24. Dakota #2
Then, carefully, they withdraw. Dante first, then Eli easing me up. The sudden emptiness pulls a sound of protest from my throat. I feel their cum already starting to leak from me, warm and obscene.
“Shh.” Cruz’s hands are on me before the loss can register. “You’re not staying empty, sweetheart. Not for another second.”
He settles onto his back next to where Eli was and pulls me onto him, and Brady moves in behind me, and they fill me again.
Cruz is thicker than Eli, stretching me open again, the only lube needed being the mess Daddy left inside.
Brady presses into my ass through Dante’s cum, the slide is easy and filthy and exactly right.
It rips a sound from me I’ve never made before without warning—half pleasure-half hunger and filthy as sin itself.
“Fuck, she’s soaked with them.” Brady groans. “I can feel it. Feel him in you.”
They’re rougher, the two of them. Younger, hungrier, less patient. Cruz snapping his hips up while Brady drives down, and I stop being a person with thoughts and become a body being used, loved, kept.
“Greedy little cumdump.” Cruz’s grin is audible even through the wreckage of his voice. “Taking load after load. Two men’s cum in you and begging for more.”
“Beg for it.” Brady’s hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back. “Tell us what you want, angel. Say it.”
My voice comes out shredded. “Fill me. Please. Breed me. Give me everything, I want all of you inside me, I want everything.”
They come almost together, Brady with a broken shout, Cruz with a curse that dissolves into my name, and I feel it. Their cum joining the rest, four men’s seed mixed inside my body, two loads in each hole, and I come again just from the thought of it, shaking apart between them.
They ease out slowly. I collapse onto the ruined sheets, thighs slick, both holes leaking, breathing like I’ve gone five rounds.
I have never felt so thoroughly claimed.
“Dakota.” Eli’s hand smooths my hair back from my sweat-damp face. “Color, princess.”
“Green.” I find his eyes. Make myself say the last part. “You’re not done. You promised.”
The pause that follows is the longest of the night. I watch it move through them—the final line, the one that makes it real. Tasting each other. Through me.
Eli moves first.
“Watch.” His dominant voice fills the room, quiet and absolute. “All of you. This is how we take care of what’s ours.”
He settles between my thighs, spreads me open with sure hands, and puts his mouth on my pussy.
His tongue works into me, deliberate and thorough, licking his own cum and Cruz’s out of me in long, claiming strokes.
The sight of it. Of Daddy’s face buried in me, cleaning me, not flinching is the most obscene, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
When he lifts his head, his mouth and stubble glisten.
“She tastes incredible.” His eyes move around the circle. “All of us, mixed with her.”
Cruz takes his place with zero hesitation—enthusiastic, noisy, humming against me like I’m dessert, sucking and licking until my hips are grinding against his face.
Then Dante shifts lower, parts me, and puts his mouth on my ass. His tongue presses into me, cleaning out his own release and Brady’s, and the intimacy of it drags a sob out of my chest that somehow isn’t sadness at all.
Brady goes last, trading places with Cruz for one more pass over my pussy before moving down to help Dante, and for a suspended, impossible moment I have two of my men’s mouths on me at once, cleaning every drop from my body, and I shatter one final time.
When they finish, I’m clean and wrung out and made of light.
They close around me like a fist. Gentle now. Cruz pulls me against his chest while Dante drapes a blanket over my legs. Brady presses a water bottle into my hands and watches me drink every sip. Eli wipes my face with a warm cloth, and his eyes never leave mine.
“Talk to us, princess. Was that what you wanted? Was it too much?”
“It was perfect.” My voice is destroyed, and I don’t care. “Exactly what I needed. I feel…” I search for it. “Used and yet cherished at the same time. I didn’t know that feeling both was possible.”
“It’s the only way we’ll ever do it.” Cruz kisses my temple.
They stay through the comedown, all four of them, hands moving over me in long passes, voices low. The shakes hit twenty minutes later, the adrenaline draining out of my body all at once, and Brady wraps himself around my back, and Dante holds my hands, and no one asks me to explain.
Eventually we make it to the shower again, all five of us crowded under water that runs lukewarm before we’re done, washing each other with a gentleness that would be funny if it weren’t so sacred.
Eli shampoos my hair. Cruz nearly falls scrubbing Brady’s back and takes Dante down instead, and I laugh until my ribs hurt.
Later there’s food. Eggs and toast at nine at night because it’s the only thing Eli has left in the kitchen. Comfortable clothes. The couch again, all of us piled together, some cooking show playing that nobody watches.
Sunday is almost gone. Tomorrow there’s the gym, and the rules, and the careful distance we perform for the world.
But right now, I’m curled between four men who filled me, cleaned me, and held me through the aftermath without flinching for a single second of it. Cruz’s heartbeat under my ear. Dante’s fingers laced with mine. Brady’s leg hooked over both of ours. Eli’s hand resting on my ankle like a promise.
I spent twenty-eight years fighting alone.
I’m done with that now.
This is a love that doesn’t look away from the filthy or the fragile or the parts of me I thought no one could hold.
The five of us, tangled together, exactly as we’re meant to be.