Chapter Six
Ronan
Liam brought home a mountain of food—tacos and burritos.
Typically, our takeout orders are large because we have nine mouths to feed, but this is insane.
Seven takeout bags later, the kitchen island and dining room table are covered, every inch, with food of some sort.
All the kids are eating burritos decently in peace until Liam flicks a spoonful of beans at Jackson.
He gives Liam a wicked smile as he does the same, nailing him right in the forehead.
Naturally, the Graves twins think this is hilarious and begin grabbing handfuls of food, tossing them at anyone and everyone.
When Brooks gets an eyeful of sour cream, I decide to call it.
“Alright, we’re done. Enough!” I snap at Liam, who’s still throwing food.
He pauses, looking at me with a guilty smile. Rolling my eyes, I smack the back of his head as I take a bite of my food and point my fork at him. “You’re a bad influence, so you’ll be cleaning up this mess.”
Liam’s eyes go wide the way the kids’ do when they’re outraged by something. “C’mon—that’s not fair. I was just messing around!”
“Liam, you’re almost twenty-eight years old,” Skyla scoffs, laughing as she shakes her head.
He shrugs like he couldn’t care less how old he is before he starts eating some of the food on the table. The Graves twins grin before they begin doing the same. Seraphina watches them carefully before going back to her own meal.
“I need a drink,” I mutter as I stand.
“Get me one too, Daddy!” Liam calls out.
“No,” I answer flatly. “Blake? Would you like something? Beer? Wine? Tequila?”
Skyla laughs as Blake shakes her head.
“No, thank you.”
“You sure?” I ask as I pour myself a Scotch.
She pauses for a moment before giving me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
I nod as I take my seat once more, wrapping my arm around the back of Skyla’s chair as she and Blake dive into talking about growing up in Chicago, where Blake’s originally from, versus London.
The kids are all shouting and laughing. Things feel good in this moment.
At least, I think I’m supposed to feel that way.
I can’t help this gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach that we’ve welcomed a shitstorm by opening the door to them all.
Though, if what Vincent says is true, and the Graves brothers’ reputations bear no falsities…
I’m not sure we would have made it had we turned them down.
A pair of hands come to rest on my shoulders, massaging them and startling me.
My eyes land on the culprit. Wesley of course.
“You okay, Ro?”
I nod as he chuckles, lowering his mouth to my ear.
“You need to relax. Everything will be okay. They seem to be in a bind, and there are more of us than them. We don’t need to worry—”
“It’s my job to worry,” I hiss back at him, causing Blake and Skyla’s conversation to cease.
I give them an apologetic look before turning to look up at Wesley, who’s continuing to knead my shoulders. He stares down at me with one eyebrow lifted in challenge.
“Sorry,” I mutter before shaking my head.
Once again, he leans down to whisper to me, his lips dragging against my ear as he does.
“You’re only allowed to speak to me like that in the bedroom. Anywhere else, unacceptable.”
I turn to see no irritation or frustration on his face. Instead, he’s giving me a goading smile like he wants me to argue or fight back just so he can prove me wrong.
“Later,” I say lowly, causing a smile to curve Wesley’s lips as Skyla moves to stand. We both look towards her as she starts off towards the garage.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“The kids want more juice, and we ran out in the house.”
“I’ll get it,” I say and stand, following after her.
“It’s fine, Ronan,” she calls over her shoulder as she continues.
She steps through the threshold into the garage as I quickly follow behind her, looping my arms around her and pulling her back to me.
“You need to slow down. That’s what we’re all here for—things like this.”
She smiles, shaking her head as she looks up at me. “You’re not my servants, and I’m perfectly capable of grabbing some juice.”
I spin her around to face me, slipping one hand behind her neck as my gaze drills into hers.
“It’s not about what you’re capable of, baby.
We all know you’re capable of so much. You’re incredible.
It’s about letting us take care of our wife, the mother of our children, the love of each of our lives. ”
She smiles at me softly before lifting her hand and cupping my cheek.
Her fingertips brush against the side of my eyes, where my age is absolutely starting to show.
I’m over ten years older than her, and while that’s by no means old, I feel the stresses of our life catching up to me.
I know that I’ll go gray in no time. Skyla and Wes both say they can’t wait for me to be a silver daddy.
I, however, have reservations about such things.
“You’re worried,” she states.
“Of course. There are strangers in our home, in our winter cabin. They’re at our table, with our kids. Everything feels extremely out of control thanks to Griggs.”
Skyla’s eyes narrow at me as her hold on my face stiffens. “You’re seriously blaming this on Vincent? He was given a choice: life with a favor or death. He chose life; he chose me. He chose… How can you say that?”
I know she’s right, but goddamnit, I need someone to blame. I need something to fix. I can’t be this useless. I’m the fixer—I put things back together; I find solutions. Right now, I can’t do shit, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.
“I’m sorry. I know—I know it’s not his fault. I just…” I trail off, shaking my head when I feel Skyla pull my face to hers.
I go easily, like I always do. With Skyla, there’s never any choice: being near her, it’s like breathing for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s relief and peace and undiluted bliss.
Her lips brush mine, and slowly, the tension in my shoulders eases, at least for a moment. Her tongue swirls against my own, and I pull back, resting my forehead against hers.
“What are you looking to start here, baby?”
She blinks up at me, her big, beautiful green eyes staring at me with the picture of innocence, but that’s not what her dirty fucking mouth conveys.
“Just trying to relieve Daddy’s stress. Is it working?”
My cock hardens in an instant at that, a low growl rumbling in my chest.
“You want Daddy to fuck you, baby?”
Skyla’s teeth sink into her lower lip as she nods. In half a second, I’m on my knees, yanking down her leggings and tossing them to the other side of the garage before my face is buried between her legs.
Her gasp is sharp as she buries her hand in my hair, pulling me closer as she moans. “Oh fuck!”
My tongue swirls around her clit as she pants and wiggles against me. She tastes so goddamn sweet. Like my favorite treat that I could never tire of.
I release her with a wet-sounding pop and stand, pulling my cock out of my pants before lifting her up into my arms. I sink her down onto me slowly, and she mewls as she tosses her head back.
“Shhh,” I mutter as I rest my forehead against hers. “We have company. You don’t want the Graves brothers to find Daddy fucking you, do you?”
She whimpers at that, shaking her head.
“Stay quiet for me, baby. We’re gonna make this nice and fast,” I say as I begin slowly thrusting into her, picking up speed with each thrust until we’re both fucking feral.
I take a few steps towards the wall and press her against it so I have better control. Once her back is flush, I roll my hips, pushing the head of my cock against her G-spot in a way that has her eyes fluttering.
“Oh my—”
I cut her words off by pressing my mouth against hers, and our tongues battle for dominance as I continue fucking her against the wall. All I can hear is heavy breathing and the sound of skin against skin.
We haven’t done anything this risky in quite some time. Any number of people could come out here and catch us. We should have at least locked the door or something, but there’s no stopping now.
My cock throbs inside her, and I know my release is coming soon. Pulling back, I quickly begin rubbing tight circles against her clit as I murmur into her ear. “Hurry, baby. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
“Oh God,” she whimpers as I move my fingers faster and faster against her. “Shit! Fuck! Daddy,” she cries out, not at all quietly enough, but it’s what I need to fall over the edge.
My cock jerk as I shoot my cum into her. I thrust deeper and deeper, as if I could get her pregnant with a second baby right now. Fuck, I’d love nothing more.
Since we married Skyla, we’ve pretty much kept her pregnant—not that she’s complaining per se. I think we’ve all developed a breeding kink, and with five dads, there’s no telling if or when we’ll stop.
Suddenly, the door opens, and my heart seizes in my chest. Adrenaline pumps through my veins at the idea of being caught as I quickly shield Skyla.
“What is taking so lon—?” Wesley starts before cutting himself off. “Fuck, I knew I should have come with to grab the juice,” he says as his eyes meet mine.
I scoff as I slowly pull Skyla off me, setting her down to her feet before grabbing her leggings and slipping them back on for her.
“Did you destress Daddy, little one?” Wesley teases as Skyla smirks, shooting him a wink.
“Doing what I can. You’re up next.”
“Challenge accepted,” he says, rubbing his hands together mischievously.
I let out a rough laugh as I shake my head at both of them, then lean down to press a kiss to Skyla’s lips.
“I love you,” I say.
She smiles up at me. “I love you too.”
When I turn, Wesley is there, cupping my face and stealing a kiss before I can even breathe.
As he pulls away, his eyes are heavy on mine, so many words swimming just below the surface, so many things practically begging to spill out.
They don’t, though, because I’m not ready.
Or I don’t know how to be ready. I don’t really know.
I never saw what Wesley and I have coming, and I’ve never known how to handle it.
It’s not as easy for us as it was for Asher and Liam.
Or maybe I should say it’s not as easy for me.
Wesley and I are more carnal, lustful over love.
That’s what I keep trying to convince myself at least.