24. Trick
24
TRICK
I’m not exactly a man known for restraint.
I never have been, not in the field and sure as hell not in my personal life. The way I see it, the clock’s always ticking. You never know when your number’s gonna be up. Why waste precious time overthinking every little detail when you could be living instead?
Still, there’s a line between living recklessly and living with intention. Tonight—if I’m being honest—I’m tiptoeing that line. Every time my gaze lands on Marie, my pulse spikes, and the logical part of my brain tries to remind me of all the reasons this might be a terrible idea. But then there’s my heart, my gut, my body, telling me that she’s the best damn idea I’ve ever had.
She’s across the room now, perched on the edge of the bed. I say the bed, but it’s more like our bed—at least for tonight. The sheets are already a mess from round one, and we’re gearing up for round two.
Normally, I’d be bouncing off the walls by now, throwing out jokes and teasing Sam or Hugo until they roll their eyes. But there’s something different in the air this evening that has my heart beating faster than usual.
It’s not lust. It’s something more. I don’t know what it is—I’m not good with words like Hugo, or smart like Sam. But I know what I feel, and right now, everything I feel is about Marie. I see it on them too. They way they are with her, the way they look at her.
Tonight is different. Important. It means something that she came back, and it means something that we’re here together in this moment.
She lifts her head, her dark hair spilling in waves around her shoulders. There’s a faint flush on her cheeks, the same flush she gets whenever she’s flustered or excited or both. I should probably crack something wise—lighten the mood, keep things breezy—but the words get stuck in my throat.
I don’t feel particularly breezy. I feel like the floor’s dropped out from under me.
Tonight, if I’m not careful, I might blurt out the words I’ve never said to anyone before. That’s how twisted up I am over her. Nothing shuts my brain off like the way she tastes.
One day, she’ll wake up and realize we aren’t smart enough or good enough for her. But tonight is not that day.
The next round is calling, and if there’s something I know how to do—besides talk a mile a minute—it’s how to let the moment sweep me away. Just like a fight, sex can fill the space with its own importance.
Marie’s eyes flash with excitement and warmth, making my chest ache in ways I can’t explain. Sam and Hugo hover nearby, leaning against the walls, exchanging silent glances. They’re waiting for me to make a move, or maybe they’re just as charged by whatever this is as I am.
I cross the room, each step sending a jolt of anticipation through my veins. Marie tilts her head, and a soft smile tugs at her lips. My mouth goes dry. This is happening—again. With me, Sam, Hugo, and her. This is round two, yes, but it feels bigger, weightier, more like a puzzle piece slipping into place.
That’s what Marie is, I realize just before reaching her. She’s the piece we’ve been missing. I’m dopey, she’s perfect, Sam’s stoic, Hugo’s mysterious, but we fit. That’s the wild part. We shouldn’t, but we do.
“Hey,” I say, voice quieter than usual, my typical bravado muted by the moment.
“Hey,” she echoes, biting her lip.
From behind me, I hear Hugo murmur something low in French—probably something about how beautiful this is. Sam is still, watchful. We slip into each other’s arms, and the second round begins, but it’s not just about raw lust. This is deeper.
It starts in a haze of touches, gasps, whispered curses that edge my throat. I’m too busy drowning in the sensation of Marie’s skin pressed against mine to do more than grunt or moan, letting Sam and Hugo slip in and out of my peripheral vision. Their presence isn’t a barrier. It’s a reassurance. We’re all here, and we’re all in this together.
I pull her onto my lap, facing them. The view from behind her is one for the record books. That big ass, the way her dark hair bounces down her back, fuck, this woman is perfection. She eases onto my cock, one wet inch at a time, until we’re both shaking.
Sam reaches down to play with her tits as she slowly starts to ride me. This angle is new for her, so she’s taking her time, and it’s absolutely killing me. I’m doing my best not to be in control—she’s still pretty new to sex, and I don’t want to scare her off—but all I wanna do is grab her hips and take over.
Fuck it.
I grab her hips and take over, rolling myself up and deeper into her. All she has to do is let me have control, and that’s exactly what she does. I sit up and whisper in her ear, “You’re such a fucking good girl, you know that?”
She whimpers, “I’m not.”
“No? Prove it.”
I can’t see what she does, but I fucking feel it. This little minx’s fingernails gently claw up my balls, and I inhale swiftly through my teeth from the electric sensation.
She purrs, “See? I’m not a good girl.”
“You’re a fucking naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Know what happens to naughty girls?”
“Same thing that happens to good girls, so what’s the point of being good when naughty is so much more fun?”
I laugh sharply and roll us to get her on her hands and knees for me. We end up near the other edge of the bed, and the guys grumble about me stealing her all for myself as they follow us there. But for the moment, that’s exactly what I want.
Her. All for myself, for the next few breaths.
I cover her with me, leaning onto her back until she’s forced to flatten to the bed with me plunged deep inside of her sweet little pussy. I take her wrists and spread them as wide as they’ll go, and I hold her there as I nuzzle her silken neck. “You’re right, baby. You can be good or naughty, and you’ll still get what you want from me. And do you know why?”
She gasps, “Why?”
“Because I’ll give you everything.” I thrust hard and deep, earning a breathy moan from the depths of her soul. It’s true. Right now, living inside of her, I’d give her anything she wanted.
Because I want everything from her.
I hook my hands beneath her shoulders and use the leverage to get as deep as I possibly can, bottoming out, relishing the way she shudders on my cock. She’s close. I can feel it.
Hugo wraps a fist in her hair, pulling it to the side so he can see her face. “That’s it, love. You will come for him.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Sam leans down and brushes his thumb across her bottom lip. “Feels good, don’t it, baby?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He smiles a little, eyes locked on hers. “You want us all, ain’t that right?”
She trembles as her pussy clamps down on me, her tiny fists balling the sheets. She can’t speak. She’s right on that edge.
I don’t let up. I lick the sweat from her neck right as I feel her throb inside, and she lets out a primal scream when she comes on me. As she’s coming, I roll us over again so she’s on top of me, only this time, I wrap my arms around her writhing body. She’s coming and jerking and whimpering, helpless to what’s happening inside of her right now.
Hugo reaches between her thighs for her clit, and Sam sucks one of her nipples into his mouth, and all she can do is take it. Every sensation, every scene, three men determined to make her come hard and often. She’s a feast for us to devour, and we will. As many times as we can.
But by her fourth orgasm, she’s begging, “Please.”
“Please what?” I hiss. I’m on an edge of my own. There’s only so much a man can take.
“Need to…feel you…come in me.”
Oh, fuck, that’s all I needed to hear. My balls draw up with that tight pleasure, and the next thing I know, I’m coming so hard I can’t breathe. A bellow roars out of me, harsh and deep.
Marry me.
I don’t say the words, but I want to, and that should scare me, but it don’t. The thought is as natural as breathing. I want this every night for the rest of my life.
When it finally ends—or slows, at least—the air sizzles. My muscles tremble from the electricity that still crackles through them. Marie lies between us, hair damp with sweat, face flushed. Sam strokes a hand down her back, and Hugo presses a light kiss to her temple. I nestle in, half-limp from the intense rush, but a spark of adrenaline still hums in my veins.
Everything goes quiet after a while. Normally, I’d crack a joke by now. But if I listen closely, I hear the thump of my own heart, each beat chanting an unthinkable phrase: I love you, I love you, I love you.
My mouth almost forms the words, but if I say it, there’s no going back. And if she doesn’t return it, how do I handle that?
And what would Sam and Hugo do?
I shift on the bed, letting out a slow breath. Marie notices my tension and peers up at me, those lovely eyes soft with concern. “Trick?” she asks, voice still husky from the aftershocks. “Everything okay?”
“I love you.” It doesn’t come out, but I think it real loud. The old me—the one that cracks jokes to deflect—barks an internal order: Don’t fuck this up yet.
Instead, I force a grin. “Better than okay, baby girl,” I manage, letting my fingers brush her cheek.
She might press me about what I didn’t say if she had the energy, but we’re both too drained to handle a conversation now. I lean down, planting a soft kiss on her temple. She exhales, tension leaving her body in a gentle sigh.
Sam slides an arm around her waist, drawing her into a half embrace. Hugo’s at her other side, angled so he can watch the three of us with that quiet expression of his. I suspect he’s aware I’m on the verge of something big, but he doesn’t push it. Hugo’s always known when to give me space.
We lie there, sweat cooling on our skin, the sheets wrapped around our legs. The thought keeps springing up. I shove it down with a mental grunt. The second I say it, our entire world changes. I’m not sure if I’m ready, or if I’ll ever be. But it’s there, burning.
Time slides away as I watch her breathe. Sam murmurs something low, perhaps telling Hugo they should get some water or check if the door is locked. I can’t be sure. My head spins with the thought that we’re forging something that might last forever or break us if we’re not careful.
Eventually, Marie drifts off to a half-sleep, her body slumped in that in-between place of exhaustion and contentment. Sam quietly excuses himself to use the bathroom. Hugo yawns, rolling to the other side, maybe rummaging for a spare blanket. I remain propped on one elbow, my gaze drifting over Marie’s peaceful face. I never thought I’d feel so strongly about one person, let alone three. But that’s how life goes, I guess.
A thought steals into my mind like a ninja: Marry me. I freeze, blinking. Did I really just think that, this long after sex? It’s one thing to think it in the heat of the moment, but now? I swallow, a wave of heat rolling up my neck.
Marriage?
The idea should terrify me, but it doesn’t. It feels…oddly right.
But , Marry me, said in the middle of the night, exhausted from a mind-blowing fuck session, with Sam and Hugo dozing around us? That’s not how I want to do it. If I do it, I want it to be perfect. Marie deserves perfect.
But the mere thought that I want to do it at all stuns me. I love you was already huge, but marriage is on another level, something I never pictured for myself. Marriage isn’t for people like me.
Doesn’t stop me from wanting it, apparently.
Marie shifts in her half-sleep, exhaling a faint sound of contentment. The corners of my mouth soften into a smile that makes my bones ache with happiness.
God, I am so gone for her.
I want this, and everything that comes with it. The notion of building a stable future, the four of us, maybe even a child or two if that’s in the cards…it doesn’t scare me as it once would. The old me might have laughed at the idea. The new me is practically floating at the thought.
I picture a day when I’ll slip a ring on her finger—maybe Sam or Hugo do the same in their own ways. A nontraditional arrangement, yes, but it’s ours.
I let my head drop back onto the pillow, staring at the faint patterns of moonlight crossing the ceiling. Sam’s quiet footfalls return, and he slips back into bed on the far side, presumably behind Hugo. The mattress dips. We shift to accommodate. I sense them adjusting around Marie’s form, ensuring she’s nestled securely. My eyes grow heavy, lulled by the rhythmic breathing around me.
A final wave of calm settles over me, the edges of sleep tugging at my consciousness. I press a drowsy kiss to the crown of Marie’s head, inhaling the comforting scent of her hair. Sam and Hugo’s breaths sync up with ours, and in that moment, everything is perfect. My eyes slide shut. The last coherent thought in my head is simple, powerful, and deliriously happy.
I want to marry her.