Chapter Twenty-Three
Juliet
Orion and Noah could not believe what I told them.
Well, Orion could. He was so excited that the minute I picked up new blindfolds and restraints, he insisted they needed to be tested immediately.
And for the record? They do hold a man Orion’s size. If he’s playing along. If he really wanted out, he could snap them like thread. But he didn’t. He stayed right where I put him, tied down, blindfolded, trembling under my touch. I ruined him that night. He came so hard, so fast, I thought I might’ve broken him.
Noah? Skeptical. But that’s okay.
Because once he sees Elliot, sees the way he controls things with nothing more than a slow blink and a perfectly disapproving glare, he’ll understand. And when they start talking? God, it’s gonna be so good. Elliot and Orion working together gives them common ground, and Elliot and Noah? They can talk poetry, philosophy, the deeper meaning behind Noah’s lyrics. It’s all coming together so perfectly.
If Elliot joins them at the gym? That’ll be a bonus. But I don’t need him for that. I need him for something else entirely.
And I need tonight to go perfectly.
So I’m making refined comfort food. My men like things hearty and homemade, but Elliot’s a bit more sophisticated, so I’m meeting them in the middle. Chicken fried steak, made from scratch, of course. Twice-baked potatoes because regular mashed would be lazy. And for dessert? Parfaits. Something delicate, elegant.
Not that we might even make it to dessert.
Because Orion and Noah? They’re not helping.
I mean, they are. Orion is slicing potatoes like he’s preparing for battle, Noah is whipping up a sauce with his perfect, strong musician’s hands. But in between all that?
They keep grabbing me.
Orion has already untied my apron twice. I feel his breath on my neck before I feel his teeth, and fuck, he’s in a mood tonight.
Noah keeps dragging his fingers up the inside of my thigh every time he walks past me, slipping under my dress like he’s just checking if I’m wearing panties. (Spoiler: I’m not.)
“We do have a guest coming,” I remind them, dodging Orion’s hands as he tries to slide my dress off my shoulders.
“Uh-huh.” Noah licks a bit of sauce off his thumb, watching me the whole time.
God, I love them.
“Seriously.” I point a wooden spoon at them. “We behave until Elliot gets here.”
Orion smirks. “And after?”
I grin. Oh, after?
We’re not behaving at all.
When the doorbell rings at exactly seven, my heart flutters.
Because he came.
And that means he’s ours now.
Orion is already moving, striding out of the kitchen like he’s about to pat down our dinner guest instead of greet him. I follow fast, Noah right on my heels, because God only knows what comes out of Orion’s mouth unsupervised.
And then, I see him.
Elliot.
My sir.
Slacks. Crisp button-up. The blue brings out the steel in his eyes, which flick between Orion and Noah before finally landing on me.
His gaze trails down, slow and assessing. Over my legs. The hem of my adorable apron. Up, past the delicate lace of my neckline, until it meets my eyes.
I beam. “I’m so glad you came.”
Elliot lifts a single red rose and a long, slim box of chocolates.
Orion, bless him, leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
“Those for me?” Orion asks, utterly deadpan.
Elliot barely blinks. “You’re campus security, right?”
Behind me, Noah perks up. “Wait, you guys know each other?”
Orion smirks, but doesn’t take his eyes off Elliot. “Orion will do.” He flicks a look back at Noah, amused. “And no. Just seen him in passing.”
I step toward Elliot, take the rose, and deliberately press a kiss to his jaw. “Thank you,” I murmur.
Elliot dips his head slightly. I see the way his fingers flex at his sides, the way his jaw tenses when I stay close. Oh, he’s feeling it.
Then, he looks at Noah. “And who’s this?”
Noah extends a hand, grinning like this is perfectly normal. “Noah,” he says easily. “I’m the first. Orion is our middle child. And I guess that makes you the baby.”
I lose it.
Orion chokes on air.
Elliot… just blinks.
For the first time since I’ve met him, I don’t think he has any idea how to respond.
I grin. “Come on in, baby.”
Noah actually winks.
Elliot exhales, slow, like he’s recalculating his entire life’s choices.
But he steps inside.
And just like that?
He’s ours.
Dinner is perfect.
Twice-baked potatoes, homemade chicken-fried steak, and three of the most beautiful men I have ever laid my very fortunate eyes on.
We’re all served, and, of course, it’s Orion who breaks the silence first.
My beautiful beast.
He’s never let Noah feel awkward, not even that first night when I bound them together, and I just know he’s going to do the same for Elliot.
Because Orion is fearless.
Orion is direct.
Orion, my precious lunatic, is an agent of fucking chaos.
“So, is this your first foursome?” Orion asks casually, cutting into his steak.
I barely manage not to choke.
Noah, bless his heart, doesn’t even blink, just takes another bite of potatoes. “It’ll be mine and Orion’s first too.”
Oh my God.
Across the table, Elliot keeps chewing. Doesn’t even look flustered.
And then, he does it.
Draws his mouth into a slow, knowing smirk. “No.”
I freeze.
Heart stopping, eyes locked on him, breath catching in my throat.
He just keeps eating. Like he didn’t just casually level my entire existence. “I have many kinks,” he adds, voice silky smooth.
Jesus Christ.
Do we even have to eat? Can we just get to the part where I belong to all three of them at once?
I bite my lip, thighs pressing together under the table.
Orion grins, like he knew Elliot was going to be a fun addition. “Shit yeah, and the blindfold stuff. Yeah, huge thanks for that, by the way,” Orion says, lifting his fork in an almost-toast.
Noah sips his drink, watching the conversation unfold with that slow, amused curiosity he always has when Orion goes off script. “I’ve not partaken in that yet,” Noah muses, tapping his fingers against his glass. “I kinda like seeing her when she has my cock in her mouth.”
I. Cannot. Even. With these men.
Elliot finally looks up at Orion, like he’s actually processing him for the first time. “You let her blindfold you?” Elliot asks, tone unreadable.
Orion frowns. “You didn’t?”
Noah sets his fork down, perks up. “Wait. She let you blindfold her?” He turns to me, mildly offended. “I didn’t realize that was on offer.”
I exhale slowly, pinning Noah with a look. “Do I deny you anything?”
He thinks about it. Shakes his head. “Fair point.”
Orion leans forward. “No, seriously, let her blindfold you.” He gestures toward Elliot like this is some sacred wisdom he’s bestowing upon him. “It’ll hit you like a goddamn Mack truck. You’ll see stars.”
Elliot tilts his head slightly. Considers. And then, without missing a fucking beat, says, “I believe I’ll need a demonstration.”
Oh.
Oh.
I might die at this dinner table.
Orion leans back in his chair, stretching, all lazy satisfaction. “I’m game,” he says. “Can we skip right to dessert served on her body?”
Elliot lifts a brow, setting his napkin aside like he’s still debating it. “Clear these dishes first. And what exactly is dessert?”
Noah and Orion don’t hesitate. Immediately gathering plates, moving with the kind of eager efficiency that only comes from knowing exactly what’s coming next.
I swallow hard.
I am already dripping wet. “Ice cream parfaits, sir,” I say sweetly, watching him, watching me.
Elliot doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even smirk. Just stares, hungry. Then, voice dark and commanding, “Bring the ice cream.”
I swear to God, my knees buckle.
Noah laughs under his breath, shaking his head.
Orion mutters something that sounds a lot like “fuck me” before disappearing into the kitchen.
And Elliot? Elliot steps closer.
“Baby doll,” he murmurs, his tone so smooth it makes me shiver. “You are nothing but trouble.”
I lick my lips, heart hammering. “Is trouble one of your kinks?” I ask, deliberately sweet.
His eyes darken. His gaze drags over me, slow and assessing.
“Apparently it is,” he muses. And then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches for the last of the dishes, helping me clear the table.
Once the last dish is gone, the table clean except for the ice cream, Elliot sits back in his chair. Calm. Commanding. Entirely in control. “Undress her.”
Noah and Orion move before he’s even finished speaking.
Orion is all heat and hunger, standing behind me, his hands already at the zipper of my dress. Noah, in front, meets my eyes, grinning as he lifts the hem, brushing his knuckles along my thighs as he pushes it up.
The dress is peeling away, slow, teasing, every touch a deliberate game.
Fingertips, lips, teeth.
They strip me the way you unwrap a gift you’ve been dying to open.
By the time my dress is gone, I’m breathless, standing there in just my pink lace bra, garter belt, thigh highs, and heels.
Orion’s thumbs stroke the backs of my thighs. Noah’s hands slide up my sides, stopping just beneath my breasts.
And Elliot is still watching.
I can feel the weight of his gaze. Can see the way his jaw tightens, his fingers tapping against his knee, controlled but barely.
He wants me.
But he isn’t going to touch me. Not yet.
Not until I obey.
“Get on the table.” The words hit me low and deep, and my legs nearly give out.
Noah and Orion are already lifting me, guiding me, helping me up onto the polished wood.
I settle back, arching just enough to tease.
Orion’s fingers trail up my stomach, stopping just beneath my bra.
Noah leans down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to my hip.
Elliot tilts his head. “Blindfold?” he asks.
Orion grins like a wolf. Disappears for half a second. Comes back holding the pink one.
Mine.
Elliot takes it from him, rolling the silk between his fingers, considering. “Nice,” he murmurs.
Still watching me.
Still making me wait.
“You have one too,” I tell him, breathless. “Yours is blue.”
That gets his attention.
He meets my eyes, brow lifting. “Mine?”
Orion snorts. “Seriously, man, just try it. The red one is mine. Noah has green, when he mans up.”
I smile, slow and sweet, tilting my chin up. “Blindfold me, sir.”
Elliot takes the blindfold, rolling the silk between his fingers before brushing it along my cheek. Then he leans down, his lips warm against my temple.
“It’s time for dessert now,” he murmurs.
His touch is gentle but firm as he slides the fabric over my eyes, knotting it tight. The moment the world goes dark, everything else sharpens.
I can hear everything.
The quiet clink of spoons. The soft scrape of dishes.
A low murmur between them, private, secret.
Then, the first touch.
Ice-cold.
A mouth.
I suck in a sharp breath, body arching, hands flexing where they rest on the polished wood.
More lips. More hands.
Everywhere.
A tongue drags through the valley of my breasts, cold and wet, before a warm breath follows, soothing the sting of ice.
Another mouth presses against my stomach, teasing, nipping.
My thighs are being spread.
Fingertips, firm and guiding, parting me like a prayer.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“Come for us,” Elliot says, his voice like a purr of silk over steel. Close. Right there. “And you’ll get dessert too, baby girl.”
Orion hums, his lips brushing my nipple before his mouth closes over it, sucking deep. “She’s so fucking beautiful,” he says, and I feel those words as he groans against my skin.
“My angel,” Noah whispers, his breath warm against the dip of my hip.
Fingers slip inside me, curling just right, just perfect.
My head falls back. My toes curl.
I can’t see them.
But I feel them.
Taste them in every press of lips, in every scrape of teeth, in every teasing, torturous flick of tongue against too-sensitive skin.
Elliot is right there.
I know it.
I can feel his breath against my clit.
Then.
Oh.
His tongue.
Slow. Precise. Dragging.
I cry out, trembling, melting, completely unraveling.
“Now,” Elliot commands, his voice a dark promise against my skin.
And I obey.
Elliot hums, satisfied, as he strokes a hand down my stomach. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice like silk and sin, then licks me again. Slow. Deep. Like he’s savoring me. “Feed her.”
There’s a finger at my lips.
Cold. Sweet. Melting.
I part my mouth, take it in, suck.
And then?
Something thicker. Something hard, warm, slick with ice cream.
Jesus fucking Christ.
That is better than a waffle cone.
I lick the crown, taste Noah, and that little groan he lets out?
Delicious.
He’s not even a fan of dessert. We are such a bad influence.
Another shift. Another taste. This one’s different.
Orion.
I know my men.
Cold and hot. Hard as hell.
I reach to touch myself, aching, desperate, but there’s a firm hand on my wrist.
A finger pressing inside me, curling deep.
I whimper.
“Eat your dessert,” Elliot warns. Dangerous. Controlled. Completely in charge. He presses a second finger inside, strokes just right. “Don’t play with my food.”
I shudder. I keep licking, keep sucking, taking them both in turn.
“Precious,” Elliot praises. His fingers sink deeper. “Let’s take our treasure to new heights.”
I can barely think. I can barely breathe.
“Bedroom?” Elias asks.
“I got her,” Orion says. His arms lift me, strong and safe, holding me against his chest.
We’re moving.
A door opens.
The spare room.
The we’re-all-fucking-together room.
“You’ll want to see this,” Elliot says.
The blindfold slips free. My eyes adjust, meeting his.
He smirks. Filthy. Knowing. A man who loves to break things.
But he’s too late.
I’m already ruined.
He tosses the blindfold onto the dresser and glances at my men.
“Since it’s your first, Noah, Orion,” he purrs. Measured. Dangerous. So fucking in control. He looks at me. “Beneath, behind, or in that luscious mouth?”
I shudder.
“There’s no fucking wrong answer,” Orion says, voice tight.
I nip his ear, breathless, aching. “It won’t be the last time.”
Noah growls. “Beneath,” he says, ripping off his shirt, shoving down his pants, crawling onto the bed.
Orion sets me down, pats my ass, and grins.
“Go. Fuck Noah,” Elliot orders.
My thighs clench. “Yes, sir.”
Orion groans. “Damn, I might like that too. Sir.”
Elliot chuckles, moving toward my head.
“You’re my beast,” I whisper to Orion as I straddle Noah.
Orion presses behind me.
Thick. Hard. Ready.
I moan, parting my lips and Elliot fills my mouth.
I am full.
Of heat. Of power. Of my fucking men.
Elliot grips my hair, steadying me, controlling my pace, but he doesn’t push, not yet.
Because he’s watching.
Watching Orion press inside me, slow and deep.
Watching Noah beneath me, thick and hot, stretching me open.
Two. Two.
I moan around Elliot’s cock, and he curses. “Holy fuck.”
My nails bite into Noah’s chest as he grips my hips, pushing up into me, matching Orion’s pace.
Too much. Not enough.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
I am being taken apart piece by aching piece.
“You wanted this, baby doll?” Elliot murmurs, voice rough, his control fraying.
I moan, nodding, taking him deeper.
He groans, fingers tightening in my hair.
Noah groans beneath me. “Fuck, she’s so tight like this.”
“She was made for this,” Orion growls.
Elliot’s grip tightens. “She was made for us.”
And that shatters me.
I moan around Elliot’s cock, body clenching, shaking, coming hard enough to see stars.
Orion curses.
Noah groans, thrusting up, chasing his release.
Elliot shudders, his control snapping. His hips jerk, his breath hitches.
And then?
Then I break them all.
Noah grips my thighs, moaning as he comes deep inside me.
Orion drives in hard one last time, growling my name as he loses himself.
Elliot grits his teeth, breathing rough, spilling onto my tongue.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I barely remember falling against Noah.
My limbs are liquid.
My body is humming.
I am soaked in them, filled by them, owned by them.
And I fucking love it.
I sigh, stretching like a satisfied kitten, rolling onto the mattress and immediately, they are on me.
Noah’s hands, soft and gentle, tracing slow, reverent circles over my stomach.
Orion’s lips, pressed to the inside of my knee, kissing his way up my thigh.
Elliot’s fingers, dragging through my hair, tipping my chin up so he can kiss my jaw, my temple, my mouth.
“Jesus,” Elliot murmurs against my lips. “You’re a goddamn menace.”
I grin, pleased as sin. “I try.”
Noah chuckles, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to my collarbone. “You’re glowing,” he murmurs. “You feel okay, Angel?”
I feel perfect.
I hum, letting my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. “I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”
Orion bites my thigh, then soothes it with his tongue. “You are.”
Cocky fucker.
I laugh, too content to argue.
Elliot cups my jaw, tilting my face toward him. His eyes, that deep, knowing gray, scan my face, searching, studying.
He’s still trying to figure me out.
Good luck, sir.
“You know,” he murmurs, thumb stroking my cheek. “You’re not what I expected.”
I smile, slow and lazy. “Neither were you, sir.”
And that makes him groan, his grip tightening just enough to make me shiver.
They all hold me, kiss me, stroke me, worship me, like I’m something fragile when I’m anything but.
It’s perfect.
I love them so much.