
Darkness bloomed into radiant fire. Kit hadn’t truly believed this was possible. He’d known intellectually—or not so intellectually—that double penetration was possible, of course. He’d watched porn.
But that was different from truly believing James and Darius could both fit inside him. Part of him had been braced for a painful accident they would laugh about later.
He hadn’t been prepared for success. Spread open, so full his chest felt tight, every nerve singing. This was good.
So much, but good.
“You all right?” Darius growled with feral intensity.
“Yeah,” Kit managed, just as strained.
James trembled behind him. “Fucking hell, this is…” He trailed off, fingers ghosting along Kit’s flanks.
Then he rocked in, and Kit whined with impossible stimulation.
Sweat dripped between heated skin. It didn’t matter whose. Kit shook with each thrust. His own cock was only half-hard, caught between the overwhelm of penetration and the constant pressure on his prostate. Like he was chained just beneath the threshold of orgasm.
Kit felt closer to both of them than ever before.
“Fuck,” Darius growled. “I’m not going to last.”
“Don’t try to last.” Kit’s breath staggered from his lungs. He was pinned too thoroughly to move between them. “Just come inside me. Both of you.”
“That’s the plan,” James panted, grip tightening on Kit’s hips.
Nothing changed from one moment to the next. Just the breath from close to there. Darius tensed—and his cock throbbed inside Kit.
Each pulse felt massive against Kit’s stretched rim. He drank in every sound, the heady scent surrounding him in the blindfolded dark.
James swore, voice ragged. His hips stilled. The moment felt like eternity. Like Kit’s soul was a drop of water clinging to its cloud.
Then James slipped out, and Kit plummeted to earth. His hole clenched down as James pulled him off Darius. Dizzy, needy. So awfully empty until thick fingers filled his gaping hole. Another hand closed around his cock.
Kit was so far gone, he couldn’t tell whose hand was where. All he knew was that he was so in love with both of them.
Tears stung with the force of his orgasm.
Afterwards, nestled between them, Kit sighed. “Okay, you win. Moving in together sounds great. Do we have to wait until James sells his house?”
James and Darius both laughed.
“You don’t have to wait for anything,” James assured him. “I’ll call the movers as soon as you let me out of bed.”
“So, never,” Kit said, cuddling closer.
They both laughed again. Horrible men.
Getting railed by two of his stupidly tall boyfriends had perks. These perks included not having to help carry any more boxes. Kit got to curl up in an armchair downstairs, fiddling with his phone as he supervised James and Darius’s efforts.
Gingerly, tenderly curled up.
James and Darius were right. A house felt more like a home after kinky sex.
“—can put a bed down there,” James was saying as he walked through with another box. “It’ll be totally humane.”
“We’re not locking Holden in the basement,” Kit said, without looking up from his phone.
“Spoilsport,” James said with a sigh, moving into the kitchen.
Bedroom allocation was going to be interesting. Kit wanted to sleep with all three of them all the time, but he wasn’t naive. Sharing too much space for too long would get someone killed. Besides, Kit liked his alone time, too.
That was a concern for later, though, as a text notification slid distractingly across his screen.
Devoted Admirer: hello sweetheart!!!
Devoted Admirer: just got out of class, missing you the whole time
Kit: gross
Devoted Admirer: can’t wait to see you again!!! did d and j already fuck you in the new house?
Kit: maybe
Devoted Admirer: you’ll have to tell me all about it ;) btw i finished looking at j’s scrapbooks
The change of subject was jarring. Holden wouldn’t interrupt his own shameless flirting for frivolous reasons. Kit had to think before remembering the scrapbooks from James’s dad. Friends, family, events, a snapshot of daily life that might hold a clue.
Kit: have you told james yet
Devoted Admirer: not yet
Kit: did you find something????
A pause before Holden’s reply.
Devoted Admirer: nothing dramatic. a few faces j should look into. just wanted to tell you first in case you think we should loop B in
Kit frowned. Of course James would loop Bishop in—no. James deliberately hid the Terry operation from Bishop. Which Kit had been happy about, since he was mad at Bishop for the egregious crime of being suspicious of Kit’s suspicious background.
This text conversation was Holden’s subtle way of saying he disagreed with that policy.
Kit: you think james is too impulsive
Kit: you do remember you drugged and kidnapped me once
No pause here. Holden’s reply was instant and shameless.
Devoted Admirer: that wasn’t impulsive, that was meticulously planned and calculated
Devoted Admirer: your call. I don’t care about J getting in trouble. Just you
Maybe someday Holden would get along well with the others. That would be adorable. Or terrifying. Right now, Kit shared Holden’s concerns. And Holden was right. Kit, Holden, and Darius weren’t enough to rein James in if he lost control.
Kit: wait until tomorrow to show james what you found
Kit: i’ll invite bishop over
Holden’s answer was a string of heart emojis. Then a truly filthy account of what he wanted to do to Kit later.
Kit shifted uncomfortably in the armchair and muted Holden’s thread. Just for a minute. He didn’t want those thoughts heating his mind as he texted Bishop.
Kit: are you free tomorrow night?
Kit: new house, same traditional grownup playdate—pizza, beer, and planning crimes