Chapter 44 #2
"I know he's good at this, that's the problem—"
Reid tilts my face toward him and kisses me, deep and slow, and Blake chooses that exact moment to stop teasing. I come apart with Reid's tongue in my mouth and Blake's between my legs and it's too much, it's not enough, it's everything.
I'm still trembling when Blake kisses his way back up my body. His mouth finds mine and I can taste myself on him, and that should probably be weird but it's not. It's intimate. It's ours.
"Okay?" he asks against my lips.
"More than okay." I pull back to look at him. "Your turn. Both of you. I want—"
"What do you want?" Reid's voice is low, patient. Like he'll wait all night for me to find the words.
What do I want?
I want them inside me. I want to feel them, really feel them, both of them. I want to know what it's like to be that close to both of them at once.
"I want you inside me," I say. My cheeks must be beet red, but my voice comes out steadier than I expected. "Both of you. Not—not at the same time, I don't think I'm ready for that, but—"
"We'll figure it out," Blake says, and the roughness in his voice makes me shiver.
"How do you want—" Reid starts.
"Like this." I reach for him, pull him over me. "I want to see your face."
He settles between my thighs, and Blake shifts to my side. I feel the press of Reid against me, the heat of him, and I hold my breath—
He pushes in slowly. So slowly. Watching my face the whole time, checking, making sure. And god, it's good—the stretch, the fullness, the way he fits—but what makes it more is Blake's hand finding mine. Lacing our fingers together. Holding on.
"Okay?" Reid asks.
"Move," I breathe. "Please move."
He does. Long, slow strokes that make me feel every inch of him. And Blake—Blake's mouth is on my neck, my shoulder, the curve of my breast. His free hand traces patterns on my skin, finds my nipple, and I gasp at the dual sensation.
"That's it," Reid murmurs. "God, you feel—"
"Don't stop." I'm not sure which of them I'm talking to. Both, maybe. "Don't—"
Reid's rhythm builds. Steady, relentless, driving me higher. Blake's mouth finds mine and swallows my moans, and I'm caught between them—Reid inside me, Blake all around me—and it's so much, it's too much, it's exactly right.
"Close," I gasp. "I'm—"
"I've got you," Reid says. "We've got you. Let go."
Blake's thumb finds my clit, and that's it—I'm gone. The orgasm tears through me and I cry out against Blake's mouth and Reid fucks me through it, his rhythm stuttering as he follows me over.
For a long moment, we just breathe.
Reid pulls out carefully, dropping gasping onto his back, and then Blake is shifting, moving over me, and I realize—
Oh. We're not done. I'm sticky. And sweaty. And Reid's cum is inside me. And none of it matters.
How does this feel so right? Everything I learned my whole life says this is a sin. That what we are, that being together like this is wrong.
But it doesn't feel wrong. This feels more right than anything in my life ever has.
"You okay for more?" Blake asks, and his voice is strained with the effort of holding back.
I answer by pulling him down and kissing him.
Then he's settling between my thighs, and Reid is moving to my side now, mirroring where Blake was before.
Blake pushes in and the sound he makes—low, broken, desperate—does something to my chest. He drops his forehead to mine, breathing hard.
"Give me a second," he manages. "You feel—I need a second or this is going to be embarrassing."
I laugh, and the movement makes him groan. "Take your time."
"Not helping."
Reid's hand traces down my arm, finds my hip. "She's impatient," he tells Blake. "You might have noticed."
"I noticed," Blake grits out.
"Just a character flaw we have to live with."
"I'm right here," I point out.
"We know." Reid leans in to kiss my shoulder. "We like having you here."
Blake starts to move, and the conversation dies.
Where Reid was steady and relentless, Blake is intense and deep. He watches my face like he's cataloging every reaction, adjusting his angle when I gasp, slowing down when I get too close. Drawing it out.
"Blake—"
"I know." He kisses me, soft and sweet, completely at odds with the way his hips are moving. "I know. I just want—I want this to last."
Reid's hand slides between us, finds where Blake and I are joined, and—
"Fuck," Blake says as I gasp.
Reid grins. "Couldn't resist. Besides, this is accidental dick touching, so it doesn’t count."
His fingers find my clit again, circling in time with Blake's thrusts, and I'm climbing again, impossibly, and Blake is right there with me—I can feel it in the way his rhythm goes ragged, the way his breathing fractures.
"Together," I gasp. "Please, I want—together—"
Blake's mouth finds mine and Reid's fingers press harder and we fall apart at the same time, Blake shuddering inside me while I clench around him and Reid watches us with dark, satisfied eyes.
We collapse into a tangle of limbs. Sweaty and spent and breathing hard.
Holy shit.
"So," Reid says after a long moment. "That happened."
I laugh. I can't help it. "That happened."
Blake hasn't moved from where he's half-collapsed on top of me, his face buried in my neck. I run my fingers through his hair, feel him shiver. This intimacy, holding this powerful man, feeling him fully soften into me.
"You okay?" I ask softly.
"Yeah." His voice is muffled. "Just—give me a minute. I think you broke me."
"Pretty sure it was a team effort."
Reid snorts. "She's not wrong."
Blake finally lifts his head, and the look on his face—soft, open, wondering—makes my heart clench. He looks younger. Lighter. Like something that was wound too tight has finally released.
He pulls out carefully and I force myself to climb over him and go to the bathroom to clean up, and then we're rearranging ourselves into something more comfortable.
The bed that felt ridiculous earlier now feels perfectly sized.
Just enough room for three people to tangle together without anyone falling off the edge.
I end up in the middle again—of course—with Blake on one side and Reid on the other. Their hands find each other across my stomach, fingers interlacing.
Oh.
I look down at their joined hands. Blake's rough and scarred, Reid's broader and smoother. Holding on to each other. Over me, but also—not just because of me.
"This is what I wanted," I say quietly. "Not just—the sex was great, obviously—"
"Obviously," Reid echoes, grinning.
"—but this. Us. All three of us, connected. I didn't know it could feel like this."
"Like what?" Blake asks.
I think about it. Try to find the right words.
"Like I'm not waiting for it to end," I say finally. "Like I'm not bracing for the part where it falls apart. Like I could actually—"
I stop. Swallow.
"Like you could actually stay," Blake finishes quietly.
"Yeah." My eyes are stinging. Oh, for fuck's sake. "Yeah. Like that."
"You can stay," Reid says. His hand squeezes mine. "We want you to stay."
"I know." A tear escapes, slides down my temple into my hair. "I know. I'm staying. I just—I didn't know it would feel like this."
"Like what?" Blake asks again.
"Like home."
The word hangs there in the darkness. Simple and enormous and true.
Blake makes a sound—not quite a word, more like something cracking open—and pulls me closer. Reid's arm tightens around my waist.
"We should clean up," Reid mumbles eventually.
"Later."
"We're disgusting."
"Later."
He's quiet for a moment. "Are we gonna talk about the fact that I touched your dick?"
"No. We're not," Blake mutters, shoulders shaking.
"Got it. It's like a 'what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom kind of thing'.
"Pretty much. You try and touch my dick when Laine's not around, I'm gonna fuck you up."
Reid's quiet for a minute. "Ditto. I don't think I'd enjoy you touching mine much if Laine weren't around. Your callouses are fucking huge."
Now my shoulders are shaking. "Reid." I elbow him weakly. "Later. Sleep now."
Nobody moves.
The moonlight shifts across the ceiling. I listen to them breathe—Reid's slow and steady, Blake's still a little uneven. My own heartbeat settling into something calm.
I almost ran from this, I think. I almost left.
The thought feels distant now. Like a memory of someone else's fear.
"Hey," I say softly. "Thank you."
"For what?" Reid asks.
"For waiting. For not giving up on me while I figured my stuff out."
Blake's arm tightens. "Never."
"Never, ever," Reid echoes.
I close my eyes. Let myself believe them.
When I wake up again, it's morning. Actual morning—sun streaming in, birds being obnoxious outside, Reid hogging every single blanket like a hibernating bear.
Some things never change.
I lie there, watching them sleep. Blake's face is soft without the tension he carries during the day. Reid is a sprawled disaster, mouth open, probably about to start snoring.
Mine, I think. These idiots are mine.
I should get up. Shower. Start coffee. Be a functional adult.
Instead, I burrow deeper between them and close my eyes.
Functional adulting can wait.