47. Rick
47
RICK
One Year Later
“Tank, no throwing food at your brother.” I catch my son’s hand before the mashed potato becomes a projectile. At twelve months old, the twins have mastered the art of chaos.
Mason giggles from his high chair, already covered in his own dinner. They’re opposites in everything—Tank is loud and demanding, Mason quieter but twice as mischievous.
Sunday dinner at our expanded table flows with its usual controlled chaos. Between bites, Violet explains her latest motorcycle theory to Zane, complete with sound effects.
Daisy sits beside Chase, their heads bent over her sketchbook. She’s growing into a real artist, her talent blooming under his guidance. At seven, she’s already designing flash art that clients actually request.
“The security company’s first big contract came through.” Evie passes me more potatoes, somehow managing to feed herself while keeping Tank from redecorating the kitchen. “That resort chain wants full coverage.”
Our legitimate business empire grows steadily. The gallery’s reputation draws clients from across the country. The new security firm provides perfect cover for MC operations while turning a real profit.
“Good timing.” I help Mason with his sippy cup. “We’ll need the extra space the expansion gives us.”
The construction next door is almost complete—double the gallery size, proper office space for the security company, and a larger area for Chase’s growing apprentice program.
“Remember when this was just a tattoo shop?” Zane grins, demonstrating proper fork grip to Violet.
“Remember when we thought three brothers sharing everything was complicated?” Chase doesn’t look up from Daisy’s drawing.
Evie’s laugh carries memories of that first interview when she walked into our gallery and changed everything.
“Speaking of sharing.” Her smile turns wicked. “The girls are sleeping at Jamie’s tonight. Rose is taking the twins.”
Heat floods my veins at her tone. We have plans for tonight—the special tattoo we dreamed up over a year ago for when her body recovered from the babies.
“Sleepover!” Violet bounces in her chair. “Can we show Piper our new game?”
“Only if you finish those vegetables.” Evie points with her fork.
Amazing how she balances everything—mother, lover, partner in all our ventures. The year since the twins’ birth has only made her stronger and more confident.
“Done!” Violet shows her clean plate. “Can I go pack now?”
“After you help clear the table.”
The twins get wiped down, dishes get loaded, and leftovers packed away. Even the girls pitch in without complaint, excited for their sleepover.
Rose arrives first, expertly wrangling both babies and their mountain of supplies. The twins go eagerly—they adore their Aunt Rose almost as much as she spoils them.
“No sugar before bed this time,” Evie warns.
Rose just winks. Since moving in with Draven, she’s embraced aunt duties with surprising enthusiasm. The former FBI agent now runs our security company while helping raise our expanding family.
Jamie pulls up next, Piper bouncing in the back seat. The girls race out with their overnight bags, already planning adventures.
“They’ll crash by nine,” Jamie promises. “Too much excitement.”
After kisses and hugs, our noisy house falls quiet. Just four adults remaining, the air suddenly thick with anticipation.
“Studio’s ready.” Chase’s voice holds promise. “Everything is set up.”
“Just like we planned.” Zane moves behind her. “Each brother adding his mark.”
I watch her pulse jump at her throat, and my voice comes rougher than intended. “Time to make you ours completely.”
Her eyes darken with desire. “I’ve always been yours.”
We follow her outside to our bikes, anticipation building with each step. Some moments deserve patience, preparation, and perfection.
This night has been a year in planning. Time to make it count.
The ride to the gallery takes less than ten minutes, but anticipation makes it feel longer. Evie is wearing a flowing summer dress that shows off her curves and fans out behind her as she rides, and her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, the way we all love it.
The birth of the twins has been kind to her body—she has fuller breasts and softer hips, but she still has the same grace in her movements that first caught our attention.
Chase already has his hair tied back and is ready to work. The sleeve tattoos covering his muscled arms shift as he unlocks the gallery’s back entrance.
Zane is dressed casually in worn jeans and a black T-shirt that emphasizes his broad shoulders, while I’ve kept on my dress shirt from dinner, sleeves rolled to expose my own ink.
Chase’s studio has been transformed. The usual bright fluorescents are off, replaced by strategic lighting that creates the perfect atmosphere for detailed work. His station has also been modified—the chair has been adjusted to a semi-reclined position, allowing us all to access it while we work.
“Like what you see?” Zane whispers in Evie’s ear as she takes in the setup. His hands find her hips while she leans back against his chest.
The design we chose is laid out on Chase’s table—an intricate tree of life, its roots forming our initials and its branches weaving protective symbols among the leaves.
The placement will curve perfectly along her hip, intimate enough to stay private but visible enough to appreciate.
“Strip.” My voice comes rough with anticipation. “Let’s see our canvas.”
She makes a show of it, knowing what it does to us. Her dress falls to the floor, a soft rustle that seems louder in the stillness of the gallery. The light catches her skin, warm and inviting, a masterpiece in itself.
She stands before us, nearly bare, save for the delicate scrap of lace that clings to her hips. Her breathing quickens, shallow and teasing, drawing my attention to the rise and fall of her chest.
I take her in—every curve, every detail, every inch that belongs to us. My brothers and I exchange a silent understanding. Zane’s eyes smolder with hunger, his jaw tight.
Chase’s focus is sharp, his artist’s mind already mapping the design onto her skin. And me? I’m consumed, not just by desire but by the overwhelming need to love her like never before.
“You’ve always been beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rasping with the weight of everything I feel for her. “But tonight, we make it eternal.”
Her lips part, her breath hitching at my words. I guide her to the chair, my hand firm yet tender on her lower back.
Zane’s hands steady her hips, his touch lingering, and Chase brushes his fingertips along her arm in that quiet, reassuring way of his.
She trusts us completely, and the knowledge of that trust humbles me as much as it ignites me.
The machine hums to life under my hand, a low vibration that thrums through the air. I lean in close, close enough to breathe her in. She smells like lavender and something uniquely hers—something I could lose myself in every day and never tire of.
The first touch of the needle draws a sharp gasp from her lips, and it’s like music to my ears. Her body tenses, then softens under our collective attention.
I glance up to see her eyes fluttering shut, her lips trembling with the mix of pleasure and pain.
“Breathe,” Chase whispers, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. His voice is low and soothing, yet it holds a promise—a promise we all intend to keep. “We’ve got you.”
Zane dips his head to her neck, his lips skimming the sensitive skin there. He’s slow, planting kisses that make her shiver beneath us.
His hands glide over her skin, mapping her body like he’s trying to memorize her all over again.
My focus remains steady, each line of the tattoo flowing seamlessly under my hand. The tree begins to take shape, its roots anchoring her to us, its branches a testament to everything we’ve built together.
But even as I work, I’m aware of every sound she makes, every movement she tries to suppress.
Zane’s hands shift, slipping under the lace that’s barely hanging on. The scrap of fabric joins her dress on the floor, leaving her completely bare to us. My cock hardens at the sight, but I push the raw hunger aside. For now.
“Perfect,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
Her body is art—ours to admire, cherish, and mark. My hand moves with precision, but my mind races with anticipation. The thought of what comes after this nearly undoes me.
Zane’s hands slide lower, parting her thighs, and her breath stutters. She tries to stay still, obedient, but her body betrays her, hips shifting as she seeks more.
“Patience,” I say, my voice rough, but it’s not a reprimand. It’s a promise. “We’re not done yet.”
Chase’s lips curl into a small smile as he watches her squirm under Zane’s touch. He leans down, capturing her mouth in a deep, unhurried kiss that has her melting further into the chair.
I switch places with Zane, and he begins to work on the shading. I lean down to kiss her as my fingers find her core, and she lets out a soft, keening sound that makes me ache.
Her head falls back against Chase’s chest, her lips parting as Zane fills in the lines I made on her skin. I work her slowly, teasing her to the edge but never letting her fall.
“Stay still,” I remind her, though my own control is fraying. Zane pauses, wiping the area clean, his free hand brushing her other hip, feeling the heat of her skin.
“Rick,” she breathes, her voice trembling. She reaches for me, her fingers curling in my shirt, tugging me closer. “Please…”
I press a kiss to her temple, my lips lingering there. “Not yet, sweetheart. Let us finish.”
Chase takes over with the machine, his hands steady as he adds the intricate details. I strip off my shirt, the tension in my body almost unbearable as I watch her writhe beneath the pain and pleasure my brothers are giving her.
Her skin glows under the low light, flushed and damp with exertion, and her eyes flutter open to meet mine.
I lean down to capture her mouth in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. My teeth graze her bottom lip, and she moans into me, her body arching into Zane’s touch.
Chase’s machine stops, and the room falls silent except for the sound of her ragged breathing. We take a moment to admire our work—the tree alive against her skin, its branches wrapping around her hip like an embrace.
“Beautiful,” Chase murmurs. He cleans and bandages the tattoo carefully, his touch reverent. “You’re incredible, Evie.”
But her eyes aren’t on the tattoo—they’re on us. And the heat in her gaze tells me exactly what she wants.
“No more waiting,” she says, her voice stronger now, her body trembling with need.
Zane grins, his hands already sliding up her thighs. “Then let’s give her what she wants.”
I move closer, my lips brushing her ear as I whisper, “Tonight, we make you ours. Completely.”
And then we do just that.
Zane’s lips find the sensitive spot just below her ear. She gasps as he nips at her skin, the sound spurring me on.
I take her hand and guide her up from the chair, her body pliant, trembling with anticipation. Chase pulls her into him next, his hands framing her face as he kisses her with all the quiet intensity he’s known for.
Her fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, while Zane drops to his knees behind her. His hands spread her thighs, and the first brush of his tongue along her crack makes her cry out into Chase’s mouth.
I step closer, my hand sliding over her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. She arches, pressing herself further into Chase as Zane laps into her hole.
“She tastes like heaven,” Zane mutters, his voice rough, before diving back in, his tongue now teasing her clit in lazy circles.
Chase lifts her effortlessly, laying her down onto the padded chaise he uses for posing clients during shoots. Her hair fans out behind her, her flushed body glowing in the soft light. She’s a goddess, laid bare before us, and we intend to worship her properly.
I lean over her, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s all heat and possession. My hands skim her sides, stopping to palm her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. She whimpers into my mouth, her body writhing between us, desperate for more.
“Rick,” she pleads, her hands fisting the waistband of my pants. “Please…”
“Not yet,” I murmur, though my own restraint is fraying fast. “We’re taking our time with you tonight.”
Zane’s hands grip her thighs tighter as he doubles down, his mouth devouring her, his fingers teasing her entrance. Her moans rise higher and louder, her body trembling with the effort to stay still.
“Let go, sweetheart,” Chase murmurs, his hand stroking her cheek as his other hand teases her nipple. “We’ve got you.”
Her release comes like a tidal wave, her body arching off the chaise as Zane drives her through it. She cries out, her hands clutching at us for grounding as the pleasure consumes her.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I breathe.
She turns in Zane’s arms, pulling him down for a deep kiss. Her hands slide under his shirt while Chase presses against her back, careful of the fresh tattoo.
I watch her melt between them, her body remembering our rhythms.
Chase’s hands cup her breasts from behind as Zane kisses down her neck. Her soft moans fill the candlelit room when his thumbs find her nipples, teasing them to hard peaks.
“Want to taste you again,” Zane murmurs against her throat, already dropping to his knees. His tongue finds her wet center while Chase continues working her breasts. She reaches for me, pulling me closer to kiss her deeply.
Her release builds quickly under Zane’s skilled mouth. Chase and I swallow her cries, supporting her trembling body between us.
When Zane stands, his face glistening with her arousal, she pulls him in for a passionate kiss.
“Sofa,” Chase suggests, already lifting her. She wraps her legs around his waist, and we lay her on the king-size sofa in the office.
She ends up on her hands and knees, taking Chase’s cock deep in her mouth while Zane slides into her from behind.
I stroke myself, watching them move together, her body accepting both men with practiced ease.
When Chase gets close, he pulls back. “Want to feel you properly.”
They rearrange smoothly—Chase on his back, Evie straddling him. She sinks down on his cock with a moan of satisfaction. Zane positions himself behind her, fingers working her other entrance carefully.
“Ready for both of us, baby?” Zane asks when she’s relaxed enough.
Her answering moan encourages him. He pushes in slowly while Chase stays still, letting her adjust to having both of them inside her. The sight of her taking both cocks makes my own throb with need.
They find their rhythm—Chase thrusting up while Zane pushes in, Evie moving between them in perfect counterpoint. Her cries get louder as pleasure builds.
I move to stand by her head, offering my cock to her eager mouth. She takes me deep while riding my brothers, all of us moving as one.
Her orgasm hits hard, inner muscles clenching around the cocks filling her. The sensation triggers Chase’s release while Zane and I keep going, drawing out her pleasure.
We switch positions throughout the night, taking turns filling every hole, making her come again and again until she’s limp with satisfaction. When we finally collapse together, she’s thoroughly claimed by all of us.