Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
STEVIE
They follow me up the stairs and it’s a fucking parade. Enzo right behind me like he might trip and face-plant into my ass, Dario’s footsteps all controlled menace, Saul bringing up the rear, steady, steady, steady. I swear you could light a match off the tension rolling up my spine.
The bedroom’s warm.
We keep it that way on nights like this, temperature up, lights low, the world outside reduced to nothing but darkness and mountain silence.
The bed is absurd. California king, custom-made, big enough for four adults and whatever chaos we create. Dario ordered it three weeks after the house closed. Had it delivered in pieces and assembled in the room because it wouldn’t fit through the door otherwise.
“Overkill,” Saul said when he saw it.
“Practical,” Dario corrected.
“It’s a bed the size of a small country.”
“It fits all of us comfortably. That’s practical.”
He was right. It does fit all of us. And tonight, we’re going to need every inch.
We’ve done this before. Not often, logistics are complicated, schedules don’t always align, sometimes we need the intimacy of pairs rather than the intensity of all four. But enough times that we’ve learned the rhythm.
The choreography.
The way we move around each other.
I turn and they’re there. Three beautiful problems waiting to see which one of them I’ll devour first.
Dario’s gaze is molten, unblinking, staking a claim before he even touches me. Enzo, fidgety, running a hand through his hair, caught somewhere between “handle with care” and “I’m going to fuck this up, aren’t I?” Saul just smiles, dangerous and soft at the same time.
“Well?” I say, voice gone honey-wrecked. “What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”
Dario’s the first to move. He’s standing by the bed, jacket already removed, sleeves rolled up the way I love.
His mouth claims mine, slow and deep, tasting like every good decision I’ve ever made.
His hands slip under my shirt, fingers splayed, mapping the lines of my ribs like he’s committing me to memory by touch alone.
Every inch he uncovers, he lingers, palms warm, knuckles dragging, sending static all the way down my spine.
Enzo’s right behind me, chest pressed to my back, all heat and wild heartbeat. His mouth lands on my neck, hot, just this side of rough, teeth catching my skin. He’s greedy, nosing under my hair, breathing me in.
“Missed you today,” he says, and it feels less like words and more like a confession.
“You saw me all day.”
“Not like this.” His teeth graze my shoulder. “Never enough like this.”
Saul lingers at the edge, arms crossed, pretending to be all cool detachment but his eyes track every breath I take. He waits, lets the tension spool out, like he knows the exact second I’ll break and beg for him.
I reach for him anyway, impatient. “Get over here,” I demand, voice all grit and need.
He smiles. That steady, warm smile that still makes my chest tight after all this time. “Bossy,” he says, but he comes.
And then I’m surrounded.
I’m caught between them. Dario’s mouth on mine, Enzo’s teeth on my neck, Saul’s hands steadying my jaw as he drags me in for a kiss that short-circuits my entire system.
It’s a flood of sensation, every nerve ending singing, their hands mapping every inch of me, staking territory, making me theirs over and over.
“Too many clothes,” Enzo complains. “Why are we all still wearing clothes?”
“Patience,” Dario says.
“I don’t have patience. You know I don’t have patience.”
“Then learn.”
Enzo growls and I feel it vibrate through his chest into my back. His hands find my waistband, start tugging at buttons.
Dario catches his wrist. “Slowly.”
“You’re not the boss of this.”
“I’m the boss of everything.”
“Boys.” Saul’s voice is amused. “Focus.”
“I’m very focused.” Enzo’s hands resume their work, slower this time. “See? Focused.”
My jeans slide down my hips. His hands follow, tracing the skin he reveals.
Dario takes my shirt off. Careful. Like he’s unwrapping something precious.
Saul unhooks my bra with practiced ease.
Suddenly I’m standing there in nothing but nerves and need, three men still in every stitch of clothing, and for a moment I feel it all, raw, naked, wanted.
Dario’s eyes drag over me, hungry and proud. “Look at you.”
Enzo grins, all wolfish hunger. “So fucking beautiful.”
Saul’s knuckles ghost down my arm. “Every inch of you,” he says, low, “belongs right here.”
I cross my arms, cock a hip, glare at all three of them. “Strip. Now. Or I’m putting my pajamas back on and making popcorn.”
They share that look, silent plotting, competitive gleam, and then it’s a scramble.
Dario undoes his cuffs, eyes on me the whole time. He unbuttons his shirt like it’s a performance. One button at a time. Watching me watch him.
“You’re insufferable,” I tell him.
“You love it.”
“I love you. The insufferability is a side effect.”
He laughs. Finishes undressing.
Enzo practically tears his shirt in half, throws it somewhere behind him, jeans following in a rush. All lean muscle and restless energy. He’s never been shy about his body, even with the scars that map his history.
I trace one with my finger. The long one on his ribs. He catches my hand, kisses my palm.
“Later,” he promises. “You can explore later.”
Saul’s slower, peels his T-shirt off, making my mouth water. I’ve seen him hundreds of times. I still catch my breath.
He’s broader than the others. Solid in a way that makes me feel anchored. When he holds me, I feel like nothing could ever hurt me again.
They close in, heat and skin and muscle.
“Bed,” Saul says. “Now.”
I end up in the center.
This is how it usually works. Me at the heart of them, each of them finding their place around me.
Dario moves first. He doesn’t walk, he prowls, when his hand closes around my ankle I feel it in my gut. “Eyes on me,” he says. His thumb traces circles on my skin, lazy, claiming. “You want us, you get all of us. Don’t look away.”
Enzo is beside me in a heartbeat, all restless hands and nervous energy, skimming up my thigh, pausing like he’s waiting for permission he already has.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says, and his head dips, breath hot against me, not gentle at all.
His mouth is greedy, messy, tongue rough where I’m already aching.
I arch up, grinding into his face, fingers knotted in his hair, he moans, eats me like he’s never tasted anything better.
Saul’s beside me, solid and warm, hands on my waist. He kisses my shoulder, teeth dragging over my skin, his voice a hush in my ear. “That’s it, Stevie. Let go. We’ve got you.”
Dario kneels up near my head, stroking my hair, his eyes catching every tremor, every gasp. “Stay with me,” he says, his voice a slow curl of heat. “Let me see you.”
Enzo’s hands slide under my thighs, spreading me wider, his mouth working me over until I’m shaking. “Jesus, you’re soaking, god, you taste so good.” His voice is ragged, hungry.
I reach for Dario, try to anchor myself, but he just leans in, thumb brushing my bottom lip. “Open,” he says, and I do. He slips his finger in, lets me suck, watching my mouth.
Saul nuzzles into the hollow of my shoulder. “You’re gorgeous like this. All of us watching you come apart. You can take it. Let it happen.”
Pressure builds, a wild heat that has me bucking against Enzo’s mouth. My voice is broken, begging, lost. “Please, don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare.”
Enzo groans, tightens his grip, sucks hard and sends me careening over the edge. I come with a cry that’s swallowed by Dario’s kiss, Enzo still lapping me through it. Saul’s hands are on my breasts. Rolling, teasing. His mouth is at my ear, whispering things that make me flush.
I barely get a breath before Dario is pulling me up, flipping me onto my knees, mouth at my ear, his cock thick and hot against my lips. “Now you’re going to take us. All of us. Look at me, don’t hide.”
Enzo crawls under me, his hands sliding up my waist, one calloused palm over my heart. “Ready, babe?”
“Yes.”
He pushes inside, slow at first, just the head, making me feel every ridge, every inch, then sinks all the way, pushing his hips up while I grind down.
The stretch is decadent.
We move together, finding a rhythm.
“More?” Enzo asks.
“Yes. Dario.”
Dario taps his cock against my lips. I lick up the drip of precum, slow and greedy, savoring the taste. He groans, fists tangled in my hair, cock flexing against my tongue like he wants to fuck the filthy thoughts right out of my skull. “Yes?”
“Now.”
He slides into my mouth, thick and heavy, and he groans, head tipping back. “Just like that. God, you look good like this, Stevie. So fucking good.”
I grind down against Enzo.
Enzo thrusts, rough and deep, making me gasp around Dario. Saul shushes me, kisses my spine, fingers slick and slow as he works me open. “You’re perfect. Let me in, honey. Take all of us.”
“Saul, now,” I say.
Saul’s hands are on my hips, guiding me, careful, so fucking gentle as he lines himself up behind me, prepping, stretching, whispering filth and comfort in the same breath.
And then filling me, the stretch blinding, Dario’s hand on my jaw, guiding me, making me look at him.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes.”
Enzo thrusts deeper, and I choke on a moan around Dario’s cock.
Saul is patient but unyielding, hands gripping my hips, mouth dragging hot along my spine. “You’re perfect,” he rasps, “so fucking perfect, Stevie, just let go.”
I want to. I want to give in, let them take everything, but Dario’s hand is tight on my jaw, thumb dragging over my cheek, forcing my gaze up to his.
“Stay here,” he orders, voice low and molten. “Eyes on me. That’s it, that’s my good girl.”
Enzo groans, hips slamming, his fingers digging bruises into my thighs as he fucks me harder, the sound of skin and breath and heat building in the room until it’s everything, until it’s all that exists.