36. Dakota
DAKOTA
The drive back from Bellucci’s takes forty minutes. It feels like four hours.
Dante’s hand rests on my thigh the whole way, and Cruz keeps catching my eyes in the rearview mirror, and by the time we pull into the lot behind Dante’s building, my skin hums like a struck bell.
Eli and Brady park behind us. Nobody speaks in the elevator.
Brady’s jaw works. Eli stands with his hands folded in front of him, that coiled stillness he gets when he’s holding himself together by threads.
The door barely closes before Cruz has me against it.
“That dress.” His mouth finds my neck. “Been thinking about peeling you out of it since you walked in.”
“Then peel away.”
He drags the zipper down my spine slowly, knuckles trailing the bare skin underneath, and I hear Brady exhale behind him like the sound of it costs him.
I turn in Cruz’s arms so I can see all four of them. My men. The dinner still glows in my chest—the promises, the streetlight kisses, the word permanence sitting in me like a swallowed star. It made me brave. It made me greedy.
“I want to try three tonight.”
Cruz stills. “Three what, sweetheart?”
“Three inside me at once. Two in my pussy. One in my ass.” The dress slides off my shoulders and pools at my feet. “And one in my mouth, so nobody gets left out.”
The silence lasts exactly as long as it takes Brady to make a sound like he’s been punched. “Jesus, angel.”
Eli crosses the room in four strides, taking my chin in his hand, green eyes searching mine. “That’s not a small thing. Two together is a lot of stretch. You’ve never—”
“I know I’ve never.” I hold his gaze. “I want it, Daddy. I want to be so full of all of you I can’t remember what empty feels like.”
His pupils dilate and he drags his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Then we prep you right.” His voice drops. “Slow. Thorough. You safeword the second anything is wrong, not after. Colors?”
“Green means go, yellow means slow, red means stop everything.”
“Good girl.” He kisses me hard. “Bedroom.”
They undress me the rest of the way like unwrapping a gift they’ve been waiting on all year—Cruz unhooking my bra, Dante rolling my underwear down my legs, Brady’s mouth following the fabric down.
I end up in the middle of Dante’s big bed with four men shedding clothes around me, and I’ve seen them naked dozens of times now, but the sight still empties my lungs.
Eli takes charge the way he always does. “Cruz, you’re taking her ass—she’s taken you there before, and nobody supports her weight like you can. You’re the base.”
“Honored, boss.”
“Brady and me in front.” Eli’s eyes flick to Brady. “Are you okay with that? It’s close quarters.”
Brady’s flush climbs his neck, but his voice comes out steady. “After everything we’ve done? I’ll survive touching your dick, Coach.”
Cruz’s laugh booms off the ceiling.
Then Eli looks down at me spread out on the sheets, and the humor drains out of the room like water through a grate.
“Open your legs for Daddy, princess.”
I do, and the prep begins.
They take turns and they take their time.
Dante’s mouth first, licking into me lazy and deep while Cruz warms lube between his palms and works one thick finger into my ass, then two, murmuring praise.
Eli holds my face and makes me look at him while it happens, feeding me slow filthy words—that’s it, breathe, let them in—and Brady kneels at my other side kissing my breasts, my throat, the inside of my wrist where my pulse hammers.
I come the first time on Dante’s tongue with Cruz’s fingers buried in me, and they don’t even pause. They just keep going, patient as the tide.
“More,” Eli tells them. “She needs more before she’s ready.”
Dante slides two fingers into my pussy alongside his tongue. Then three. Then Eli adds one of his own beside Dante’s, and the stretch drags a sound out of me somewhere between bliss and utter destruction.
“Color,” Eli demands.
“Green. Green. Please, Daddy, I can take it—”
“I know you can. That’s not the question. The question is whether you take it comfortably, and we’re not moving until the answer is yes.”
It takes what feels like an hour. Fingers and lube and mouths and murmured check-ins, my body opening by degrees while four men work me like I’m the only thing that has ever mattered. I come a second time around their combined fingers, shaking, and Eli finally nods.
“How do you want to be positioned, sweetheart?” Cruz asks.
“You on your back. Me riding you, so you’ve got my ass. Then—” My brain fuzzes with want. “Eli and Brady in front. Dante, my mouth.”
“And we switch partway.” Dante’s grin flashes white. “Everybody gets the full tour. Fair’s fair.”
Cruz stretches out on the bed, hard and gleaming, and I climb over him backwards, facing away. His hands settle on my hips like they were carved for the job.
“Nice and easy, sweetheart.”
He guides me down onto him and the burn of it steals my breath even after all that prep—he’s big everywhere and my ass takes him inch by patient inch until I’m seated flush against his lap, gasping.
“Talk to me,” he rumbles against my spine.
“So good. God. So good.”
He leans back, taking me with him, my back against his chest, and hooks his arms under my knees to spread me open. Displayed. Offered.
Eli kneels between our sprawled legs and I watch his control fray as he looks at what’s waiting for him.
“Daddy first,” I whisper.
He notches himself against me and pushes in slowly, and even with Cruz already filling me from behind it’s easy, it’s home, my body sighing around him like it knows his shape by heart. He drops his forehead to mine.
“Brady.” His voice scrapes. “Come here.”
This is the part where it could all fall apart, and I feel Brady’s nerves like static as he kneels behind Eli. Feel him hesitate.
I reach for him. “I want you. Both of you. Together.”
Eli shifts higher crouching over me, his cock still buried deep inside me. Brady lines up beneath him, and he presses in, slow, so slow, and…
Oh.
Oh.
The stretch is enormous. It’s too much and exactly enough all at once, my body screaming and singing in the same breath, and I hear myself sobbing out sounds that aren’t words while three men hold perfectly still inside me and wait.
“Color.” Eli’s whole body trembles. “Dakota. Color.”
“Green.” Tears leak from the corners of my eyes—not pain, just too much sensation with nowhere to go. “Green, green, don’t you dare stop, Daddy, don’t you dare—”
“Christ,” Brady breathes. “I can feel you. Both of you. I can feel everything.”
Dante kneels on the mattress at my head, brushing my sweat-damp hair back with a tenderness that undoes me almost as much as the fullness does.
“You’ve got one more spot open, baby. Think you can handle it?”
I answer by opening my mouth.
He slides across my tongue and the circuit completes—four men, every part of me claimed, and the first careful roll of their hips together detonates through my body like nothing I have ever felt in all my years.
They find a rhythm. Cruz grinding up slowly from beneath, Eli and Brady alternating shallow thrusts so I’m never empty, never given a second to think, Dante rocking gently into my mouth with his hand cradling my jaw.
Every nerve ending fires at once. I can’t tell where one of them ends and another begins. I can’t tell where I end.
“Look at her,” Cruz groans into my ear. “Taking all of us. Our girl. Our greedy, perfect girl.”
“So tight,” Brady pants. “She’s so—every time Coach moves I feel it, I’m not gonna last—”
“Then don’t.” Eli’s voice has gone to gravel. “She wants to be filled. So fill her.”
I come apart. There’s no buildup, no warning—one second I’m riding the edge and the next I’m clenching around all of them, screaming around Dante, my whole body one long electrical storm. Brady curses and follows me over, spilling deep, hips stuttering.
They give me thirty seconds to breathe. Dante pulls from my mouth so I can gulp air.
“Still green?” he asks, thumbing tears off my cheek.
“Greenest I’ve ever been.”
“Good. Because it’s my turn down there,” Dante replies.
He and Brady trade places—Brady pulling out with a groan that sounds like loss, Dante notching in beside Eli’s hard length.
Brady’s cock replaces Dante’s at my lips instead, still hard despite climaxing moments ago.
The logistics should be awkward. They’re not.
They move around my body naturally, like I’m an instrument they all learned to play together.
When Dante seats himself fully alongside Eli, slick with what Brady left behind, he moans like a dying man.
“Baby,” Dante groans. “Baby. You feel—there aren’t words.”
“Try filthy ones,” Cruz suggests from beneath me, and thrusts up hard enough to make everyone gasp.
I suck Brady down and taste myself on him and hum, and his hand fists in my hair.
“That’s it, angel. Just like that.”
The second build is faster, meaner. Dante’s thicker than Brady and he moves with purpose, angling until he finds the spot that makes me wail, and Cruz matches him from below until they’re driving me between them like a wave between two shores.
I come again around Dante and Eli with Brady heavy on my tongue, and then again barely a minute later when Cruz loses his rhythm and starts chasing his own finish, and by the third one I’m not even sure they’re separate anymore—just one continuous shattering that goes on and on.
Cruz breaks first, roaring, grinding me down onto him as he empties himself deep in my ass. The pulse of him sets Dante off—he buries himself to the root and floods me with a broken sound. Eli lasts four more seconds. He comes buried so fucking deep.
“Take it all, princess. Good girl. Fuck, that’s it.” I shake through one final orgasm that’s more soul than body.
Then, stillness. Four heartbeats hammering against my skin. Cum leaking from everywhere they’ve been.
They ease out of me one at a time, gentle as they go, murmuring praise into whatever part of me their mouths can reach. Eli cleans me himself, checking me over with careful fingers while Dante feeds me sips of water and Cruz tucks me against his chest.
“Damage report,” Eli says softly.
“Zero damage.” My voice comes out wrecked and blissful. “Total structural collapse, but zero damage.”
Cruz’s laugh vibrates along my whole spine.
“You were incredible,” Brady whispers, kissing my temple. “Watching you take us like that—angel, I’ll never be normal again.”
“None of us were normal to start with.” Dante stretches out along my other side.
Eli climbs in last, and even in this pile of tangled limbs he finds my face, cradles it, presses his forehead to mine.
“You okay in there? Really?”
I think about the girl on the Greyhound with a duffel bag that contained everything I owned. Then I think about tonight. About choosing this.
“Daddy,” I whisper, “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”
He kisses me, and around us three men settle closer. I fall asleep held in the center of everything I thought I would never have, before I even knew what it was.