Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
ALL BETS ARE OFF
Ezra’s mouth is on mine, warm and deliberate.
His lips part just enough to let me taste the faintest hint of bergamot tea he was drinking lingering on his tongue.
His glasses press cool against my cheek for the briefest second before he tilts his head, deepening the kiss with a precision that steals my breath.
My brain short-circuits, synapses firing in chaotic bursts.
I’ve kissed this man before, the memory of last night still fresh, still electric, but this is different.
This is Ezra. Quiet, careful Ezra, who speaks in measured sentences and senses magic like it’s a blueprint he’s memorized by heart.
Ezra, who has never once given me the impression that he’s the kind of man who would just suggest they ‘reassure’ me, but here he is, his hands cradling my face like I’m something fragile, something precious.
His kiss isn’t hesitant. It’s hungry. It’s starving.
A groan vibrates against my ear, low and rough, and I realize with a jolt that I’d forgotten, completely forgotten I’m still in Maceo’s lap.
His thighs are solid beneath me, his hands steady on my waist, my back, my thigh, keeping me close like he refuses to let me slip away.
Then there’s the hard press of his cock underneath me, thick and insistent, leaving no doubt about how much he enjoys the sight of Ezra claiming my mouth.
The sweater dress I’m wearing feels like too much fabric and not enough all at once.
It’s soft against my skin, but I’m hyperaware of every place Maceo’s fingers press into the knit, of the heat of his body seeping through the layers, branding me.
Ezra’s kiss isn’t just confident; it’s consuming.
There’s a focus to it, a single-minded intensity —he wasn’t lying when he said he’d been waiting a long time to do this.
His tongue strokes desperately against mine, his fingers quiver just slightly against my cheekbones.
His thumbs brush my skin like he can’t believe I’m here, and I melt into him, into this, because I don’t have to wonder if I’m wanted.
Not by him. Not by any of them. The want is right here, in the way Maceo’s grip tightens on my hips, in the way Ezra’s breath hitches when I nip at his lower lip.
There’s something else too, a hollow ache in my chest, a pull so strong it’s almost painful.
It’s Lucien. His presence is warm and steady, like sunlight breaking through clouds after a storm.
He’s not distant, not detached, just observing, choosing to step into this moment with us.
When I finally open my eyes and meet his, there’s no amusement there. No teasing. Just quiet certainty.
There’s no confusion about what this is. This isn’t some random accident, some fleeting moment of weakness. This is them choosing me. This is me choosing them.
Lucien’s voice cuts through the haze, smooth and deliberate, like honey poured over gravel.
“We should not continue this here.” I blink up at him, dazed, my lips still tingling from Ezra’s kiss, and it takes me a second to realize he’s right.
The dining table is not the place for this.
Sir is nowhere to be found, and a part of me is grateful my Familiar made himself scarce.
Thank the heavens, because if he’d been here, watching, I might have died of embarrassment.
Maceo’s hands tighten on my waist, and then he lifts me like I weigh nothing, standing in one fluid motion.
Ezra doesn’t pull away, he just moves, following Maceo’s lead, his mouth leaving mine only to press softer kisses to my jaw, my throat, like he’s memorizing the shape of me with his lips.
Lucien steps closer, his fingers brushing the small of my back as Maceo sets me on my feet, and then we’re moving as a unit.
There’s no clumsy awkwardness, no hesitation.
Just four people who have somehow decided, without words, that this is happening.
The walk to my bedroom feels like a dream.
Maceo’s hand is warm on the back of my neck, his thumb traces slow circles against my skin.
Ezra’s fingers are laced with mine, his grip firm, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
Lucien’s presence is a steady warmth at my side, his shoulder brushes mine every few steps, grounding me.
No one speaks, but we don’t need to. The decision has already been made.
When we cross the threshold, the air shifts. The weight of what’s about to happen settles over me, thick and heavy with anticipation. I don’t have to hold back, and I don’t have to choose.
Maceo turns me to face him, his eyes dark with want, and there’s something softer there too, something that makes my pulse stutter.
He cups my face in his big hands, thumbs brushing my cheekbones, and for a second, I think he’s going to say something.
Then his mouth is on mine, and any words I might have had dissolve into a sigh.
His kiss is rough, demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like he’s claiming me, and I let him. I want him to.
Ezra’s hands find my hips, pulling me back against him, his body molding to mine.
His fingers roam up and down my sides, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of my dress before brushing over my nipples through the fabric.
A light caress, just enough to make me gasp into Maceo’s mouth.
The sound only spurs him on, his kiss deepens, his hands slide down to grip my ass, pulling me flush against him.
I’m sandwiched between them, Ezra’s length presses into my back, hard and demanding, and I can feel how much he wants this, how much he’s been holding back.
Breaking the kiss to come up for air, I reach up, wrapping my hand behind Ezra’s neck to pull him closer. Maceo doesn’t miss a beat, leaning in to pepper kisses over my collarbone, his teeth graze my skin just hard enough to make me shiver.
“Ez,” I pant, turning my head to seek his lips.
His breath is warm against my ear when he murmurs, “Tell me this is okay.”
For a moment, I’m stunned by the question, like there’s any doubt in my mind, but then I nod, my fingers tighten in his hair.
Because it’s more than okay. It’s right.
It’s the way his hands tremble against my skin, the way Maceo’s grip on my hips is almost bruising, the way Lucien watches us with hunger in his eyes.
It’s the way my body hums with need, with want, with something deeper, something I don’t have a name for yet.
Lucien steps beside Ezra, boxing me in, his fingers trace the line of Ezra’s jaw before he leans in, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.
The sight of it, Lucien, kissing Ezra, doesn’t surprise me, but it does send a shiver down my spine, a direct line straight to my clit.
When he meets my eyes, there’s a promise in them.
A promise that this isn’t just about me. This is about us. All of us.
Maceo’s hands slide under my sweater dress, pushing it up and over my head in one smooth motion.
The cool air hits my heated skin, but I don’t have time to feel exposed or insecure before Ezra’s mouth is on mine again, his hands skim over my sides, cupping my breasts, squeezing and needing.
Lucien’s fingers find the clasp of my bra, and then that’s gone too, and I’m standing in nothing but my panties, surrounded by three men who look at me like I’m something precious. A goddess, even.
Maceo drops to his knees in front of me, his hands slide up my thighs, and I gasp when his mouth sucks at my pussy through the lace of my panties.
The wet heat of his tongue seeps through the fabric, teasing my clit, and I whimper, my fingers flying to his hair.
“You’re perfect, Beautiful,” he growls against me, his voice rough.
“You were made for us.” He inhales deeply, his nose brushes over my clit, and then he sucks again, harder this time, his tongue works the lace against my sensitive flesh.
My head falls back against Ezra’s shoulder as I let out a broken whimper. Oh my God.
My knees wobble hard enough that Ezra catches me immediately, one arm slides around my waist as he holds me firm against him while Maceo grips my thighs and continues to take me apart with his mouth.
Ezra’s hands are in my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me again, swallowing every moan and gasp that spills from my lips.
I’m nothing but sensation, Maceo’s mouth on my pussy, Ezra’s tongue in my mouth, Lucien’s fingers pinch and pull at my nipples, his teeth graze my skin before he leans in to take one into the warmth of his mouth.
His tongue swirls around the peak, soothing the ache before he bites down just hard enough to draw a gasp from me.
His eyes are dark with desire, locked onto mine, like he wants me to see it all. To feel it. To know that this is real.
I should feel overwhelmed. I should feel like I’m in over my head, but I don’t.
I want more. So much more. Because this isn’t just about desire.
It’s about connection, about trust. It’s about the way Maceo’s hands ground me, the way Ezra’s touch makes me feel seen, the way Lucien’s presence makes me feel chosen.
“Please,” I beg against Ezra’s lips, my voice breaking.
Lucien releases my nipple with a wet pop, his breath hot against my skin. “Please, what, Sweetness?”
“I need you,” I gasp. “I need all of you.”