Chapter 48
“Damn, you look good together.”
Kit sat up and yanked his shirt off. “I want Bishop first.”
“Okay, fair.” James clapped Bishop on the shoulder. “Need any pointers? How long has it been?”
Bishop settled on the edge of the bed, rubbing shoulders with Darius. He didn’t touch Kit, but his heated gaze was palpable. Foot hitched up on his knee, he started unlacing his shoes, and fuck, how was that so hot? Like Bishop was unlacing his shoes at Kit.
“I think I remember how this works,” Bishop said, moving to his other shoe. “Do you have condoms?”
Kit squashed his unreasonable disappointment. “In the bathroom. I think? Maybe?”
“I can grab them,” Darius said, without budging. If anything, his grip on Kit’s ankles tightened. “But if you’re clear, Bishop, Kit would rather skip them. He likes it messy.”
“Shut up,” Kit complained, feeling very seen. The good kind of embarrassment. “I’m trying to be respectful.”
Bishop slid one rough hand over Kit’s stomach. “I’m clear. But I still need—” James shoved a half-empty bottle of lube in front of his face, and Bishop adjusted mid-sentence. “—you to pick how I’m fucking you.”
Today was about trusting his own desires. Kit already had the slow, face-to-face unraveling with Bishop. Now he wanted to be overpowered. Surrounded.
“Let me turn over,” Kit told Darius, who chuckled and released his ankles. Even Holden cooperated, moving to the side without complaint. Kit twisted onto his hands and knees. His fingers dug into the plush bedding, and delicious nerves fluttered in his stomach.
Turning his back felt vulnerable in the best way. Kit didn’t need to constantly watch over his shoulder anymore. The demon from his past was dead. Extremely, thoroughly dead. More importantly, he had these incredible, dedicated men watching out for him.
They might be monsters, but they were his monsters.
Bishop crowded behind Kit. Rough jeans scraped Kit’s bare ass and thighs.
A firm hand settled over Kit’s tailbone, as if there were any chance of Kit fleeing.
The possessive gesture was reassuring. So was Darius’s grip sliding into Kit’s hair, as Darius knelt to Kit’s right.
From just the corner of Kit’s eye, he could see Holden on Darius’s other side, silent and intent on Kit alone.
James was on Kit’s left. The constant commentary kicked off as he traced the taut lines of Kit’s body. “Damn, you look good like this, babe. All exposed for us. Such a good little bad boy. Can’t wait to wreck that pretty mouth again, but I’ll wait for—”
Slick, cool fingers massaged into Kit’s hole. He tensed, then relaxed, pushing into it. Christ, if Bishop took much longer, Kit was going to—
Bishop shoved two thick fingers right inside.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Kit whined, breathless, rocking back. Pleasure sizzled, leaving sparks in his vision. “Like that. No, more.”
“I know you’re ready,” Bishop said, with far too much restraint. “But your tight little hole isn’t.”
James chuckled. “Greedy little slut. How many minutes can Bishop finger you before you start to cry, you want his cock so bad?”
Ugh. The idea was tempting as fuck. But maybe for another day. Kit needed a cock inside him too much right now.
“You have thirty seconds before I stab someone,” Kit gasped.
“I’ll grab a knife,” Holden said helpfully.
Bishop’s fingers withdrew, leaving Kit empty and wanting. “No need to stab anyone,” Bishop said, cockhead nudging Kit’s hole.
Before Kit could tense with anticipation, Bishop speared him to the core.
Kit gasped, every breath electric. Bishop thrust in fast, hard, without holding back, exactly how Kit wanted. Just enough lube slapped between them to let Bishop effortlessly shape Kit’s body around his rutting cock.
Overwhelmed, complete, Kit arched into the sensation. “Oh, fuck. Like that. Fuck.”
That was the most he could move. Darius held him firmly by the hair, and Bishop’s grasp was blazing iron around his hips.
God. Kit couldn’t believe he and Bishop had waited so long for this.
Except maybe that was a good thing. They waited until they were ready.
Until Kit was free of the dark memories shackling him—ready for brand-new, irresistible, glorious shackles.
“Damn, you look good together,” James said smugly, as if he was taking credit for all of this.
Maybe he should, since he was the one who first brought up sharing.
Though he couldn’t have imagined how far Kit would take that permission.
James slung an arm over Darius’s shoulder.
At least, Kit thought that was what he was doing.
From his angle, Kit couldn’t see much beyond James’s bare, muscular thighs and straining cock.
The heat of his exposed skin tickled Kit’s lungs.
“Isn’t his ass incredible?” James continued. “Give it a slap now and then. Or twist his nipples. He might come just from that.”
Bishop’s startled laugh didn’t slow him at all. “Do you ever get used to the commentary, Darius?”
“What were you expecting?” Darius asked, yanking Kit’s head up. “You’ve hooked up with James before.”
Bishop rocked deeper into Kit. Over Kit’s groan of painful delight, Bishop said, “James was quiet for me. Might have been my cock in his mouth.”
“I can talk with a cock in my mouth.” James’s hand joined the tangle of Kit’s hair. A sharper, less steadying grasp than Darius’s. “You’re just not as fun to talk to as my slutty little boyfriend.”
Something heavy thumped across the room, followed by a metallic jingle. Holden had been quiet for too long. Kit couldn’t interrogate him, though, because James was nudging Darius out of the way.
“Speaking of mouths, open up, babe.”
Kit swallowed hard. James was fully nude, which Kit approved of. But that exposed the bruises, stark and blue against the golden tan of his chest, where he’d hit the dashboard through the airbag. Guilt and gratitude and love twisted sharp behind Kit’s ribs.
“Are you really okay?” Kit asked, then rolled his eyes at James’s leer. “Yeah, yeah, the only cure is fucking my pretty little mouth.”
“You said it, beautiful,” James said, and angled his cockhead against Kit’s lips.
Kit opened eagerly. Bishop cooperated by slowing to a grind. His cock still painted Kit’s nerves with incredible fire, but Kit wasn’t at risk of biting down accidentally.
Not that Kit was responsible if he did. James was clearly in charge of this blowjob, prying Kit’s lips wider with his thumb even though Kit was already opening his mouth. James’s tip slid past Kit’s wet lips, smearing salty precum all over Kit’s tongue.
Pulse pounding from his heart to the tips of his fingers, Kit closed his eyes in happy surrender. Enough running. Enough looking over his shoulder. Enough burying emotions that hurt too much to feel.
Kit wasn’t afraid, and he wanted to feel everything his men could possibly give him.
James was still rambling sweet obscenities overhead, with occasional commentary from Darius and Bishop. Holden stayed quiet, but the mattress dipped, and that was definitely Holden’s hand exploring the trembling muscles of Kit’s back.
There was that metallic sound again. Mostly muffled by the slam of the headboard against the wall. They should fix that somehow. Later.
Kit’s jaw ached, and saliva dripped down his chin.
He was a mess, and it felt fucking amazing.
One of Bishop’s hands left Kit’s hip, bracing instead against the mattress.
Bishop bowed over, his shirt sticking to Kit’s flushed back.
Each thrust became short, harsh, barely withdrawing before slamming in.
Kit’s nerves sang with deafening pleasure.
“I’m close,” Bishop said, low and rough and somehow slipping past James’s chatter.
Kit could only moan in answer.
Moments later, Bishop shuddered to a halt inside Kit. A growl ripped from his throat, echoing in Kit’s lungs. Heat painted Kit’s guts, his own arousal surging with Bishop’s finish.
“Fuck,” James gasped, which was Kit’s only warning before another load of cum poured down his throat.
Spluttering, Kit tried to swallow it all. He could have, totally, if he wasn’t so overwhelmed. Nobody was even touching his cock, and he was trembling out of his skin.
As Kit suckled messily, Bishop withdrew. Kit clenched down on the absence, his greedy hole desperate for more. But he could barely breathe, much less beg. James ground against his lips, smearing cum and spit all over.
“My turn,” Darius said from behind. “James, are you done suffocating him?”
“Five more seconds,” James said, sounding breathless himself. “Fuck, I could live in your mouth.”
True to word, he lingered. He wasn’t cutting off Kit’s air, but excitement was a vise around Kit’s lungs. He had to remember to take each shallow breath through his nose. When James finally yanked out, Kit gasped, the rush of air exhilarating.
A heavy hand grasped his shoulder. The world flipped, and Kit landed back on the tangled bedding. An awkward fold of duvet pressed beneath his hip. Darius loomed over him, rapt and ravenous.
“Hello there, pretty boy,” Darius said, his grin a blinding flash.
Kit stretched beneath him, each inch of bare skin tingling beneath all four men’s gazes. “Don’t make me wait today. I want it. Now.”
“What do you want?” Darius asked, sliding a hand under Kit’s ass. A trail burned behind Kit’s thigh, up to the crook of his knee. “Ask nicely.”
Kit hooked his legs over Darius’s hips, exposing himself and pulling Darius closer. “I want your goddamn cock. Pretty fucking please.”
Hitching Kit’s ass higher, Darius notched his cockhead against Kit’s hole. He paused, just a second but it felt like an eternity of Kit’s tender muscle flexing against him. Then he shoved in through the mess of lube and Bishop’s cum.
Kit threw his head back, vision blurring. He’d begged for this, and it was so much, and it was so fucking good. Incredible how four different men could fit so perfectly inside him. Like he was made for all of them. Like they were made for him.