Chapter Nine #2
Emerson stays planted in front of me, tracking every flicker of my reaction like he’s committing it to memory.
His fingers move between my thighs—slow, precise, circling my clit—anchoring me even as the pleasure crests, three points of contact, three distinct claims drawing tight until I’m held, centered, and utterly undone.
My orgasm tears through me before I have time to brace for it, a hot surge that ripples outward from where Emerson’s fingers tease my nub.
It’s too much and not enough all at once.
My breath catches, my spine bows, and my body clamps down hard around Rowan and Ronan.
Their answering groans rumble through my skin, rough and raw, vibrating through both of them where they fill me.
Emerson feels it too—my whole body shaking against his touch—and he laughs under his breath, wicked and pleased. “Look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against the hinge of my jaw, “already falling apart for us.”
My laugh is small, breathless, trembling around the edges. I shouldn’t want to push them further. I shouldn’t tease when all of us are strung so tight. But I do. God, I do. I shift my hips just enough, purposeful enough to make them feel every aftershock rolling through me.
Both twins groan again, deeper this time, coarse and unrestrained. The sound goes straight through me.
Ronan’s hand comes down fast, a hot slap to my right cheek. The crack echoes off the walls. The sting blooms instantly, delicious and sharp, and I gasp. But instead of softening, my body tightens again.
He huffs a disbelieving growl. “You trying to kill us, baby?” he mutters, and brings his palm down again, harder. Heat spreads across my skin in a bright, throbbing flush. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the bastard enjoys it.
Rowan’s fingers dig harder into my hips, every muscle in his arms flexing beneath my hands. He bites off a curse so raw it sounds like it’s dragged through him.
Emerson leans in close enough for his breath to warm my cheek. His lips ghost across my skin in a teasing stroke. “You little menace,” he whispers, voice curling like smoke down my spine. “Look at you. Look at what you do to us.” His smile touches his words, amused and hungry all at once.
I reach for him without thinking, threading my fingers through his dark hair and tugging him closer until our foreheads brush. Everything in me is stretched thin and electric, riding the edge between control and surrender.
“I want you to take the place of whoever caves first,” I whisper, voice shaking with want and wickedness. Each word lands soft against his lips, a dare wrapped in silk.
Emerson groans for a single heartbeat as the image settles in. His eyes darken, heat pooling slow and dangerous. “Baby,” he murmurs, voice rough with awe, “you’re going to undo us.”
I tilt my chin, brushing my mouth against his. “Good,” I breathe. “Ruin me right.”
Below me, Rowan groans again, fingers tightening on my hips as he fucks up into me. Ronan’s hand slides along my spine, steady and warm, his breath rough as it brushes the back of my shoulder while he glides his length into me relentlessly.
Rowan’s rhythm is the first to break—his breath tearing free in a rough, helpless sound against my shoulder.
His hands clamp down on my hips, grip turning desperate, fingers digging in like he’s holding himself together by force alone.
“Berk,” he rasps, the name scraped raw from his chest—half warning, half plea.
His eyes—lord, those eyes—storm-dark and blown wide, pupils devouring the last trace of gold, lock onto mine and burn straight through me.
Sweat gathers on his brow. His jaw works, tight with restraint, holding himself on a razor’s edge as he silently asks—still—for forgiveness he’s already been given.
A shiver rolls through me, deep enough to seize my breath. My heart stutters against my ribs. The world tilts, narrows, sharpens around this man who once hid behind coldness, anger, violence… and now can’t hide anything at all.
“Hey,” I whisper, letting my fingers trace his cheek. “Look at me.”
He does. Immediately. Like there’s never been another option. His thrusts falter, not from weakness but from the weight of what’s sitting between us, heavy and fragile in a way only Rowan can be.
“You good?” I murmur.
He breathes out a laugh that breaks in the middle. “No,” he admits, voice shredded raw. “You’re… fuck, Berk…”
I smile, soft around the edges. “Don’t hold back.”
He swallows, gaze locked on mine like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.
One hand slips from my hip, tracing a familiar path up my spine until it curls at the back of my neck.
His thumb moves once—slow, reverent—a quiet admission that even now, especially now, he still needs the reassurance.
“I’m trying,” he says. “But you’re… you’re everything, baby. Everything I lost. Everything I thought was gone for good.”
The words send a cold shiver skating up my spine—no small thing, considering both he and his twin are still deep inside me.
I lean into his touch, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, the promise cutting and healing him in the same breath. When he opens them, whatever restraint he had fractures—leaving him raw, exposed, real. A part of him he never lets anyone touch but us.
“That’s the problem,” he breathes, his voice unsteady. “I can’t lose you again.”
My lips part, but he surges in before I can speak—kissing me hard, unrestrained, like he’s running out of air and I’m the only thing keeping him upright.
His hand closes at my neck, pulling me closer, the kiss turning into both a claim and a plea.
It steals my breath—then leaves me anchored in its wake.
Home.
Ronan’s hands steady my hips, grounding me, but he doesn’t break the rhythm—keeps thrusting deep behind me, letting the moment breathe instead of taking it over. Emerson stills at my side, reading the shift without a word, giving Rowan this space without claiming any part of it for himself.
It narrows until it’s only us. Me and Rowan. His forehead presses to mine, his breath uneven, his body fitted so tightly against me it feels like he’s trying to pull us back into the same skin, the same heartbeat.
“Rowan,” I whisper.
He brushes his lips against mine again, gentler this time, like he’s shaping unfamiliar words with his mouth. “I love you,” he murmurs—barely a sound, barely a breath. A truth he’s kept locked behind his teeth for years. “More than I know how to handle.”
My heart fractures in the softest way possible.
“I love you too,” I whisper, my thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone.
His breath breaks as it leaves him. His grip firms, steady again. He kisses me once more—unhurried now, intentional, tasting instead of consuming. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
“For what?” I ask softly.
“For me to give you everything.”
My entire body lights up with heat that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the man laying his soul bare in my hands.
“I’m ready,” I breathe.
Rowan groans, a raw, guttural sound torn from deep in his chest, and it ripples straight through me.
The second it leaves him, he’s already pulling me back into motion, his hands locking around my hips like he’s grounding himself with the feel of me.
His eyes stay on mine, dark and scorching, every thrust a silent declaration he’s too wrecked to say out loud.
“Berk,” he breathes, his voice splintering—caught between need and a plea that edges too close to reverence.
He drives up into me hard, each movement rough enough to steal the air from my lungs.
It feels like he’s chasing something inside me, or maybe running from the storm inside himself, using my body as the only place he knows he won’t drown.
His pace is brutal, desperate, a rhythm that tells me he’s right on the edge of unraveling.
Ronan follows his lead, matching him stroke for stroke behind me.
His grip on my hips shifts to adjust for Rowan’s force, his breath hot against my shoulder.
His chest presses to my back with every push, the pressure sending sparks straight down my spine.
The twins fall into that unspoken synchronicity they’ve always had, using me as their axis, their timing so perfect it feels impossible not to shatter around them.
My entire body tightens, heat spiraling fast, coiling until I can barely breathe. Rowan’s eyes burn into mine like he feels it too—my pulse, my tremble, the way my muscles flutter around them.
“Baby,” he grits out, jaw clenched. “You’re… fuck…”
Ronan’s hand slides around my waist, his fingers finding my clit with cruel precision. The touch obliterates whatever control I had left. My breath breaks, a sharp cry ripping out of me as pleasure slams through my body so violently my vision blurs at the edges.
Rowan groans at the same moment I seize around him, his head dropping back, his hands bruising my hips as he thrusts up one last time. Ronan’s rhythm falters with mine, a strangled curse falling from his lips as he shudders behind me.
The three of us fall apart in the same breath. Rowan’s hips jerk beneath me. Ronan’s chest presses tight to my back as he twitches with me, lost to the same explosion.
We stay fused together for a long moment, breathing in the dark, letting the tremors fade from our limbs.
My muscles twitch around Rowan and Ronan, overstimulated and glowing, until Ronan finally pulls out.
He withdraws slowly, carefully, a low grunt rumbling from his chest when my body clenches in protest. Rowan follows beneath me, the movement making both of us gasp as he slips free.
Before he lets go completely, he drags my mouth to his and steals one more kiss—slow, deep, warm enough to make my toes curl again.