Chapter 38 #2
Saul’s pace is slower, careful, stretching me around both of them, but his words are filth, dirty praise, promises, all for me. “Look at you. You can take it. I know you can. Take us. Come for us.”
I’m shaking, held up by three pairs of hands, overwhelmed, high on it.
Dario slides his cock out of my mouth, lets me breathe, leans in until his forehead touches mine. “You feel them?” he says, hand on my throat just enough to remind me who’s in charge. “You feel how full you are.”
Enzo’s breath is ragged against my ear. “God, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight. I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”
“Hold it,” Dario says, and the command in his voice makes everything inside me clench.
Saul’s fingers slip between my thighs, find my clit, gentle and relentless, working me right to the edge.
The world narrows, Enzo slamming into me, Saul buried deep, Dario’s hand wrapped around my neck, keeping me present.
“I’m,” I try to say, but it comes out as a sob, desperate, shattered.
“Don’t hold back,” Saul says. “Let us see it.”
Enzo’s voice is all wrecked hunger. “Come for us. I want to feel it.”
Dario leans in, voice pitched low, just for me. “You’re ours. All of you. Give it to us. Now.”
The orgasm rips through me so hard I see white, my body clenches around them, pulse after pulse.
Enzo curses, thrusts once, twice, and spills inside me, hips stuttering.
Saul groans behind me, fingers bruising, cock thick and deep as he follows, breath broken against my shoulder.
Dario holds my gaze through all of it, one hand tangled in my hair, the other cradling my jaw, eyes dark and soft and so fucking proud.
His cock fills my mouth, thick and heavy, and I suck him deep, tongue swirling, desperate to taste him, to give him everything. Dario’s control frays, hips snapping, breath breaking.
“God, look at you. So fucking good, that’s.” His words stutter into a groan, his grip tightening in my hair.
I hollow my cheeks, take him deeper, let him see every filthy inch of need on my face.
He comes with a curse, hips thrusting, spilling down my throat, and I swallow every drop, greedy, triumphant.
When he’s done, he pulls me up, kisses me hard, palms framing my face. “Mine,” he whispers, fierce and gentle all at once.
I grin up at him, totally ruined, totally fucking satisfied. “Always.”
The room is a disaster zone, sweaty, sticky, reeking of sex and satisfaction.
My body’s a wreck, but in the best fucking way.
I’m basically a human puddle, squished under three men, absolutely no will to move.
Enzo melts beside me, nuzzling my neck, leaving wet kisses like a trail of breadcrumbs.
Saul’s still at my back, one big palm splayed over my hip, keeping me from floating off into the afterlife.
Dario’s mouth finds mine, his voice low and hoarse, words sinking straight into my bones. “Bravissima, tesoro. You take us so well.”
I grin, too lazy to lift my head. “Not to brag, but I’m an overachiever.”
His laugh is low, wicked. “We noticed.”
We lie tangled in the ridiculous bed. Limbs everywhere. Breathing slowly returning to normal. The kind of satisfied exhaustion that only comes from being thoroughly, completely loved.
Enzo’s head is on my stomach. Dario is pressed against my side. Saul is behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist.
“I can’t move,” I announce.
“Don’t even try,” Enzo says. “I’m making you my mattress now.”
“I have to pee eventually.”
“No you don’t. New rule. No peeing.”
“That’s not how biology works.”
“Biology is cancelled. I’ve filed paperwork.”
I swat at him, miss, end up just flopping my arm across his face. “You’re an idiot.”
Dario laughs softly. “I’ll get water.”
“You don’t have to.”
He’s already up, moving to the bathroom. He returns with a glass, holds it to my lips while I drink.
Aftercare. Dario-style.
Saul’s fingers drift across my skin, lazy as sin. “You alive?”
“Depends. Did I survive, or is this the part where I get haunted by orgasm ghosts?”
He laughs, mouth against my shoulder. “You’re so weird.”
“Thank you for noticing.”
His arm tightens. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”
Enzo shifts, looks up at me. “A year,” he says.
“What?”
“A year since I got here. Since I became Nate Carter.”
“Yeah.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Best year of my life.”
“Mine too.” He pauses. “I didn’t think I could have this. Any of this. I thought I was too broken.”
Dario settles back into bed. His hand finds Enzo’s shoulder.
“We’re all a little broken,” Dario says, Italian accent thicker when he’s tired. “That’s why we fit.”
Enzo groans. “Is this therapy or an orgy? I need labels.”
Saul snorts. “Let the man be poetic. He earned it.”
I snuggle into the tangle, grinning. “You’re all absolute menaces and I wouldn’t trade any of you. Even when you get weird and emotional after sex. I love you.”
There’s a tangle of voices: “Love you.” “Me more.” “Shut up, Enzo.”
We’re a mess. A miracle. A collection of sharp edges that somehow make something soft, and whole, and worth every scar.
I press my face into Enzo’s hair, Saul’s arm heavy over my ribs, Dario’s mouth finding my temple. “You’re my disaster family. You know that, right?”
Enzo snickers. Saul hums. Dario just holds me tighter.
The wind rattles the windows. The house creaks around us. I know, bone-deep, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Not running. Not hiding. Not fading out.
Right here. Hungry and loved and seen.
When I finally drift off, it’s not to dreams of escape.
It’s dreams of Sunday mornings and too much coffee, of flour-dusted kitchens and too many hands and never enough time.
And when I wake up, they’re still there.
Real. Solid. Mine.
I believe that forever actually means something. And it’s ours.