Chapter 36
Desmond
The A-frame comes into view, a dark silhouette under the blue-black sky. The cabin isn’t grand or luxurious—it’s small with weathered shake siding turned gray from years of lake-effect snow.
Lucas is going to love it. It’s quiet. No people, no electronics, no internet—okay, he might not like that, but the view is gorgeous, especially from the bed upstairs.
He tips his head back and takes it all in. His complexion is pale, lips bright red in contrast, cheekbones sharp. Snowflakes cling to his thick lashes. I could stare at him for hours; I love him so fucking much.
Swimming in my leather jacket, curls spilling from beneath his knit beanie, he looks way too soft for New York winters—and for us. I swear, he has cardigans stashed somewhere, along with sweater vests and argyle socks. A satchel—he definitely has a satchel.
He was fidgety around everyone, and Alexei’s obvious distrust and incessant lighter clicking only heightened his anxiety. I figure he’d appreciate getting out of the main house for a night.
Plus, it has been a day or two since we fucked, and I want to make him scream, so…
“Welcome to our little escape.” I cut ahead, eager to get inside, leaving my twin trailing behind Lucas, finishing a cigarette.
“It’s… Is that—” Lucas almost trips over a loose board on the steps but rights himself before I can catch him, “a MasterLock on the outside?”
I bark out a laugh at his alarmed expression and fish the key from my front pocket. “What? You worried we’ll lock you in? You’d love it, as long as there was a never-ending supply of coffee and energy drinks.” I should go easy on him—he was just trapped in a basement, but he’s safe with us.
He stares at the padlock, gaze skimming over the scratch marks on the door casing. “I’m not so sure.”
My brother moves in behind him, slow and silent. Before Lucas can even flinch, Dante’s hand closes around his throat, and he hauls him back against him.
“You scared of us again, Luca?” His voice is pitched between a dare and a growl.
Lucas’ chest rises and falls with rapid, shallow breaths, his pupils dilated in the moonlight. “Should I be?”
“Depends.” Dante nips at his earlobe. “What was that look you exchanged with Reece earlier?”
“No look. We were…I don’t know, confirming suspicions, verifying shared knowledge,” he rushes to explain. “That’s all.”
“Hm. Sounds like a lie. What do you think, brother? Should we lock him in the cabin or make him run through the forest so we can chase him?”
“Don’t listen to him, piccino.” I undo the padlock, drop it into my bag, and shoulder open the interior door when it sticks. “The lock is to keep bears out. Though I wouldn’t mind chasing you through the woods—when it’s above freezing. I’d rather not turn my dick into a popsicle tonight.”
“I can run faster than both of you,” Lucas taunts. “You’d have to catch me.”
“Oh yeah?” Dante brushes his lips over Lucas’ jawline. “As soon as the snow melts. Consider it a promise, baby.”
Dante guides Lucas into the cabin, mouth on his neck, just as eager to get started as I am. Before I reach for the light, he kicks the door shut, plunging us into darkness.
“If I find out you’re playing us, Agent Mercer,” he drawls, low and menacing, “I won’t hesitate to lock you in here. We’ll have our way with you. You’ll be at our mercy, with no one to save you, and we’ll never let you go.” His final words are a whisper, teasing but undeniably true.
We’d never hurt Lucas, even if he crossed us. We’d just cut off his access to the outside world. Problem solved—except, of course, we’d have to deal with Reece, and Jax, and Ethan, but that’s beside the point. I’m sure they’ll understand.
Whatever Dante is doing in the dark has Lucas panting and whimpering, “I’m not, Tay.”
Fuck, I love that. This entire conversation has my cock thickening, and I reposition my dick in my pants, giving it room.
My eyes adjust, but only slightly. I still can’t see two feet in front of me. I drop my bag and run my hand along the wall, searching for the light switch.
Before I find it, something darts across the floorboards—a shadowy blur and way too fast. Instinct kicks in; I rip my gun from its holster, finger ready on the trigger.
Lucas yelps. “What was that?”
Dante shoves our boyfriend behind him. “A rat? A squirrel, I hope. What was it, Des?”
“No clue.” I keep my piece aimed at the baseboard and sweep my other hand along the wall, still hunting for a switch. I’m discombobulated, my pulse tripping over itself. “Where the hell is the light?”
A crash ricochets through the cabin, the animal or what-the-fuck-ever knocking something over—maybe a broom or a walking stick, from the sound of it. Skis? I don’t fucking know.
Lucas backs into the door. “Is it—is it a bear?”
“Where’s your weapon?” Dante demands.
“Standing in front of me,” he replies. “You and you.”
Now I’m dialed in. That might be the best compliment I’ve received. I’m his weapon. No bear is getting through me. Not tonight, not ever.
I finally locate the switch. The bulb overhead flickers to life, its weak glow barely illuminating the doorway.
The cabin goes still, except for Lucas’ panicked rasping—oh, wait, no, that’s me.
I edge forward, gun raised, breath tight in my lungs. Something pops its head out of a rusted can beside the woodstove, and I jump.
But it’s not some giant bear or even a hell-spawned squirrel. It’s barely bigger than my thumb, cowering at the bottom of the ash can.
A mouse. Dainty, wide-eyed, with tiny ears.
I press my palm to my chest and release a heavy exhale. “It was gigantic in the moonlight, I swear.”
“That’s it?” Dante scoffs. “You screamed because of that?
“I did not scream.” Did I?
He skewers me with a hard stare. “You drew a gun on a mouse, Des.”
“I was scared for Lucas.”
“Liar. You’re unhinged lately.”
He’s one to talk. Maybe he would’ve seen the mouse if he hadn’t been threatening Lucas with abduction and free use of his ass.
“At least I didn’t shoot. Can you imagine if we’d popped off a round?” I tip my head back and laugh, adrenaline still hot in my veins. “Rocco would’ve shit bricks.”
“Ethan would’ve loaded Jax and Aurora into the car and never returned.” Dante holsters his gun.
I follow suit but keep an eye on the rodent. “What are we supposed to do with it?”
Lucas bends down and holds his hand out, palm up, as if he expects the mouse to hop on. “Let it live. He won’t hurt anybody.”
He flashes puppy eyes, and there’s no way I’m killing the thing.
Dante grunts, seemingly unimpressed, and ransacks a cabinet until he finds a box of matches and some old newspaper to start a fire.
Gently lifting the can, Lucas opens the door and sets it outside. “I’m sorry, little buddy, but you can’t stay inside. I know you’re smart—you’ll find your way back in.”
He peels off his hat and jacket, hanging them on a hook beside the door, then toes off his boots. His shaggy curls are piled atop his head, and he rakes his fingers through the mess, trying to tame it. He’s so adorable.
I toss my coat onto the back of the couch and check the fridge. It’s stocked with the essentials—alcohol and water, boxes of frozen pizza in the freezer. “Looks like Mr. Harris stopped by.”
Dante crouches in front of the wood stove and adds a few dry logs, newspaper, and kindling. “Or Pax and Niko snuck in at some point. Better change the sheets.”
Lucas goes straight to the panoramic windows on the opposite side of the cabin to check out the view. I crack open a beer and take a long pull, then unclip the holster from my belt and tuck it away in my bag.
Dante gets the fire roaring and rises to his feet. “Strip, Luca.”
Gaze fixed on the moonlit lake, Lucas jolts, startled from his thoughts. I wonder what he was thinking about. Probably contemplating some hacker code or whether we’re going to murder him. He must like the thrill of danger. We seem to terrify him, yet he sleeps in our bed every night.
“Now,” Dante adds, deepening his tone.
I lean on the counter and watch as Lucas unbuttons his jeans and yanks his sweater over his head. He lets it fall to the floor, then pauses, toying with the hem of his undershirt.
We’re infatuated with a shy nerd. Before him, our dating scene was limited to clubs and bars.
You won’t find quiet, introverted types like him in noisy, crowded social gatherings.
That explains why nothing ever worked out.
We were hunting in the wrong places—or I was.
My brother never gave a shit. I should’ve been hitting up bookstores and comic conventions.
Although our destined boyfriend was probably hiding in a surveillance van, behind a computer screen, downing energy drinks.
“All of it.” Dante drops onto the couch and unlaces his boots, never breaking his hungry stare. “And don’t turn around. I want to see what’s mine.”
Lucas complies—tugs off his pants, tosses his shirt, then stands there in his polka-dot socks and…bikini briefs? Is that what they’re called? Underwear, high-cut, showing off his tight ass? The small bit of fabric is stretched taut, doing nothing to hide his obvious arousal.
“Ran out of boxers,” he says, eyes downcast, toes digging into the hardwood.
He hugs his stomach, covering his burn scars, and I can’t wait until he’s free of that self-conscious habit. There’s no need for it. He’s perfect.
Dante steps forward, his gaze raking over every inch of Lucas. “Stop that. You’re beautiful. I like the underwear. Now take them off.”
“Um…” Lucas shivers and glances out the window.
He’ll be warm soon—sweating, hopefully.
“No one will see you,” Dante assures him. “I’d never let that happen. Nothing’s out there but trees and water.”
Lucas worries at his bottom lip, then hooks his thumbs into the waistband and shoves his briefs down. His cock springs free, hard and ready. How was it even contained in there? Poor thing. My dick would never—it’d be finding its way out all day.
His wary gaze darts between us, his fingers fidgeting at his sides, fighting the instinct to shield himself.
If only he knew he possessed all the power.
We’ve surrendered to him completely; he’s it for us.
He thinks he’s at our mercy, but the truth is we’re the vulnerable ones, held captive by his timid glances and soft touches. We’d do anything for him.
“Fuck. Look at you.” Dante’s lips curve into a predatory smile. “Turn around. Hands on the glass. Spread your legs.”
Lucas doesn’t hesitate. He faces the lake, palms flat on the tall window, and spreads his legs.
His body is extraordinary. All lean, toned muscle, narrow waist, and his ass—God, that ass—perky and perfectly round.
Dante stalks up behind him and nudges his feet wider, then seizes his hips and draws them back. “Stay just like that.”
He kisses Lucas’ nape and down his bruised spine, vertebra by vertebra, until he’s kneeling.
I’ve never seen my twin worship another person’s body.
He’s always been the definition of detached—fuck and flee.
No kissing. No cuddling. Nothing. Affection is rare, even with family.
Only awkward side hugs when prompted. Growing up, I was the exception because I needed it, needed our connection to get through being the weaker, underdeveloped twin.
Now, here Dante is, on his knees, literally kissing Lucas’ ass, his teeth marking those perfect cheeks as if he’s claiming his territory.
Lucas releases a soft moan, and my jeans become a prison, my cock straining the denim. I chug my beer in one swig, set the bottle down, and push off the counter. I rifle through my bag until I find lube and pocket it.
“You know what he needs?” I say to my brother, my tone husky despite just wetting my throat. “A plug for his ass so he’s always ready for us.” And to remind him who he belongs to.
I envision Lucas, all prim and proper, his ass secretly stuffed and stretched, and my cock throbs. Fuck, I want that, want to own every inch of him.
Dante soothes his marks with kisses. “Would you like that, Luca? Something inside you, keeping you ready for us?”
He writhes his hips. “Yes. Anything.”
Dante rewards his answer by spreading him open and teasing his rim with flicks of his tongue. I kick off my boots and yank my shirt over my head. Dante delves deeper, alternating between using his tongue and fingers, and Lucas goes from whimpers to desperate moans, his back arched, his eyes closed.
Unable to wait any longer, I get to my knees between him and the window. His erection stands straight up, leaking onto his stomach. I fist his length, and he gasps, his eyes flying open. He was so consumed by desire he hadn’t noticed my approach.
His hand slides off the glass and threads through my hair. Fuck, he’s stunning—features contorted with pleasure, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, eyes glazed with need.
“Stay where you are.” I pepper his scars with kisses and stroke him slowly. “Be good and let us have our way with you. How many times can you come?”
His brows furrow. “What?”
“How many times can you come for us?”
“I-I don’t know,” he pants. “Once? Twice?”
He appears genuinely confused, as if he never spent a night having orgasms wrung out of him. We’ll work up to it.
Behind him, Dante continues his assault, face buried in Lucas’ ass, hands gripping his slim waist.
“Please.” Lucas rocks his hips and thrusts into my palm. “Touch me.”
“Don’t move, piccino.”
He stills, and I lick the precum from his tip, groaning at the taste of him.
“Good boy.” I take him into my mouth, and, not wasting a second more, hollow my cheeks and suck him hard.
A strangled cry rips from his throat. “Ah…fuck,” he moans between ragged breaths. “Des—”
I cup his tight balls, massaging gently, and hum around his shaft.
He makes a choking sound, gaze locked on mine, eyes half-lidded. “Des… Tay… Please, fuck me. I need you inside me.”
Nothing compares to this—Lucas trapped between us, overwhelmed with pleasure from both ends, begging and pleading.
I withdraw and swirl my tongue over his crown. “We’ll fuck you when we’re ready.” I engulf him again, working my way down his length until he hits the back of my throat, my nose almost pressed to his abdomen.
He fills my mouth fully—not too big, not small, and I wonder if he’s vers or strictly bottom. Would he want to switch it up? He would if I wanted him to, I bet, but would he enjoy it?
I warm his cock, sucking gently and teasing the underside with my tongue, while Dante stretches him open. Lucas thrusts, seeking friction, and I hold his hips steady.
“Des,” he begs, rough and desperate. “I’m so close. Please.”
Giving in to his pleas, I take him deeper and swallow around him. He cries out, jerks in my mouth, and I taste the salty warning of his precum.
I pull away and grip him at the base. “Don’t you dare come. We’re not done with you yet.”
Dante gets to his feet and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You ready for us, Luca?”