Chapter 20
TESSA
“Take it off,” Ethan tells him. “Show her we’re not here to play.”
The command hangs in the stifling heat of the bedroom for a fraction of a second.
Then, Asher moves.
He slides between my spread legs, pushing Ethan’s knee aside to make space. His eyes lock onto my crotch, dilated and dark, burning with a focus that makes my breath hitch.
He grips my hips, his long fingers digging into my skin, anchoring me to the mattress. He buries his face against the white cotton of my panties.
I scream.
It’s a raw, shocked sound that rips from my throat. The heat of his breath through the fabric is scalding.
He grips the waistband, sliding the cotton down my legs with ruthless efficiency. He tosses the garment to the floor without looking.
Then his tongue is on my clit.
My head falls back against the headboard with a thud.
I’m writhing, trapped between the three of them, besieged on all sides. There’s no room to think. There’s no room to breathe.
The air in the room is heavy with the scent of musk, sweat, and sex.
Asher is relentless. He eats me like I’m his last meal, his tongue broad and flat, lapping hard against my swollen clit. He spreads my pussy lips wider, his thumbs pressing into my inner thighs, exposing my dripping cunt completely to the air and his hunger.
He’s devouring me.
“Ethan!” I cry out, grabbing his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.
“I’ve got you,” Ethan growls. He leans over me, biting my neck, his hands pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head. His weight presses me down, holding me still for his brother’s mouth.
Owen kneels right beside the mattress. He leans over my chest, his hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs pinching my bare nipples into hard, painful peaks.
“Look at her,” Owen murmurs, sounding wrecked. “She’s so wet. She’s soaking him.”
“She’s perfect,” Ethan agrees.
I’m drowning in sensation. The heat of Asher’s mouth, the crushing weight of Ethan’s body, the friction of Owen’s hands. It’s too much and not enough.
“Please,” I beg, my hips bucking off the mattress, chasing Asher’s tongue. “Please, I need…”
“What do you need?” Ethan asks, brushing his lips over my pulse point. He bites the tender skin there, marking me.
“You,” I whimper. “I need you inside. Now.”
“Which one?” Owen teases, biting the shell of my ear. “There are three of us, baby. You have to be specific.”
“I don’t care,” I sob, my head thrashing. “Just fuck me.”
Ethan pulls back. He looks at Owen. A silent look passes between them—a look of brotherhood and shared intent that makes my stomach swoop.
“Swap,” Ethan orders.
They move in unison. Ethan grabs my hips and hauls me up onto my hands and knees. I’m completely exposed, arched on the mattress in the center of them.
Owen shifts to the front, kneeling right in front of my face. He unzips his pants, freeing his thick, heavy cock.
“Taste me, Tess,” he says, pressing the blunt head against my lips. “Let’s see what that mouth can do.”
I open for him instantly. I have no pride left. I take him deep, my throat working around him. He tastes like salt and pre-cum and something musky that drives me wild.
Asher slides underneath my arched torso. He reaches up, taking my heavy, aching breast into his mouth, sucking hard on the nipple. His stubble grazes my sensitive skin.
Ethan positions himself behind me. I look back at him. He isn’t pausing to think about the consequences or the rules or the job. His eyes are dark, swallowing me whole.
“Mine,” he growls.
He grabs my hips and shoves his dick straight into my wet pussy.
I scream around Owen’s cock. Ethan stretches me wide, filling me to the hilt in one brutal, tearing thrust.
Our skin slaps together.
“Oh god,” I try to say, but it comes out as a muffled moan against Owen’s cock.
Ethan sets a punishing pace. He fucks me hard from behind, his hips slamming against my ass, the wet, obscene sound mixing with my desperate noises.
I’m being consumed. Owen in my mouth, gripping the back of my head to force me to take him deeper with every thrust. Asher underneath me, biting and sucking my breasts. Ethan inside me, claiming the deepest parts of me.
I’m completely, utterly theirs.
My brain shuts down. There’s no logic left. There’s only the friction. The sweat. The scent of them.
“Watch me claim you,” Ethan roars.
I force my eyes open, looking up at him while I suck Owen and Asher marks my chest.
“We’re yours,” Ethan tells me, thrusting harder, hitting deep. “You belong with us. You understand? Don’t walk away from us.”
I nod frantically, tears streaming down my face.
“Say it,” Owen commands. He pulls out of my mouth for a second, a thick string of saliva connecting my lips to his cock. “Tell him.”
“I stay,” I sob, my chest heaving. “I stay. I’m yours.”
“Damn right you are.”
Ethan drives into me with everything he has. The pleasure builds, a dark, heavy wave crashing over me. He isn’t slowing down. He isn’t pulling out.
He groans, his face contorting in a mask of beautiful agony. With one final, devastating thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and shudders.
Hot, thick semen paints my vaginal walls, pulsing deep inside me. He collapses against my back for a second, breathing hard, before pulling out. Cum leaks from my swollen entrance, dripping down my inner thigh.
The loss of him is a physical ache, but I don’t have to wait.
Asher steps right into his place. He grips my waist and slides his hard cock into my sloppy, used cunt.
I cry out at the change. Asher is different—sharper, relentless. He hits a different angle, grinding against my G-spot with a clinical precision that makes my toes curl.
“You took him,” Asher whispers, his voice filled with wonder and a dark, possessive hunger. “Now take me.”
He moves with an animalistic energy I’ve never seen in him. The logic is gone. The control is gone. He fucks me like a man starving to death, his hips snapping forward like a piston.
“Tessa,” he gasps, his hands gripping my hips tight enough to bruise.
He fucks me until the bed frame bangs against the wall, chasing his own release with brutal efficiency. He stiffens, his head falling back. He groans loudly and dumps his load deep inside my overflowing pussy.
It’s overload. It’s too much. I’m completely stuffed with them.
Asher pulls out, dazed, his chest heaving.
Owen doesn’t wait. He grabs my shoulders, pulls his cock from my face, and flips me over onto my back. He brackets my hips with his knees, pinning me to the mattress face-to-face.
“My turn,” Owen whispers, his eyes blazing.
He grabs my thighs, pushing them wide, and plunges his wet cock straight into my dripping cunt.
“God, you’re so warm,” Owen murmurs against my skin. He drops his weight onto me, his lips moving over my shoulder, kissing the pulse hammering there.
He rocks into me, burying himself deep, his hand finding mine on the sheet and interlacing our fingers.
“Look at our hands,” he commands softly.
I look down. His large hand holding mine.
“We fit,” he says. “We always have.”
The friction builds. The room is a haze of sweat and noise, but I feel grounded by his grip. He fucks me in deep, rhythmic strokes that push me right to the edge of the cliff.
“I’m close,” I gasp, my nails digging into his back. “Owen, please…”
“Don’t hold back,” he urges, biting my collarbone. “Show off for us, Tess. Come for me.”
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, a blinding white light. My body clamps down hard around Owen’s cock, milking him ruthlessly.
“Fuck!” Owen yells. He drives his hips forward, burying his face in my neck. He pumps into me hard, groaning as he pours inside me, joining his brothers.
We stay like that for a long time. Tangled. Sweaty. Connected. One terrifying, beautiful organism.
Slowly, the room comes back into focus. The sounds of the street outside—a car horn, a distant siren—filter in, reminding me that the world still exists. But it feels far away. The only world that matters is in this room.
Owen pulls out, collapsing onto the mattress beside me. He drags me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin.
Ethan leans over me, brushing damp hair off my forehead. His hand shakes slightly. He looks at me with a reverence that steals my breath.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“I think I’m dead,” I murmur, my voice wrecked. “I think you killed me.”
“We brought you back to life,” Asher says softly. He’s lying on my other side, his hand resting flat on my stomach, right over the place where Owen just finished.
I look at them—my bosses, my best friend’s brothers, my men.
I should feel guilty. I should feel ashamed. I should be running for the hills.
But as I close my eyes, surrounded by their scent and their heat, I only feel one thing.
Home.
The bedroom is quiet as the afternoon sun slants through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the wreckage of the bed. The sheets are twisted, stained, and halfway on the floor.
We moved to the living room. Or rather they moved me.
I’m currently wearing Ethan’s discarded dress shirt and sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.
I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed.
My inner thighs ache with a dull, sweet throb.
Every time I shift, I feel the evidence of what we did. The wetness. The fullness.
It’s a constant, visceral reminder that I belong to them now.
Owen is in the kitchen, making something that smells like eggs and bacon. He’s wearing his boxers and nothing else, whistling tunelessly. He moves with a lightness that wasn’t there this morning, flipping a spatula with a flourish.
Ethan sits in the armchair, fully dressed again minus the tie, typing on his phone. But every few seconds, he looks up to check on me. His gaze is possessive, dark, and protective. He looks like a lion watching the perimeter.
Asher sits on the floor by my feet, his laptop open on the coffee table. He’s running a diagnostic on my car remotely, or hacking the Pentagon, I’m not sure. His hand rests absently on my ankle, his thumb rubbing circles over the bone.
It feels… domestic.
It feels insane.
“Here,” Owen says, walking in with a plate. “Scrambled eggs, toast, and the last of your orange juice. You need protein.”
He hands me the plate and sits next to me on the couch, stealing a piece of toast before I can take a bite.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice raspy.
“How’s your throat?” Ethan asks, looking up from his phone.
I flush, remembering the feeling of Owen’s cock stretching my mouth, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue. “Sore.”
“I’ll get you some tea,” Asher says, standing up immediately.
“I’m fine, Ash. Sit down.”
He sits back down, but he rests his hand on my ankle again. It’s a point of contact. He needs to know I’m still here.
I eat the eggs quickly. I’m starving. I feel like I just ran a marathon. The food tastes incredible.
“So,” I say between bites, wiping a crumb from my lip. “What now?”
All three of them go still. Ethan puts his phone down on the armrest. Owen stops chewing. Asher looks away from his screen.
The air in the room shifts, becoming heavy with the weight of the future.
“Now,” Ethan says, “we figure out the logistics.”
“The logistics of… us?” I ask.
“Yes,” Ethan says. “This wasn’t a one-time thing, Tessa. You know that. We crossed the line. We burned the bridge.”
I look at the mess of boxes surrounding us. I think about Harper, about how much I love her, and how completely I just betrayed her trust.
“I know,” I whisper.
“And it can’t be a secret,” Owen adds, leaning back against the cushions. “I mean, we can’t tell the world. Not yet. The investors would have a stroke. But we can’t hide it from each other. No more secret lunches. No more deleted footage.”
“We operate as a unit,” Asher says, his voice calm and factual. “We share. We rotate. We balance. We prioritize your well-being above the code.”
“Is that what you want?” Ethan asks me directly. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Can you handle this? Can you handle us? Because we’re a lot. We’re demanding. We’re messy.”
I look at them. I look at Owen, who makes me laugh and makes me feel brave, who kissed me in the shower and makes me forget my name.
I look at Asher, who sees me when I’m invisible and grounds me when I’m spinning, who touches me like I’m precious data.
I look at Ethan, who challenges me and protects me and looks at me like I’m the only woman on earth, who breaks his own rules just to keep me.
And I realize I stopped running the moment they walked through my door.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s crazy. It’s complicated. And Harper is going to freak out.”
“We’ll handle Harper,” Owen promises. “We’ll grovel. We’ll buy her a pony. Whatever it takes.”
“And the contract? The investors? Markus Vance?” I ask Ethan.
“We’ll handle them too,” Ethan says. His voice is iron. “I told you. I protect what is mine. If Vance comes near you again, I will buy his company and dismantle it brick by brick.”
He stands up and walks over to the couch. He sits on the other side of me, sandwiching me between them.
“And make no mistake, Tessa,” he says, his hand cupping my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “You are mine. You are ours.”
I lean into his touch. I feel the warmth of Owen against my side, the weight of Asher’s hand on my leg.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m yours.”
Asher closes his laptop. He rests his head on my knee, looking up at me with a rare, small smile.
“Then the parameters are set,” Asher says contentedly.
“No more variables,” Owen agrees, kissing my shoulder.
“Just us,” Ethan finishes.
I close my eyes, surrounded by their warmth, their scent, their strength. A month ago, I sent a text to the wrong number asking for trouble. I found it.
And it’s the best mistake I ever made.