Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
éTIENNE
Iclimb onto the bed and something inside me finally stops fighting.
"Stop." The word comes out low, commanding, and Bastien freezes mid-thrust. "Pull out."
He obeys without question, withdrawing with a groan . Madeline whimpers at the loss, her hips pushing back, seeking.
"Shh." I run my hand down her spine, feeling her shiver beneath my palm. "I've got you."
I position myself behind her, taking in the sight. Her thighs trembling. Her back arched, presenting herself. Everything about her right now is an offering I don't deserve and can't refuse.
"You've been so good," I murmur, trailing my fingers through her wetness. "Taking both of them while I watched. Asking so sweetly for me to join."
"Etienne—"
"Not yet." I circle her clit once, twice, then pull my hand away. She sobs at the loss. "First, I want to see something."
I grip her hips and flip her onto her back.
She lands with a gasp, looking up at me with wide eyes, her chest heaving. I take a moment to look at her. Flushed skin. Swollen lips. Nipples peaked and reddened from Bastien's mouth. A mess of arousal on her inner thighs.
Mine. Theirs. Ours.
"Spread your legs," I tell her. "Show me."
She does, letting her thighs fall open, and the sight of her, swollen and glistening, makes my whole body tighten.
"Wider."
She spreads wider, her cheeks flushing with the exposure.
"Touch yourself," I say. "Show me how you like it when you're alone. When you're thinking about us."
Her hand trembles as it slides down her stomach. Her fingers find her clit, circling slowly, slipping lower to push two fingers inside herself. I watch her hips roll, watch her mouth fall open—
"Stop."
She freezes, a desperate sound escaping her throat.
"You don't come until I say." I lean over her, bracing my hands on either side of her head, letting her feel the heat of my body without touching her. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." Barely a whisper.
"Good girl." I let my eyes drag down her body, taking my time. "So responsive. Spreading your legs for three men. Letting us have every part of you."
She moans, her hips lifting off the bed.
"You like that? Hearing what you are to us?" I wrap my hand around my cock, stroking slowly, letting her watch. "Answer me."
"Yes." Her voice cracks. "Yes, I like it."
I lean down and kiss her. Not softly. I kiss her like I own her, my tongue pushing past her lips, my teeth catching her bottom lip. She moans into my mouth, her hands flying to my chest, dragging her nails down my stomach, and I pin them above her head with one hand.
"Keep them there," I tell her against her lips. "Don't move them until I say."
I kiss down her throat, biting the spot where her pulse hammers, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. I move lower, taking her nipple into my mouth and sucking until she cries out, then biting down just enough to make her back arch off the bed.
"Etienne—please—"
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me." She's writhing beneath me, her hips rolling. "I need to feel you. Please."
I look at Bastien and Raphael, both of them hard, watching.
"Raphael," I say. "Come here. I want her mouth on you while I'm inside her."
Raphael moves to the head of the bed, kneeling beside her. Madeline turns toward him, her lips parting, and he slides into her mouth with a groan.
"That's it." I notch myself at her entrance, rubbing through her folds. "Take him deep."
I push inside her.
The sensation nearly undoes me. She's impossibly tight, impossibly wet, her walls gripping me, and I have to pause, buried to the hilt, breathing through my teeth.
"Fuck," I grit out. "You have no idea how long I've thought about this."
She moans around Raphael, the vibration making him groan, and I start to move.
Slow at first. Long, deep strokes that let me feel every ridge inside her. I pull almost all the way out, then slam back in hard enough to make her cry out around Raphael.
I set a punishing rhythm. One hand gripping her hip, the other finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
She nods frantically around Raphael, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
"Greedy girl," I murmur, watching her take both of us. "Two isn't enough for you, is it?"
I look at Bastien. He's watching with dark eyes, his hand moving on himself, waiting.
I pull out. She wails around Raphael at the loss. I flip her onto her back again, pushing her legs up, folding her nearly in half, her knees beside her ears.
"Hold your legs," I tell her. "Don't let go."
She grabs behind her knees, holding herself open, her eyes wide and trusting.
I slam into her.
The angle is devastating. I can see where I disappear inside her, can watch her face contort with pleasure as I bottom out. Her moans are constant now, high and broken, and I fuck her like that, driving into her with strokes that make the headboard hit the wall.
"Look at me," I tell her. "Don't close your eyes. I want to see you while I take you."
Her eyes lock on mine. Dark. Wet. Completely open.
"You'd let me do anything," I say, not slowing. "Let all three of us do anything."
"Anything," she gasps. "I'm yours. However you want me."
I slow. Hold still inside her. Let the heat build.
"I want something," I say carefully. "All three of us. At once. Every part of you."
Her breath catches. I watch understanding move across her face. Not fear. Desire, layered with nerves.
"I've never done that," she whispers.
"I know." I brush the hair from her face. Let her see me, not the command, not the control. Just me. "I'll stop any time you say. You have that word and it ends."
She looks at Raphael. At Bastien. Back at me.
"I want to try," she says. "With you. All of you."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
I pull out slowly. Help her sit up. Kiss her, slow this time, letting her feel the tenderness underneath the hunger.
"We go slow," I tell Bastien. "You listen to her. Every sound. If she tenses, you stop."
Bastien nods. He grabs lube from the nightstand, warming it between his fingers. I move Madeline over me, straddling my hips, and sink into her from below. She gasps, bracing her hands on my chest.
"Stay right there," I say. "Focus on me."
Behind her, Bastien's hands are gentle. Patient. I feel her tense at the first touch, and I pull her down to my chest, my mouth finding her ear.
"Breathe," I murmur. "Just breathe. Focus on how I feel inside you."
I rock my hips, giving her pleasure to anchor her while Bastien works her open. One finger. She exhales sharply. I kiss her throat.
"Still good?"
"Yes. More."
Two fingers. She buries her face against my neck, making a sound I've never heard from her. Overwhelmed. Not in pain.
"Good girl," I say against her hair. "You're doing so well."
"I'm ready," she breathes. "Please. I want to feel both of you."
Bastien positions himself behind her. His hands steady on her hips. He presses forward, and the sound Madeline makes is something between a cry and a moan, raw and desperate. I feel the pressure of him through the thin wall separating us, feel her body stretching to accommodate both of us.
"Breathe," I tell her, holding still, letting her adjust. "That's it. You're taking both of us. You're perfect."
"So full," she gasps, tears streaming. "I'm so full."
"Too much?"
"No. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
We begin to move. Slowly. When I push in, Bastien pulls out. A continuous slide that keeps her full, and the sensation is unlike anything, the pressure, the heat, her body clenching around both of us.
Raphael moves to her side, his hand cupping her face, turning it toward him. He kisses her, slow and grounding, his other hand finding her breast.
"Harder," she gasps against Raphael's mouth. "I can take it."
We give her harder.
The room fills with the sounds of skin against skin, of her broken moans, of three men groaning as we move inside her and around her. She's trembling between us, overwhelmed, her body clenching and releasing in waves.
"That's it," I say, gripping her thighs. "Take it. Take all of us."
She clenches at the words, and I know she's close. I can feel it building in her.
"Don't come yet," I tell her. "Not until I say."
She sobs, her hips trying to grind against me, trying to chase the release I'm holding back.
"Please," she begs when Raphael pulls back from her mouth. Her voice is wrecked. "I can't hold it. Please let me come."
"Who do you belong to?"
"You." She's crying, pleasure and desperation. "All of you. I belong to all of you."
"Come." I thrust up hard, grinding against her clit. "Right now."
The orgasm rips through her. Her whole body convulsing, clenching around both of us so tight I can barely move, a scream that echoes off the walls. She shakes through it, wave after wave, and the sight of her completely undone, completely ours, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Fuck—" Bastien buries himself deep with a groan, and I feel him pulsing.
Raphael strokes himself and comes across her stomach with a quiet, reverent sound.
And I let go.
I bury myself to the hilt and empty everything I have into her, my vision going white, my body shaking with the force of it. I come harder than I have in years, maybe ever, and she trembles through the aftershocks while I hold her against my chest.
Nobody speaks. Nobody moves. The only sound is breathing, ragged and slow, coming back to earth.
Then, slowly, we untangle. Bastien pulls out first, collapsing onto the bed with a groan. I gather Madeline against my chest as I roll onto my side. Raphael finds a towel, cleaning her gently before lying down beside us.
Her heartbeat is rapid against my ribs. Slowing gradually.
"I can't feel my legs," Bastien announces to the ceiling. "Just so everyone knows. My legs are gone."
"Tragic," Raphael murmurs.
"I may never walk again. This is your fault, Etienne. You and your—" He waves a hand vaguely. "Commanding presence."
"You're welcome."
Madeline is quiet, her face pressed into my chest. I tilt her chin up, needing to see her eyes.
"Are you alright?"
She blinks at me slowly. Then a smile spreads across her face. Exhausted, satisfied, glowing.
"I'm perfect," she whispers. "Absolutely perfect."
I kiss her forehead. Her nose. The corner of her mouth.
"Stay," she murmurs, her eyes drifting closed. "All of you. Please."
Bastien shifts closer, his arm draping across us. Raphael's hand finds her hip.
"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her.
The room is quiet now. Golden light fading to blue through the windows.
Bastien is snoring. Raphael's breathing has gone deep and even. Madeline is a warm weight against my chest, her fingers curled loosely in the sheet.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. The baby monitor. I check it automatically. Sophie's face on the screen, peaceful in sleep, her arm thrown over Emma who somehow migrated to her bed.
I set the phone down and look at the ceiling.
Forty years of control. Forty years of keeping everyone at arm's length, of building walls so high I forgot there was anything on the other side.
And now I'm lying in a hotel bed with two men I spent three years hating and a woman who looked at all my sharp edges and decided to stay anyway.
It should terrify me.
It doesn't.
Madeline shifts in her sleep, burrowing closer, and I tighten my arm around her without thinking.
I stay awake a little longer than the others, watching the light change on the ceiling and listening to the quiet rhythm of three sleeping breaths.
Eventually, the tightness in my chest loosens, and sleep finally finds me.