Epilogue #2
I gave him a playful smile, and he grinned back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I took his cock into my mouth, working in perfect rhythm, my eyes never leaving his.
His hands found the back of my head, pulling me closer, urging me to take more of him.
I obliged, my throat relaxing, accommodating his length.
He sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw tightening, that boyish bravado of his flickering into something rawer. Pure need.
“Professor…” His hands fumbled in my hair like he couldn’t decide whether to pull me closer or hold himself back. The tension in him was addictive. It was hot and on a hair-trigger.
Every small sound he made went straight through me. His head tipped back for a second, a soft groan escaping him and that was when I felt it: the point where he was about to lose control.
I pulled away.
Just barely. Just enough.
Cam blinked hard, eyes blown dark with arousal.
“Professor Carrington,” he breathed, wrecked and wanting.
I traced a slow line along his shaft, letting my lips linger just long enough to make him shiver.
“Not yet,” I whispered.
His answering groan was half frustration, half worship. Holding him right there, on the edge, felt almost as good as letting him fall.
I could feel the pull between them all, the rhythm building, an unspoken understanding that nothing was forbidden here.
Brock was next, and the second our eyes locked, something in my stomach tightened.
He didn’t look at me the way Cam did. There was no impatience or bounce of youthful eagerness. Brock watched me like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and exactly what I would do to him. That look alone made heat pool between my legs.
I shifted toward him, and his gaze tracked the movement as if it cost him something not to touch me. His breath came deeper, heavier, his whole body tightening as I settled in front of him.
“Come here,” he murmured. It was barely a whisper, but thick enough to light every nerve along my spine.
I leaned in, letting my lips brush his thigh first, soft and slow. His breath stuttered. God, I loved that. Loved the way a man his size could still unravel in the smallest ways.
When I finally took him into my mouth, the sound he made hit me low and hard.
A deep, rough groan. Raw enough to make my thighs clench.
His hands slid into my hair immediately, anchoring himself.
His fingers tightened each time my tongue dragged along his hard length, every small reaction thrumming through my whole body.
I could feel his control strain, feel him fighting not to give in too fast.
The power of that, of him trying to hold steady for me, sent a rush of heat flooding through me. Especially as I glanced beyond him at all the empty seats, a reminder that we were doing this in my classroom.
But after breaking so many taboos, doing it here filled me with a thrill of excitement, not fear.
I pulled back just enough to breathe against Brock’s crown, my lips still brushing his skin. His grip on my hair tightened, hips shifting like his body betrayed him.
“Oh, fuck…” he warned, voice dark and frayed at the edges.
I gave him one last, slow, lingering stroke of my tongue. Enough to make his breath catch. Then I pulled away.
Brock exhaled hard, like I’d punched the air out of his lungs. His jaw flexed. His hands fell from my hair, the restraint almost painful to watch.
I met his eyes, heat simmering between us.
“Not yet,” I whispered, still tasting him on my lips.
His answering curse was soft, reverent, and full of promise.
“I need to feel you all inside me,” I said, voice hoarse. “Like we talked about.”
Cam grinned. “That’s why we’re here.”
We moved together, an intricate, impossible puzzle of limbs and heat and friction. The world became nothing more than the feel of their bodies and the heat of their skin meshed with mine.
By the time the four of us moved to the desk on the lecture platform, my dress was discarded, a tangled heap on the floor, and all three of them were pressing against me in turns, hands and lips and teeth tracing over every inch of exposed skin.
My mind was only half present, half lost in the wave of sensation, my body moving with them almost of its own accord.
“I need to feel you. All of you,” I breathed, and it came out ragged. A confession I’d been dying to make.
Everything after that blurred into heat and hands, my body pulled gently then insistently between them. Like we were too far gone for anything but instinct.
“We came prepared,” Brock said, retrieving a bottle of lube from his pants on the floor.
Jace sank into the chair behind the desk, broad shoulders relaxed, but his gaze locked on me like he couldn’t look away.
I climbed onto his lap, the head of his cock nudging me, and when I lowered myself onto him, the stretch knocked the air right out of my lungs.
He filled me slow, deep, until my thighs were trembling and his fingers dug into my hips like he needed the grounding as badly as I did.
“Oh my God,” he exhaled.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“It’s just wild being up on stage instead of out in the audience,” he said, jaw tightening.
“That’s what you’re amazed by?” Cam asked. “And not the fact that your professor is currently riding you on stage?”
Jace grabbed my ass with both hands. “I mean, yeah, that too.”
Brock came up behind me, one big palm sliding down my spine, steadying me. His breath brushed my ear as he pressed his cock between my cheeks. Just letting me feel him there. A promise. My core clenched, warmth blooming where I wanted them most.
“Yes,” I breathed, letting him know I could handle it.
Then Cam knelt beside us and I turned toward him, my hand wrapping around the base of his cock as I took him into my mouth.
His taste hit me immediately, earthy and familiar, and his fingers threaded into my hair.
I could feel him fighting to keep his hips still as his groan echoed in the cavernous lecture room.
Jace rolled his hips up into me, and the movement made me moan around Cam. I felt the rumble of it in my throat, felt Cam’s answering shudder.
Behind me, Brock shifted. “Easy,” he murmured, the word vibrating against my skin as he guided himself to my entrance.
The first press made my breath stutter. It was hot, stretching, intense—even with the lube.
Jace’s fingers dug into my cheeks and spread me wide, holding me open for Brock like this was something they’d coordinated without words.
When Brock pushed in, inch by inch, my whole body bowed. I was caught between pleasure and the dizzying fullness of being taken from both sides. Jace groaned, head tipping back, and the sound alone nearly undid me.
“I didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he gritted out.
Cam brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, voice low. “Look at me.” I did, hollowing my cheeks as I took him deeper, and the way he exhaled made me clench around Jace, and made Brock grip my hips harder.
The three of them moved with a rhythm that shouldn’t have been possible. Jace thrusting up into me, Brock driving into my ass from behind in counterpoint, Cam tightening his grip in my hair as my mouth worked him. Back and forth, up and down, we moved together like it was a coordinated dance.
No one rushed. No one pushed for the finish. It was deliberate, consuming, like they wanted to feel every twitch and tremor of my body. Like they’d been waiting two long weeks for this.
Heat coiled through me. My thighs shook, my breath catching around Cam, my back arching as Jace hit that spot deep inside me every time Brock slid home. My whole body felt strung tight, electric.
Jace bucked his hips under me, thrusting deeper and harder, his looming climax forcing his movements into a faster pace. Brock matched it without hesitation.
And deep down, the fact that we were doing this in my classroom heightened the pleasure to an unbelievable degree. Danger, and taboo, and the forbidden nature of everything we had done this semester culminating in this final, sinful act.
The sound of their low groans and ragged breaths mingled with the tremor of my own, vibrating through me in a delicious, unrelenting wave.
Every inch of skin pressed to theirs was a spark, a pull, a shock of want that left me shaking.
I could feel their focus on me, how they were all entirely mine in that moment, and it made my stomach twist with desperate heat.
I was suspended between them, pulled in three directions at once, and the raw, constant ache of need that their bodies drew out of me was so intense I thought I might shatter.
And I didn’t want to stop—not for anything—not even for a second.
I couldn’t even tell where one sensation ended and the next began; I just rode it, lost in the chaos of how alive they made me feel.
Jace’s grip tightened first. “Lila… Fuck, I’m—”
His words broke off into a groan as he pulsed inside me, the warmth spreading deep. The ecstasy on his face looked almost painful with its intensity, and the sight of that alone was enough to make me come undone in my own earthquake of an orgasm.
I screamed in bliss, grateful to have Cam’s cock to muffle the sound.
Brock followed, thrusts turning rougher, more ragged.
He drove into my tight backdoor like there was no tomorrow, like this was the real final exam and he intended to earn a perfect grade.
He pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades as he came with a low growl, his body shuddering against mine, cock pulsing with release inside my forbidden entrance.
Cam, who had been watching all of this with hungry eyes, only lasted a heartbeat longer. Just long enough to pull free of my mouth before he spilled across my tongue and lips, his breath catching on my name. “Professor Carrington!”
I grabbed the base of his cock and pulled it back into my lips, sucking down every drop he had to give, desperate to have him fill me with his seed like the other two had done.
Our sounds—groans, gasps, my own desperate noises tangled between them—filled the room, thick and intimate. The heat of them, the weight of them, the way they held me through it… that’s what finally tipped me over again.
My second orgasm ripped through me like fire and electricity tangled together, and I had no control over the way my body reacted.
Jace’s heat beneath me, Brock pressing into me from behind, Cam’s mouth and hands sending sparks through every nerve.
Every inch of me burned with the intensity of it.
I clutched at my three men blindly, hands digging into shoulders, arms, and anything solid, as my muscles clenched and shuddered, each wave of pleasure stacking on the one before until I couldn’t tell where I ended and they began.
I gasped and cried out, letting the sound tear from my chest, not caring if anyone heard me.
My body felt impossibly alive, stretching and trembling, caught in a delicious storm of desire and satisfaction.
My back arched, hips rolling, and there was nothing but the relentless rhythm of them filling me up with desire and need.
Every shiver of their skin against mine made my head spin, every groan from their lips fanned the heat higher.
Their names spilled from me. Raw, unguarded. I was held and wanted. And my whole body felt it.
Pleasure clawed through me again and again, waves crashing, my breath ragged and sharp, tears prickling at the edges of my eyes.
I had never felt so full, so claimed, so utterly undone, and yet so wanted.
My body shook violently with the last few pulses, and as the waves eased, the thrum of desire still humming through me kept me tethered to all three of them.
I collapsed in a gasping, trembling mess, totally lost in the fire they ignited in me in the classroom that had been my home for so much of this semester.
The world outside the dais ceased. The overhead lights caught the sheen of sweat, the way our bodies moved in rhythm without needing command.
We collapsed together afterward, limbs entwined, a heap of heat and satisfaction in the chair and on the desk.
Their touches became softer then, a contrast to the storm we’d just ridden.
I traced lines along Jace’s arm, felt the warmth of Cam’s cheek against mine, and Brock’s hand threaded through mine as if anchoring me to the here and now.
“I, uh, spilled some on the desk,” Cam announced. “I’ll clean that up. I don’t want my DNA to be discovered on campus.”
“I see you’ve already taken Criminology 207,” I breathed. “Principles of Evidence in Criminal Cases.”
The three of them laughed at the silly joke.
“So?” Brock asked. “What do you think?”
“About the four of us?” I replied. “I think we’ll do just fine this summer, even without the excitement of me being your professor.”
“I meant what do you think about my grade? Can you bump it up four points?”
“Oh my God, you’re relentless!” I said. “If you apply that attitude to your career, you’ll make a great detective.”
“Can you write that down?” Brock asked. “I was meaning to ask you for a letter of recommendation for this class I want to take in the fall, but it’s full…”
I giggled and let myself sink into the moment.
The waves of exhaustion and euphoria washed over me.
My relationship with these three men was messy, imperfect, and intense…
but it was also amazing. And I realized I didn’t need to think about what came next, or what this meant, or whether we would still be falling in love by the time the fall semester rolled around.
Right now, in this tangle of limbs and laughter and whispered names, it was enough. More than enough.
It was everything I ever could have dreamed of.