Chapter 24 The Flowers #2
He brought her right to the edge, then eased back. His tongue gentled, letting the peak subside before building again. Until she was soaked and aching, clenching around nothing.
Then he stood, unbuckled his belt. The leather slid through the loops with a soft hiss.
"I've imagined this," Liam said, Sterling polish cracking at the edges. "More times than I can count. Thought about what you'd sound like. How you'd feel."
He pushed his pants down. Caleb appeared at Liam's elbow with a bottle of lube, pressed it into his hand without a word. Liam nodded, slicked himself.
"The reality," he continued, positioning himself between her spread legs, "is unbearable."
He pulled her to the edge of the couch and lined himself up.
The blunt head of his cock notched at her entrance, pressed forward.
The slide was smooth, her body opening for him slowly.
The ridge of his head dragged against sensitive tissue as he entered her, and she stretched around him, fluttered, adjusted.
He was thicker than she'd expected. The fullness felt exactly right.
April moaned. Liam's expression shifted, the careful control fracturing.
"God," he breathed, and the rawness in his voice was so unlike his usual refined tone that April felt it everywhere. "You're perfect. Absolutely perfect."
He moved like nothing else was happening, slow deep thrusts that stayed with her body and nowhere else.
Each stroke measured, like he was learning exactly what pulled gasps from her.
The angle created a pressure that built with each movement.
She could feel him everywhere, stretching her, filling her, the friction making her thighs shake.
He gripped her hips, pulling her into each stroke. The rhythm was controlled, but she could see what it cost him—the tension in his jaw, sweat beginning at his brow. His hips snapped forward harder, and she heard him grunt. She clenched around him.
"I thought—" His voice broke slightly, the cultured drawl fracturing into something raw. "I thought I could be civilized about this."
He watched her expression change when he shifted his hips, cataloguing the exact moment her mouth parted.
The pace increased, the Sterling composure dissolving with each thrust.
The pressure built from his cock hitting that spot with each stroke. Inner muscles drew him deeper, nerve endings firing with each drag of his length against slick inner walls.
"Turns out," Liam said, breathing harder now, his voice wrecked, "I was catastrophically wrong."
He adjusted his hips once.
Her breath caught on the next stroke.
"There," he murmured, almost to himself. "That's the angle."
One hand left her hip.
Found hers.
Fingers slid over hers, then threaded through, palm to palm.
He moved again, still holding her.
And the careful precision gave way to something more desperate. More honest.
"I want to watch you touch yourself," he said.
April's hand flew to her clit, and the combination of his cock inside her and her own fingers drove her higher, fast.
"That's it," Liam gasped, his rhythm faltering, the last of his control unraveling. The polished words were gone. Broken sounds, grunts and half-formed curses that didn't sound like him at all. "I want to feel you."
"I need to feel you," Liam said, and his voice finally broke. "Please."
It pulled from her like a promise. Her fingers clenched in his. Her inner walls tightened around him, and he thrust harder, faster, palms locked together, until he came with a shudder and her name.
He pulled out slowly, breathing hard, looking stunned, he'd surprised himself with how thoroughly he'd lost control. Neither of them moved.
His thumb brushed her cheekbone.
"Thank you," he said, and the formality was gone from his voice, leaving honest vulnerability.
April reached for him and pulled him down into a desperate embrace, arms clinging to him, head against his chest like she could remove every inch of space between them.
When they broke apart, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He held her, forehead resting against hers.
Around them, the room had gone quiet, giving them the moment even though the clock was still running.
After a long breath, Liam helped her sit up and pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping back.
"Time?" he managed, voice still wrecked.
Sterling heir on his knees, coming apart for her. Add it to the collection of moments she'd replay later when this was over and she was back to being regular April who made bad relationship choices and ate lunch alone.
"Seventeen minutes, eighteen seconds," Arthur reported.
April's body was still humming, finding its way back to a resting state that felt further away than usual. The air on her skin registered cool where it shouldn't have been, warm where someone had just been.
Jiro caught Liam's eye across the room. Nodded once, apology and respect in one gesture.
Liam returned the nod, stepped back, still breathing hard, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
Mateo didn't move immediately. "No peanuts this time," he said to the room, not looking away from April. "Just us." The room stayed silent.
He stood there, watching April catch her breath, watching the flush spread across her skin, watching the way she looked at him, wanting, but also waiting.
"You chose this."
April blinked, refocusing on him.
"You chose me," Mateo continued, moving closer now. "You chose all of us. Do you remember what I told you in my kitchen?"
"To be greedy."
"Sì." His hand cupped her face, thumb tracing her cheekbone. "To take everything you want."
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. She caught his scent: olive oil and rosemary and warmth.
"And you have been, haven't you?" His voice was warm with approval. "Being greedy." His other hand found her waist. "So don't stop now, cara. Keep choosing. Keep taking."
She nodded and meant it.
"I want you lost in this," Mateo murmured. "I want you wanting. No permission, no plan. Just take." His hand slid down her side, “What your body wants."
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Can you do that for me, cara? Can you let yourself have this?"
April nodded.
He squeezed her waist and then he turned her to face the back of the couch.
"Bend over, bellissima."
She did, hands braced on the cushions.
Her body was already primed—still wet from Liam, still aching, carrying the aftermath with her.
The fabric of her shirt slid up to her waist under Mateo's hands.
His palms spread over her hips, parted her. Warm and calloused, firm but careful, and she heard the low sound of approval he didn't bother to hide.
"So beautiful.” His hands slid up her spine. Thumbs pressing into muscle like he was testing what he intended to savor.
"You carry it here," he murmured, kneading once, twice. "All that wanting."
"Let it go, you don't have to ration yourself."
His palms drifted lower, slower now, warmth spreading under his touch.
"Still hungry?"
She nodded.
"Così," he groaned, approval roughening his voice.
Cool air kissed her exposed skin, shocking after all the body heat, sending sparks along her nerves. She was acutely aware of the slick warmth along her thighs, lingering evidence of Liam still inside her.
He positioned himself at her entrance—she was still dripping from Liam, still open—the blunt head of his cock pressing against her.
Then he pushed inside in one smooth thrust. The angle was different from Liam's.
He hit new places, pressure building against her front wall immediately.
Her body gripped tight around him, adjusting.
"Fuck," Mateo groaned. "You feel incredible."
His breathing turned ragged almost immediately, low grunts each time he bottomed out inside her.
She clenched around him. Then one hand slid up her spine.
His hand hot against her skin, fingers splaying wide before tangling in her hair and pulling gently.
The grip on her scalp sent tingles down her neck, the slight burn where he tugged making her arch further.
The other hand moved lower.
His thumb, slick with lube, circled her asshole. The lube was cool against her heated skin, the contrast making her shiver. She felt the pad of his thumb pressing, testing, circling the tight ring of muscle.
Then his thumb pressed inside, slowly and carefully, and April moaned. The initial burn made her tense, her body instinctively resisting the intrusion, but he didn't push harder, only held steady pressure until her muscles yielded and let him breach her.
But then he was inside, and the dual sensation sent sparks up her spine—his cock pounding into her pussy, his thumb breaching her ass. She could feel both penetrations, filling her until she couldn't separate them. Her stomach braced, pulling tighter with each thrust.
"Oh god—"
"That's it, cara," his voice rough, his rhythm never faltering even as his thumb worked deeper into her ass. "Let me hear you."
The burn faded into something fuller. Deeper. Nerve endings she didn't know she had lit up.
Don Dante appeared in front of her, hard and watching her with those dark, calculating eyes.
"May I?" he asked, his voice formal even now.
The head of his cock brushed against her mouth, smooth and body-hot, a bead of pre-cum salty on her lips. She opened for him, tongue positioning automatically, jaw stretching to accommodate his girth as he slid inside, his weight settling on her tongue and his taste spreading through her mouth.
She adjusted her breathing, inhaling through her nose as he filled her, while Mateo fucked her from behind, deep, satisfying strokes that made her body acknowledge its own hunger.
Mateo's hand came up, reaching over her back.
Don Dante looked at it. Looked at Mateo.
Mateo grinned and raised his hand higher.
Don Dante's expression shifted to reluctant amusement, and he reached over her bent body to slap Mateo's palm.
"Eiffel tower!" Jax called from across the room.
"Shut up, Jax," Dante and Mateo said in unison. But they were both grinning now, moving in sync.
Mateo's thumb pressed deeper in her ass, his cock hitting that spot inside her and white sparks scattered across her vision.
The pressure built from everywhere. His thumb stretching her.
His cock pounding that perfect angle. Then his other hand found her clit, and she was going to come again, already, and—
Her orgasm broke open—hungry and hers. Her body convulsed around both of them, inner walls clenching rhythmically around Mateo's cock, her ass tightening around his thumb. She cried out around Don Dante's cock, the sound muffled and desperate.
Mateo followed immediately, groaning as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing inside her as he came.
Don Dante's rhythm shifted. His hand came to her hair and his breathing roughened as his hips pushed forward.
She felt him swell on her tongue, felt the tension coil through his grip on her hair, and then he was coming—hot and salt, flooding her mouth.
She swallowed around him and he let out a low groan.
He stayed there for a moment, softening against her tongue, before he withdrew carefully and cursed in Italian.
They held her there for a moment, all three of them breathing hard.
Mateo slid his thumb out carefully, the absence almost as intense as the penetration.
Then his arms came around her waist as he pulled her back against his chest. His heart hammered against her back, his breathing still ragged against her neck, his cock still inside her, softening but not yet withdrawn.
April's body felt different than it had after Liam.
Not just wrung out—fed. Warm all the way through, like she'd been left in the sun.
Her muscles had gone languid. The kind that didn't want to move because staying here, folded against Mateo's chest with his hands still mapping her waist, felt better than standing ever would.
She felt full. Sated. Known. Being chosen. Being greedy and getting exactly what she'd asked for.
Mateo pressed another kiss to her temple, and she felt him smile against her skin.
"See?" he murmured against her hair, and she could hear the smile in his voice, "Not strangers."
April turned her face toward him, and he met her halfway; a kiss that tasted like dessert. Like he didn't want to leave the taste behind.
Around them, the room had gone quiet again. The same respectful silence they'd given Liam. Letting Mateo have this moment.
When they finally broke apart, he kept holding her, forehead resting against her temple, thumb tracing slow circles on her hip.
"Time," Killian said after a moment, sounding strangled.
"Twelve minutes, forty-two seconds," Arthur reported.
Mateo pressed one more kiss to her temple before carefully withdrawing and helping her sit up.
Jax appeared with wet cloths. Caleb brought water.
They cleaned them both while April and Mateo stayed close, quiet.
"So," Caleb said after a moment. "Who won?"
"Tie," Jiro said from his spot on the couch. "They both earned their place."
"Agreed," Killian said, his voice rough.
Mateo and Liam looked insufferably pleased with themselves.