Chapter 71
seventy-one
Liana
The house feels different from the inside.
Quieter.
Not empty, but waiting.
Every step we take echoes just slightly against polished floors and high ceilings, the kind of space that hasn’t quite settled into being lived in yet.
It doesn’t feel cold, though. Not with them around me.
Not with Elijah’s hand resting at my lower back, guiding me forward like he’s already decided this is where we belong.
“This way,” he murmurs.
We move through room after room, each one more expansive than the last. A formal dining space that looks like it belongs in a magazine. A lounge that opens out to the gardens we just stood in. Windows everywhere, letting in soft evening light that turns everything golden.
“It’s too much,” I breathe, half laughing under it.
“It’s not,” Elijah replies quietly. “It’s enough.”
I glance at him.
He means it.
Of course he does.
Zach trails his fingers along the back of my arm as we walk, a quiet, grounding touch, while Jackson whistles softly behind us.
“Yeah, I could get used to this,” he mutters.
Elijah doesn’t respond.
He just keeps moving.
Until we reach the staircase and something in the way he pauses tells me this is where he’s been leading us.
My stomach flips slightly.
“Upstairs?” I ask.
His hand tightens just a fraction.
“Upstairs.”
The bedroom steals the air from my lungs. It’s not just big. It’s… expansive.
The space opens up into a full sitting area first, floor-to-ceiling windows stretching across the back wall, overlooking the entire property. The last of the daylight spills in, soft and warm, catching on everything, the furniture, the textures, the quiet luxury of it all.
And then there’s the bed. It’s enormous. Not just a king, bigger. Custom. Built to hold more.
“That bed is huge,” I say, a little breathless.
Behind me, I hear Jackson laugh softly.
Elijah steps in closer.
“Well,” he says evenly, “if all four of us are sharing it… we needed something that could handle that.”
Heat flickers low in my stomach.
I turn slightly, taking it all in again, slower this time.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s yours,” he corrects quietly.
The word hangs there for a moment, and no one moves.
The air shifts.
Subtle.
Heavy.
I feel it before I see it, the way Elijah’s attention flicks briefly toward Zach and Jackson, something silent passing between them, something already decided.
And then his gaze comes back to me.
Steady.
Certain.
“I think,” he says slowly, “we should christen the house.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth.
“Of course you do.”
His hand lifts, brushing lightly along my jaw, his thumb catching at my lower lip.
“And,” he adds, his voice dropping just slightly, “consummate what we just made official.”
My breath catches. The humor lingers for half a second until I realize he’s serious. Until I feel the way the room has changed. The way they’re all looking at me now.
My pulse stutters.
Elijah steps in first.
His hand cups my face fully this time, grounding, claiming, steady as he leans down and kisses me, full of everything he doesn’t say out loud.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I love you so much, angel.”
My chest tightens.
“I’m so glad you’re my wife,” he continues softly. “That we get to do this… together.”
I lean into him, my hands sliding up into his hair.
“I love you,” I whisper back.
He presses one more kiss to my lips before easing back.
Zach steps in next.
His hand finds mine, fingers threading gently before his thumb brushes over the ring he placed there earlier.
His gaze lifts to mine.
Soft.
Steady.
“You’re my everything,” he says quietly.
The words don’t demand anything.
They don’t need to.
“I’ll never let you forget that,” he adds, his thumb still tracing that slow, grounding path over my skin.
Emotion swells in my chest again, warm and deep.
“I know,” I whisper.
He leans in, kissing me slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing me all over again.
And then Jackson.
He doesn’t rush it.
But there’s a spark in his eyes that never quite fades. His hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer, his grin softer than usual but still there.
“I finally get to wear a ring,” he says, lifting his hand slightly. “About time, honestly.”
A laugh escapes me.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth against mine. “But I’m yours.”
His kiss deepens just enough to make my breath hitch, playful turning into something heavier, something that lingers just under the surface.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests briefly against mine.
“I love you,” he says quietly.
“I love you too.”
He exhales softly, then glances between the others before his mouth curves again, that familiar edge slipping back in.
“Well,” he says lightly, “now that we’ve all confessed our undying devotion...”
I already know what’s coming.
“Jackson...”
“I think it’s time we properly christen this bed.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. But the sound fades quickly as the space between us shifts again.
Their hands find me again, one at my waist, one at my neck, one brushing down my arm, and I let myself fall into it, into them, into everything this moment represents.
Not just want.
Not just need.
But choice.
Every single one of us choosing this.
Choosing each other.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The air in the bedroom feels heavier now, charged and warm, as their hands move over me with quiet intention.
Elijah steps in first, his palm cupping my jaw as he tilts my face up to his.
The kiss starts deep and deliberate, his tongue sliding against mine in slow, claiming strokes that make my knees feel weak.
Zach’s fingers trail lightly down my arm, raising goosebumps, while Jackson moves behind me, his broad chest pressing warm against my back, hands settling at my waist.
“Let’s get this dress off you, sweetheart,” Jackson murmurs against my ear, his breath hot.
His fingers find the zipper at my spine and ease it down inch by inch, the soft metallic sound loud in the quiet room.
Zach helps from the front, sliding the thin straps off my shoulders one at a time, his mouth following the path, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone and the top of my breasts as the silk slips lower.
The dress pools at my feet in a whisper of fabric. I stand there in nothing but lace panties, skin already tingling everywhere they have touched.
Jackson hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and drags them down my legs with aching slowness, dropping to one knee so he can kiss the inside of my thigh as the lace falls away.
Zach kneels in front of me, spreading my thighs gently with warm hands.
He looks up at me for a moment, eyes dark and focused, before leaning in.
His tongue drags through my folds in one long, slow lick from entrance to clit. I gasp, fingers threading into his hair. He hums softly, the vibration rolling through me, then does it again, broader, wetter, taking his time to taste every inch of me.
“So wet already,” Zach murmurs against my slick skin. “But I want you dripping for all of us.”
Two thick fingers slide inside me, curling slowly as his tongue settles into lazy, devastating circles over my clit.
Elijah moves to my side, one hand sliding into my hair to hold me steady while his mouth closes around my nipple.
He sucks hard, teeth grazing just enough to make me moan loudly, then soothes the sting with his tongue.
Jackson stays behind me, one strong arm wrapped around my waist to keep me upright, his free hand cupping my other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as he kisses the back of my neck and shoulder.
“That’s it,” Jackson whispers against my skin, voice warm and rough. “Let Zach take care of you. Listen to those pretty sounds you’re making. You’re doing so well for us, sweetheart. So good and open already.”
The pleasure builds in thick, rolling waves under Zach’s patient mouth and fingers.
My thighs start to tremble. Elijah switches to my other breast, sucking harder, while Jackson’s fingers pinch and roll my nipple in time with Zach’s tongue.
I can hear how wet I am, filthy, slick sounds every time Zach’s fingers pump slowly in and out.
When the first orgasm finally crests, it rolls through me long and deep.
My back arches, a broken moan tearing from my throat as my walls clench rhythmically around Zach’s fingers.
Hot wetness floods his hand and tongue. Zach gentles his tongue but keeps moving, drawing every last pulse from me until the tremors ease.
He doesn’t stop.
Instead, he adds a third finger, stretching me wider, and his tongue returns to my clit with slow, firm circles.
The second orgasm builds even slower, deeper, every stroke of his tongue and curl of his fingers coaxing me higher.
Elijah’s mouth stays on my breast, sucking and licking, while Jackson’s hand slides down to rub my clit alongside Zach’s tongue when the pressure becomes too much.
“Come again for me, baby,” Zach murmurs against my pussy, voice low and steady. “I want you soaked. Let me feel you fall apart one more time.”
The second orgasm hits harder, slower, rolling through my entire body like a wave that refuses to break quickly.
I cry out, thighs shaking violently around Zach’s head as my walls pulse and flutter around his fingers.
Fresh slickness coats his hand and chin.
He rides me through every spasm, tongue and fingers working in perfect rhythm until I am limp and gasping, body trembling with aftershocks.
“Look at you, wife,” Elijah growls against my ear, his hand flexing around my throat. “Already so desperate to be fucked by all your men. My greedy little wife, dripping before we’ve even started. Can you feel how hard I am just thinking about filling you with every cock in this room?”