35. Full Party Encounter #2
And I missed the storm.
I climb onto the couch next to Dex.
Micah settles behind him.
Griffin sits beside me, one thigh pressed along mine.
Ronan eventually takes the wide armrest, his hand resting lightly against Micah’s thigh.
For a while, there isn't really a center.
Nobody organizes us.
Dex kisses me.
I lean over and kiss Micah.
Griffin's palm travels slowly across my stomach, spreading warmth everywhere it touches.
Ronan leans down and kisses Dex.
Dex laughs into his mouth.
The sound dies almost instantly when Ronan kisses him again.
Harder.
I stop moving.
Holy shit.
I've watched Ronan take Dex apart in smaller ways.
I know what exists between them.
It still does something strange and hot to me to see Dex—our loudest, most impossible, most relentlessly moving person—go quiet beneath Ronan's attention.
Griffin sees it too.
His fingers tighten almost imperceptibly against my hip.
I turn my head enough to look at him.
His eyes are fixed on Ronan and Dex.
His breathing is heavier.
“You okay?”
His gaze moves to me. “Yeah.”
No qualifying explanation.
No joke.
He's turned on.
And something about knowing that makes warmth spread through my chest underneath everything happening between my thighs.
I kiss him.
His mouth is hungry immediately.
Familiar in a way that makes my body soften even while the rest of the room keeps my pulse racing.
Micah's hand lands on my shoulder from behind.
Dex's fingertips brush my thigh.
Ronan moves.
Somebody's knee catches mine.
There are too many bodies and not enough couch, and for one strange, dizzying second I can't identify whose hand is where.
Normally that should feel overwhelming.
Instead, I close my eyes.
Let sensation sort itself without needing names.
Griffin's mouth.
Micah's fingers.
Dex's warmth.
Ronan's palm.
Different.
Distinct.
Known.
I know these men.
That's what makes it work.
I don't need to see every hand to know whether I want it.
Dex moves lower along the couch.
His mouth brushes my stomach as his hands start to spread my thighs, then he stops.
He looks up at me. “Ma'am?”
I start laughing before he even continues. “What?”
“Permission?”
Micah groans.
Griffin laughs into my shoulder.
Ronan closes his eyes like he's regretting every choice that led us here.
“You are impossible,” I tell Dex.
His grin becomes almost angelic. “Yes, ma'am.”
I slide my fingers into his hair.
The grin changes.
My body responds to the shift before I consciously decide what I want to do with it. “Go.”
His eyes darken.
Then he does.
Fuck.
The first touch steals my breath.
My head falls back against Griffin's shoulder, and his arm immediately wraps tighter around my waist.
Micah's fingers lace through mine.
Ronan holds my ankle as he looks down at Dex for a moment.
Then his eyes are back on me.
Always the face.
Always checking the person instead of getting lost in what the body is doing.
“Green,” I manage before he asks.
His thumb moves once over my ankle.
A quiet acknowledgment.
Dex is enthusiastic about everything.
Music.
Sex.
Breakfast.
Arguing.
Being praised.
Being threatened.
Apparently going down on me in the middle of our living room while three other men watch and touch me is no exception.
Pleasure begins low and concentrated, then spreads with every additional point of contact.
Griffin's mouth moves over my neck.
Micah's thumb strokes slowly over my knuckles.
Ronan's hand travels from my ankle to my shin, grounding more than teasing.
And Dex—
Fuck.
My hips twitch.
Griffin holds me steady without restraining me.
Just something solid to move against.
Micah leans closer.
His mouth brushes my ear. “You look fucking gorgeous like this.”
The words hit almost as hard as Dex's mouth.
Heat shoots through me.
My thighs tighten.
Dex makes a pleased sound against me because apparently my body tattles.
Micah notices too. “That's it.” His voice goes lower. “Don't hold it back.”
My fingers clamp around his.
Something sharp and electric rolls through my abdomen.
Up my spine.
Across my skin.
Too many sensations stacking until they stop feeling separate.
Griffin's breath against my throat.
Dex between my legs.
Micah's praise sinking straight into whatever part of me answers him before I can think.
Ronan's steady hand.
Every one of them paying attention.
Not just touching me—knowing me.
My body pulls tight. “Fuck.”
Dex doesn't let up.
Micah's hand squeezes mine again.
Griffin's arm tightens.
And the orgasm crashes through me hard enough that my vision actually flashes white.
For one ridiculous second I laugh in the middle of it.
I can't help it.
Because this is absurd.
I am coming on our couch with a throw blanket bunched under one knee, probably crushing a decorative pillow Griffin's mother bought us, while four men who should absolutely not work together this well somehow do.
The laughter turns into a broken moan when another wave hits.
Griffin groans as I sag backward.
His mouth presses to my temple.
Micah strokes his thumb over my hand.
Ronan waits until my breathing starts to come back before asking softly, “Color?”
“Very fucking green.”
Dex resurfaces from my pussy looking like a cat that got into an unattended bowl of cream.
Hair destroyed.
Mouth wet.
Entirely too pleased with himself. “Was that good?”
I lift one leg and nudge his shoulder. “Shut up.”
His grin widens, and he opens his mouth to say something else.
Micah reaches down and catches him at the back of the neck. “You heard her.”
The change in Dex is immediate.
His eyes lift to Micah's.
His body stills.
Micah's thumb brushes slowly along his jaw. “Come here.”
Dex obeys.
No jokes.
No exaggerated yes, Sir.
He simply climbs higher on the couch and lets Micah pull him into a kiss.
I stop breathing normally again.
There is something deeply intimate about watching Dex surrender the urge to fill every second.
Micah kisses him slowly enough that Dex has nowhere to rush.
One hand stays at his neck.
The other settles against his ribs.
Dex melts into him.
Then Ronan's hand lands on Dex's shoulder.
Dex turns his head toward him too.
Hungry.
Open.
Ready for whatever comes from either man.
And suddenly I am not the center of anything.
Thank God.
Because watching them might be even hotter.
Beside me, Griffin breathes, “Fuck.”
I smile without taking my eyes off the other men. “You okay?”
His arm tightens around my waist. “Very.”
Something in me goes soft at the answer.
I’m past thinking he will suddenly regress into the version of himself who once believed sharing meant losing.
But hearing uncomplicated desire in his voice still feels like proof of how far all of us have come.
I turn enough to kiss him.
Behind us, Dex makes a sound into Micah's mouth.
Ronan laughs quietly.
The room keeps moving around us.
No plan.
Just five people who have spent months learning where the edges are.
Apparently, once you know the edges well enough, you can stop staring at them.
You can just play within the lines.