Chapter 24 The Flowers
TWENTY FOUR
The Flowers
April
Mateo had plates of food set out. Jax had dimmed the lights slightly. Someone had put on music, low ambient sound filling the space without demanding attention.
April and Killian stepped into the room.
No one looked up with questions. They just shifted: Jiro scooting over on the sectional, Mateo gesturing to the plates with a quiet "help yourself," Caleb mid-sentence about something that made Liam shake his head.
They settled April between Killian and Jiro, the others claiming chairs and couch arms and floor space with the easy comfort of people who'd stopped questioning whether they belonged. Jiro's fingers found hers, playing with them softly, tracing her knuckles, the spaces between her fingers.
No one was performing. Caleb had kicked his shoes off. Liam's tie was gone, collar open. Even Dante looked less like a don and more like a man who'd found a room worth staying in.
???
Caleb was the one who broke the comfortable silence. "So," he said, standing up with a grin. "We need to talk about the virgins in the room."
"The what?"
"Mateo and Liam," Caleb continued, gesturing to each in turn. "Haven't had sex with you yet. That's a problem." He looked at April like she'd missed a required checkbox.
"You're the one who collected us," Jax pointed out. "You don't get to leave the set incomplete."
"I didn't collect—"
"You did," Jiro said, watching her with that quiet, knowing smile.
They made her sound like the villain in a rom-com Pokémon parody. None of them looked particularly upset about it.
Dante's mouth curved. "And now you deal with the consequences."
Consequences. Right. Except she hadn't even thrown a Pokéball. They'd just shown up. Fully evolved, and looked at her with sad eyes that said "take me home".
Caleb clapped his hands. "Here's how this works. Each virgin gets a turn. Goal: make her come. We're judging."
"I'll be timing," Arthur said from across the room.
"Wait," April said. "I already know they can make me come."
Mateo and Liam both smirked, wide, knowing grins that made her stomach flip.
Caleb's smile turned absolutely wicked. "Then this is a real fucking competition. Full penetration. Show us what you've got."
Mateo and Liam exchanged looks, then grinned.
"Rock paper scissors for order?" Mateo suggested.
They played. Liam won, but he didn't move right away.
"Timer's starting," Arthur said from across the room.
"Before we start," Liam said, voice even, "I should clarify something."
There was something in his tone that made the room go very still.
"I'm not just a virgin to April," Liam said. "I am a virgin."
Caleb stared at him. "Wait—what? Why?"
"Because I don't do casual." Liam's shrugged, expression remaining fixed.
"That's—" Caleb gestured helplessly at Liam's entire face. "That's insane coming out of a man who looks like he owns three yachts."
"Two in the family," Liam corrected. "And they're not relevant."
Jax's voice cut in, dry. "Define 'virgin.'"
Liam glanced at him. "I've never had penetrative sex. With anyone."
"By choice," Jax clarified.
Liam pursed his lips. "It started as... not a choice, exactly. Just hadn't happened. Then I met someone who made me want it to mean something." His eyes found April's. "So I waited."
Mateo made a low sound, between acknowledgment and solidarity. "If we're admitting things..." Mateo tipped his head toward April. "Me too."
Caleb's head snapped toward him. "No."
Mateo's smile was pure trouble. "Yes."
"You're both serious," she managed.
"Completely," Mateo said.
Caleb's eyes narrowed. "Okay. Then why? Both of you. Why make that choice?"
Liam didn't hesitate. "Because I didn't want a story I wouldn't respect later. I've had opportunities. I didn't see the point in crossing a line for momentum when I could wait for intent."
"How far have you gone?" Jax asked.
"Far enough to know what I like," Liam said. "Not far enough to make the waiting feel pointless."
Mateo's answer came warmer, almost like he'd been waiting to say it and finally had the right room. "For me, it wasn't about purity. I like touch. I like pleasure. But sex..." He shrugged. "I didn't want it to feel like a habit. I wanted it to matter. To be worth the hunger."
"I don't like strangers in my bed," he added.
Caleb pointed at him. "How. How is that possible? You're literally in a living room surrounded by strangers."
Mateo's eyes swept the room, then returned to April. "These aren't strangers."
Jiro hummed agreement.
They chose her. And she felt the weight of their trust like something she wasn't qualified to hold.
April looked at them both. "Are you sure? Your first time and it's... like this?"
"I'm sure," Liam said.
"Me too," Mateo added.
April's throat tightened. "I want this to mean—" She stopped. Couldn't finish.
Liam's gaze held hers, steady and certain. "It does."
Something in April's chest cracked. He was ready. That's what he was saying. He'd waited and now he was ready and that was—She nodded once.
"Okay." She swallowed. "You can change your mind. Any time. You just tell me."
"We will," Mateo promised.
Caleb recovered, his grin shifting—less showman, more real. "Okay. Last call. Everyone gets a choice here. No pressure. No performance. If anyone wants this to stop being a fucking competition, say so now."
Silence.
April searched their faces. Found nothing but certainty.
"Okay," she said. "Then we're good."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Clock's still running."
Liam knelt in front of her, hooked his fingers in the waistband of Killian's boxers, and pulled them down. His hands paused at the top of her thighs.
Seven men watching Liam kneel for her like this was a moment worth witnessing.
Jiro stood and walked closer.
Liam's eyes flicked up to him. Jiro nodded once. Liam returned the nod.
"Listen to her breathing," Jiro said softly. "She'll tell you the tempo."
He paused, watching Liam's hands spread her legs wider.
"It's like a crescendo," Jiro added quietly. "Let it build."
Liam's gaze returned to April's face. He leaned in. The first stroke of his tongue was deliberate on her clit.
Oh. Jiro was right. Liam spoke music; of course he did, Sterling heirs probably had tutors for everything including how to breathe in proper concert hall tempo.
Her rhythm shifted.
Liam adjusted. Faster. Matching her.
She was building to something. That rise Jiro was talking about, the kind where you feel the peak coming like the moment before an orchestra hits the high note—
"Figure-eights cover more surface area." Jax said.
April's attention snagged on the voice. She closed her eyes. Concentrated. Sensation. Rhythm. Liam's hands steady on her thighs. The heat was still there. She could get back to it. Liam's tongue kept moving, pulling her back up—
"Add a finger." Caleb added.
The peak retreated. The crescendo was still there somewhere, like background music in an elevator, except the elevator had stopped between floors and the peanut gallery was discussing the mechanical specifications of the cable system.
She forced her shoulders down. Rolled her hips toward Liam's mouth like maybe if she moved with him instead of thinking about moving with him, the wave would catch her again.
Liam's mouth worked her with focused intensity, and the heat surged back—yes, there, almost—
"Consider impact play," Dante said, his formal tone making it sound like a reasonable suggestion, but also like he knew exactly what he was doing. "She likes being spanked."
Gone. The almost-orgasm dissolved into awareness of the room, the voices, the fact that she was apparently a group project now.
April's attention flicked fully to the voices now.
"Guys," she said, exasperated. "Quiet in the peanut gallery."
"Jiro, I appreciate the guidance." Liam said. "But the rest of you are turning this into a TED Talk, and she's not here anymore."
The room went silent.
"Gomen," Jiro said quietly.
April couldn't see him, but she heard him shift back, giving space.
Liam's attention returned to her completely. Not performing for the room. Not following directions.
"Please, look at me," he said.
April’s eyes met his.
"It's just us," Liam murmured, eyes on hers and breath warm against her inner thigh.
He spread her legs wider, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her toes curl.
April's brain supplied a thought: Sterlings don't kneel. Except apparently they do. And when they do, they make it look like a power move.
"I'm going to make this worth the wait," Liam said, and then his mouth was on her.
He traced her from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue. Focused attention that suggested he'd spent considerable time thinking about technique.
April's hands flew to the couch cushions, gripping hard.
The wet heat of his mouth was overwhelming. She could hear it: the obscene sounds of his tongue working her, the wetness gathering, slick and hot. His breath was warm against her skin, huffing slightly with effort or arousal, she couldn't tell which.
Liam hummed against her—a sound of satisfaction, of approval—and the vibration hit her clit, and her thighs locked, held.
"Fuck—" April gasped.
He tightened on her thighs, holding her open while his tongue flicked against her clit, taking her apart with long, slow strokes that pulled gasps from her, hips trying to move against his grip.
She was breathing hard. His mouth was relentless on her, chin slick with evidence of how ready she was.
When he finally sucked on her clit—direct, purposeful, his lips sealing around it—April whimpered.
Liam pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against her oversensitive flesh. His lips were wet, shining with her. "You're exquisite like this."
Then his mouth was back, and she stopped thinking. Only sensation: the wet heat of his tongue, seven men watching her come apart.