Epilogue
Four Months Later
Freddie
If Ryker had told me in advance this was how we’d end up, I wouldn’t have believed him.
There’s no way I could’ve pictured it in my head.
But right now it doesn’t matter what I look like, it’s how I’m feeling, and it feels like Ryker is destroying me with sex.
His favourite position is standing up, and that kind of sex—the vertical kind—is not a position I’m familiar with.
I’ve had a lot of slow, intense sex from Liam, and a few fast and furious fucks, missionary and doggy style with Ryker, but this is the first time Ryker’s been on his feet.
Turns out I’m not vertical in this equation.
My body is a right angle, both my thighs are either side of Ryker’s hips, and I’m defying gravity thanks to Ryker’s and Liam’s hands.
Ryker is holding the underside of my thighs, and so is Liam.
Their fingers might even be interlocking as they hold me up.
Liam is the wall at my back, holding me securely to be fucked by his brother.
I’m helpless in this position, a restrained slave to pleasure.
And my god is this position pleasurable.
I’m dizzy with it. I love hearing Ryker’s gasps and pants, the slap of his balls on my arse—not a sound I’d ever thought I’d hear let alone shiver at, but its constant beat is a cacophony as Ryker works himself into a frenzy.
Neither of them needs to touch my cock, it’s straining and slapping my belly with the pounding Ryker is giving me, and that’s enough stimulus for it to leak precum onto my skin.
But it’s the sensations going on inside that have left me agape.
My skin’s buzzing in a way I’ve never experienced.
That sensitive bulb of nerves inside me is being jackhammered by Ryker’s cock, and I can’t think of anything else.
That relentless thud has taken me to the brink of sanity, and the only thing I manage to say is Ryker’s name.
It’s soft at first, escaping on a gasp, but I say it again and again, until I’m shouting it to the kitchen ceiling.
I don’t think of the kitchen as a place to have sex, but I think that appeals to Ryker.
Fucking in a place not designed for it is erotic to him, and with the window blinds up, anyone could see the three of us going at it.
The fact that I’m calling out his name might encourage someone close by to peek in, and what will they see?
They’ll see me sandwiched between twins, being held up by one and fucked by the other.
I wish I could look in on us. I wish I could see what their beautiful bodies look like from afar as they take me apart.
I wish I could see what I look like crying out Ryker’s name, incapable of doing anything else while his cock nudges that place inside me.
Ryker’s eyes are shut. His face is scrunched.
He’s mindless in his fucking, using his gym-toned body for one goal.
He wants me to come, his cock demands I come, and I’ve held out long enough.
Correction, I’ve not held out at all, he’s been pushing me closer and closer, and it’s been a punchy escalation.
Now here it is. He thrusts, and I go over.
My orgasm is blunt and severe, spreading out like a bomb blast. I scream Ryker’s name a final time, and my toes curl as I come untouched.
It’s messy, unrestrained. Cum runs over the edges of my chest and falls onto the tiles.
Liam sees and moans at the sight, but Ryker still has his eyes closed, easing off with his thrusts.
His heart pounds hard enough I feel it more than my own.
The involuntary seizing of my hole comes to an end, and he picks up the pace again, using my body to bring his relief.
He gasps my name when he releases inside me, and he rocks his hips shallowly as he delivers his load into my body. It feels oddly special to be the receiver of their cum. These powerful alpha males weaken themselves in my body.
Ryker’s sweaty and panting, but he’s laughing too. He kisses me hard on the mouth, pushing his tongue in to meet mine.
Liam lowers my thighs, and I stand up, only to find my knees weak and my thighs trembling. Ryker has the same kind of stance, wobbly, which makes sense considering he put all the work in, but I don’t have a reason for my jelly legs.
I take a step, and of course I drop like a stone.
Liam catches me beneath the armpits, then picks me up bridal style.
He walks me from the kitchen into the living room, then sits down on the sofa with me still in is arms. Ryker comes in a minute later, still out of breath, but holding a bottle of fridge-cool water for me to drink.
“Here . . .”
Liam cups the back of my neck and lifts me to aid with the drinking process. If I didn’t feel so weak, I’d tell them both I’m more than capable of drinking by myself.
“That’s enough for now,” Liam says, and Ryker takes the bottle away while I ask for more by twitching my eyebrows.
Ryker lifts my legs to sit down beside us.
He immediately starts rubbing my feet, and I wince at the overstretched feeling in my soles.
I curled my toes that hard as I came that I’ve given myself a cramp.
Ryker works it out of me while Liam gazes into my eyes.
It’s a soft look he hits me with, an awed one, and I’m not sure I’m deserving of it, but he strokes my cheek with his thumb and everything about how he acts around me—how they both act—makes me believe I might be worthy of their love.
They’ve given it to me. It’s potent. But more than that, it feels right.
It works.
This relationship works, and I get to have my best friends, my best lovers, my best champions all the time.
When I tell them I want to spend the money I saved for the wedding on a history degree, they encourage me, tell me I’m going to smash it with no doubt in their minds.
We still play on the Xbox together, we still go to the bar most Saturday evenings, and I go with them to the gym—we’re friends, that’s not changed—but when we’re out, they sometimes pass a look between them, a secret signal that they want to get me home, and I go willingly, needing them to push me up against the door once they get me inside.
In one way, they’re fantastic teachers of sex, introducing me to sensations I’d never have found on my own, but in another way, they’re awful, always distracting me when I try to reciprocate.
They tease me with the “pillow princess” title, but when I’m jerking or sucking one of them, the other can’t keep his hands to himself.
I end up coming while trying to make them come, sometimes multiple times, and my frustration and embarrassment at my inability to complete the task I’ve set myself only fuels this game they play with my body.
They love making me come. It means more to them than their own pleasure.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Liam asks, as he brushes his fingers through my hair.
“Thinking,” I manage, but it’s soft, distant to my own ears.
Ryker leans over to speak to me. “Care to share?”
I wet my lips. “I was thinking that meeting the two of you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Liam’s fingers pause in my hair.
Ryker whistles. “I need to nail your prostate more often if it means you come out with things like that.”
“Ryker,” Liam growls.
“We love you too, princess.” Ryker says fondly. “Very much so.”
And if I was more with it, I’d tell him I wasn’t their princess, that they don’t play fair in the bedroom, they set me up to fail. But as it happens, I’m still basking in the afterglow of my orgasm, and only smile up at both brothers.
I’m theirs, and they’re mine.
My best men.
The End