Chapter Thirteen #2
Their touch stays just shy of explicit—hands mapping, lips lingering, breath catching—but the intensity is enough to set my skin on fire.
They strip my towel with more patience than they’ve ever shown in a fight, each movement slow and deliberate, as if savoring the right to uncover me piece by piece.
Rowan presses a kiss to my collarbone.
Ronan’s palm spreads across my stomach, warm and protective.
Emerson cups my face, eyes searching mine with a depth that makes my lungs ache.
“You’re ours,” he whispers, voice steady but thick.
Ronan echoes quietly, “Always.”
Rowan seals it with another kiss. “And we’re yours.”
I sink into them, all heat and hands and tangled breath, letting them hold me, worship me, remind me with every touch that even in the dark, I’m not alone.
With how loose and warm my limbs feel, they guide me wherever they want me.
My body isn’t fighting gravity anymore; it’s floating, pliant, willing.
Ronan shifts me with that quiet strength of his, hands sure and steady as he turns me until I’m straddling Emerson.
My chest presses to his, our breaths mingling, his heartbeat thundering against mine like he’s trying to anchor me to him.
Emerson’s hands slide up the backs of my thighs, soft and reverent, gripping just enough to hold me still. His voice is a quiet rasp when he murmurs, “Easy, baby. I’ve got you.” And I believe him. I always do, even when the world is nothing but fire and ruin around us.
Ronan kneels behind me, his presence a dark heat at my back.
His fingers ghost over my hips, my waist, the lines of my spine, moving with a familiarity that sends shivers through me.
When he drags his hand lower, I can feel the smile against my shoulder, the warm press of his breath as he murmurs, “Look how wet you are for us.” As he drags his fingers through my glistening folds.
Ronan’s touch is deliberate as he trails his fingers over the heat of my body, slow strokes that make my muscles tremble with anticipation.
Emerson kisses the side of my throat, soft at first, then firmer, lips lingering like he wants to claim every inch of skin he can reach.
The combination of their touches pulls a sound from me I don’t recognize—soft, needy, completely unguarded.
They murmur to me as they move, voices overlapping in a low, steady rhythm.
“Breathe, baby.”
“You’re doing perfect.”
“That’s it. Let go.”
Emerson’s hands trace slow, grounding paths down my back, steadying the tremor in my spine as he enters me.
“Fuck…” he growls when he seats himself fully, the sound rough and undone.
His grip tightens in my hair, drawing my mouth back to his, kissing me hard as he murmurs broken pleas against my lips. “So tight and wet for me.”
Ronan’s grip on my hips tightens, grounding me, while he slips a finger, then two into my pussy beside Emerson, stretching me. “You ready for both of us?”
“Yes. Please. I need it.” I beg desperately, pushing back against him.
“Shh… I’ve got you.” Ronan pulls his fingers free, and by the sounds of it, he’s licking them clean before lining himself with my entrance and slowly sliding in next to Emerson. “Easy, baby. Let me in.”
Once he glides that last inch, we all groan at the tight fit.
Rowan chuckles as he watches us, stroking his cock and drawing my attention to him. He grips my chin, keeping my eyes firmly on him. “Are you stuffed full? You’re so beautiful, taking two cocks.”
A quiet sound slips from my lips, a wordless plea that signals I’m ready for whatever comes next. “Please…” I don’t even know what I’m asking for anymore—but I don’t have to. They understand anyway.
They move together with a kind of precision only they could pull off, bodies syncing within mine, supporting me, surrounding me, overwhelming me in the best possible way.
It doesn’t take long to feel that overwhelming sensation signaling a quick spiral toward the edge. My pussy starts clenching, tightening impossibly against them.
Both of them groan.
Ronan shifts behind me. “You going to come on our cocks, baby?” I can’t answer him, so he reaches between Em and me, strumming my clit.
I scream moments later, black specks dotting my vision as I drop onto Emerson’s sweaty chest.
Ronan’s hands tighten on my hips with a mix of command and tenderness, guiding my body until he slips free, but then fits himself against my back entrance.
A surprised sound slips from my lips, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
They chuckle softly, easing me back with murmured reassurance and coaxing praise until the tension melts again.
The new pressure steals my breath, a whimper slipping from me that melts into a desperate noise as my body adjusts to him.
The sensation is overwhelming in the best way, heat curling through me so intensely my vision blurs.
But even in the haze, I can tell something is missing.
Or rather… someone.
Rowan hasn’t moved from my side, kneeling with his shoulders squared and his chest rising and falling like he’s holding himself back by sheer force.
His eyes track every movement of his brothers with a hunger that catches fire in my belly.
The sight of him—tense, starving, wanting—unravels inside me.
He licks his lips slowly, hungrily, gaze flicking from my body to my face. The moment our eyes lock, the air between us crackles. I lift a shaky hand toward him, fingers outstretched in a silent plea I know he’ll understand.
And he does.
A deep growl vibrates his chest, dark and possessive, and in the next breath he’s on me—closing the small gap like it offended him, gripping my jaw with one hand while the other steadies himself beside me.
His mouth crashes into mine, hot and unforgiving.
He kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear again.
Like he’s trying to pour six years of loss and longing back into my lungs all at once.
His lips devour mine, stealing every gasp the others pull from me, kissing me like this moment is the only proof we’re still alive.
And holy hell… does it feel like coming home.
The pressure builds slowly at first, a deep, pulsing warmth that spreads outward until every nerve feels alive, sensitive, wanting. I gasp, my fingers curling into Emerson’s shoulders, my forehead resting against Rowan’s as an indistinct sound slips out of me—half moan, half plea.
They answer in soothing whispers.
“Easy, princess. You can take it.” Rowan whispers against my lips.
“We’ve got you.” Emerson’s hands slide up to clasp my thighs, holding me secure while he finds a slow, controlled pace that sends heat spiraling through me.
“That’s it. You’re being such a good girl, taking our cocks so well.” Ronan’s groan vibrates against my ear, his hand sweeping down my spine in a tease before he brings it down on my right cheek, a burning shock that makes my breath hitch.
A wild, wanton groan tears from my throat, a helpless surrender to them…
to us… to the way we fit in every dark and perfect place.
I let them move me, guide me, hold me, their bodies bracketing mine on all sides.
I’m suspended between them, breathless, helpless, cherished, lost in the rhythm they create around me.
Every shift, every drag of their hands, their cocks, every quiet command in my ear sends me spiraling higher.
Rowan cradles my chin, thumb sweeping my bottom lip like he’s coaxing it to bloom. “Open up for me, baby.”
I do, without a heartbeat of hesitation, and he moves into me slowly at first, then deeper, until he brushes the back of my throat.
When I hum around him, his growl drops to a feral beast, and he holds himself flush against my mouth like he’s fighting not to lose control.
“Fuck, baby.” His fist tightens in my hair, anchoring us together.
Then we move, the four of us, a single pulse, a single breath.
Emerson anchors me, hands gripping my hips and guiding my rhythm with a curse that vibrates through his chest. Ronan’s pressed against my back, his voice rough in my ear as he drags his teeth along my neck, whispering exactly how he wants me, how he needs me.
“Look at them, baby,” he murmurs against my skin. “You’re driving us insane.”
His words melt my insides. One hand braces against Rowan’s thigh as he fucks my throat, while the other splays on Emerson’s chest, feeling every uneven breath he takes and hearing every broken sound he tries to swallow down.
“Fuck, Berk…” Emerson’s voice strains, shaking with restraint. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
Heat blooms across my body at the sound of it; at the feel of him fighting for control and losing ground with every roll of my hips.
Ronan’s hand slides around my stomach, flattening there, holding me in place while his mouth finds the shell of my ear again. “Say you’re ours,” he orders quietly. “Say it.”
Rowan withdraws just long enough for my voice to find its way out. “I’m yours,” I confess, raw and real. He sinks back into me instantly, like he refuses to let the space between us exist for more than a heartbeat.
A rough groan answers me from all sides of my body, and for a moment, the world is nothing but heat and breath and the three of them trying to pull every ounce of sanity out of me.
Rowan stays close, kneeling beside us, his hand sweeping up my side, his knuckles brushing across my tight nipples. His eyes are molten and fixed entirely on me, like he’s memorizing every shiver, every sound, every plea.
“You’re so damn beautiful like this,” he whispers, voice hoarse and reverent. “Eyes on me, my little wild thing.”
My eyes snap to his, and the look on his face nearly undoes me. Raw. Starved. Worshiping and hungry all at once. He cups my jaw, guiding me closer until my lips are flush against his pelvis.
“Come apart for us,” he growls, the words trembling out of him like he’s begging and commanding at the same time. “Let go. We’ve got you.”