Chapter 29 Nash #2
Nothing like the filthy hunger from before. This kiss is quieter. Deeper. His palm comes up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking once over the flushed skin there with a kind of reverence I know he would deny if I ever called him on it.
Reva goes taut between them, caught in that exquisite place between brace and surrender.
“Mine,” he whispers against her mouth.
It should sound ugly. Possessive. It does.
And yet there is devotion braided into it too, something almost helpless.
“Yours,” she whispers back.
We all hear it.
Shiloh closes his eyes for half a beat like the word hit somewhere he wasn’t prepared to expose. Then he steps back, strips out of his slacks, tears the shirt over his head in a burst of impatience that feels more like relief than aggression.
“I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he tells her, voice roughened to splinters.
Ever shifts behind her, pulling her with him, scooting them both farther onto the bed so there’s room. He settles at her back like he was made to hold her there, one hand spread warm over her stomach, the other braced behind her. Supportive. Possessive. Steady.
Shiloh follows onto the bed on his knees, his cock in his hand, eyes fixed on Reva like she’s the only thing in the room worth seeing.
I stay where I am and watch. There’s something unexpectedly intimate in the way she looks at him. Not shy. Not uncertain. Just open in a way she hasn’t been before.
That alone nearly undoes me.
Shiloh drags the head of his cock through her slick and groans under his breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “Look at you.”
Reva’s lashes flutter. Ever kisses the spot beneath her ear.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Take him.”
Then Shiloh presses in.
Slow at first. Careful in a way I know costs him. Her neck pulls taut, her back arching into Ever’s chest as the stretch takes her, and the sound that comes out of both of them is almost the same—hers soft and breaking, his rough and disbelieving.
“Holy fuck,” Shiloh breathes when he finally seats himself all the way inside her.
His voice is glass. Shattered. Coarse.
Reva’s fingers fly to his arms. Not to push him back. To hold on.
Ever’s hand spreads wider over her belly, keeping her anchored while Shiloh starts to move.
We’ve never done this before. Never shared one woman like this. Never taken one apart together and put her back together with all our hands on her.
But watching Reva take him—watching the way she opens, the way she tries to hold onto herself and fails, the way Shiloh’s entire body goes reverent and wrecked over something he wants too much to hide—I know with absolute clarity I could do this for the rest of my life and never tire of it.
Shiloh starts slow. He doesn’t stay there.
Pleasure gets hold of him fast, turns each thrust rougher, needier, until the wet slap of skin fills the room and Reva’s head falls back onto Ever’s shoulder. Her mouth opens. Her body begins to move with him instead of against him, taking him deeper, meeting him harder.
“That’s it, firefly,” Ever whispers against her ear. “Come apart for him.”
Arms crossed over my chest, I watch her do exactly that. Watch her lose the last of her composure. Watch the first orgasm hit her like a wave she never had a chance of outrunning.
Her whole body seizes. Shiloh curses. Ever holds her through it, murmuring something low and soothing I don’t quite catch. When she comes down, Shiloh is already fraying, his thrusts gone erratic, his control a thing of the past.
He doesn’t last long… maybe another minute. Maybe less. Not with her clamped around him like that. Not with the sounds she’s making. Not with the look on her face every time he drives in deep enough to make her gasp.
When he comes, it’s with a broken sound I’ve never heard from him before, his forehead dropping briefly to her shoulder as he pumps her full and shudders through the force of it.
Reva is wrecked and glowing and still trying to catch her breath when Ever shifts. There’s no pause long enough for coolness to set in. No chance for the heat to ebb.
Ever turns her gently but firmly, guiding her down onto her hands and knees. Shiloh moves where he’s nudged, stroking himself with his cum still slicking his cock, dazed and grinning and not nearly finished with her.
The difference between the two of them would be amusing in another life. Shiloh stripped bare in impatience. Ever barely opens his pants enough to free himself.
And yet there is nothing restrained in the way he looks at her now.
Reva, ass in the air, hair tumbling over one shoulder, body already marked by our hands. Shiloh in front of her, giving her his cock with one lazy, filthy stroke against her lips. Ever behind her, one hand spanning her hip, his face gone sharp with concentration.
“This is going to hurt,” he tells her, ever honest.
She looks up through her lashes, mouth already opening for Shiloh, and says around the head of his cock, “Do it anyway.”
Something savage stirs low in me. Ever doesn’t waste another second. He drives into her hard enough to make her cry out around Shiloh.
All three of us feel it—the force of it. The claim in it.
The punishment, yes—but also the ache under it, the hurt he has yet to say aloud. She left him too. She made him watch her walk away just like she made the rest of us do it.
He’s going to make her feel that.
And I am going to love watching her take it.
“Good girl,” I tell her, because she is. “Take Ever. Own it.”
Shiloh slides his cock deeper across her tongue, one hand stroking through her hair without forcing, without taking more than she’s already given. There’s tenderness even in this, woven through the dirt of it. A kind of care none of us are used to naming.
Ever’s thrusts are rough, deep, punishing in the way only he can be. Skin slaps skin. Reva gasps around Shiloh’s cock with every movement, drool slick at the corner of her mouth, her body rocked forward by the force of him.
Then Ever gathers her hair in one fist, not cruelly. Just enough to hold her where he wants her. To keep her lifted.
Open.
Connected.
He uses the grip to angle her throat while Shiloh watches her mouth work over him and groans like he might lose his mind all over again.
Ever’s rhythm stays controlled far longer than Shiloh’s did. Measured. Brutal. Deliberate. He can hold himself on a line like no one I’ve ever known, but I see the first cracks in it soon enough. Hear the shift in his breathing. Watch the concentration turn glassy at the edges.
He looks at me—a question without words. Edge her again? Or let her fall?
I give him the smallest nod.
Let her fall.
He lets go of her hair and plants both hands on her hips.
One thrust.
Two.
On the third, he drives so deep her scream around Shiloh’s cock turns into a full-body convulsion.
She comes hard enough that all three of us feel it.
Her cunt locks down around him. Shiloh jerks with the shock of it against her mouth.
Ever curses once, low and raw, and keeps fucking her through every shudder.
Then he hauls her upright.
Strong enough to make it look easy.
He drags her back against his chest, still buried deep, and somehow finds an angle that makes her go slack boned in his arms.
That’s when I see his eyes glaze.
He comes with his mouth at her shoulder, his body bowed over hers, still holding her up while he empties himself inside her.
When he finally pulls out, cum follows in a slow, obscene spill.
“Such a messy, wet, used pussy,” I say, and the words are cruel but not untrue.
Reva makes a wrecked little sound that tells me she liked hearing it.
Ever eases her down carefully, touching her like she’s something precious even now, even after using her hard enough to leave her shaking.
“I can’t wait to fuck it all back into you,” I tell her.
Her eyes lift to mine through the haze.
I start unbuttoning my shirt.
Slowly.
Not for effect. Because I need the moment. Need her to see me coming to her with no pretense left. Belt next. Shoes. The rest of it. By the time I fist my cock, she’s still panting, still trying to come back to herself, and I am done pretending this is about patience.
I draw her to the edge of the bed.
“I meant it, Reva.”
My words cut through the post-orgasm daze enough that her eyes sharpen.
“No more running.”
Then I push into her. Her whole body bows with it.
Yeah.
My little wolf is ready.
She takes me hot and slippery and impossibly tight, already stretched, already worked open by the other two, but still gripping me like her body can’t decide whether to keep me out or drag me deeper.
“Taking us so well,” I murmur, because she is. “Own it.”
I fuck her hard.
Not as rough as Ever. Not as hungry as Shiloh. My own way. Deep, possessive, controlled right up until it stops being controlled at all.
Her cunt milks me with every thrust. Shiloh brushes damp hair from her forehead, kisses her temple, murmurs, “Take his cock just like you took mine, pretty girl. Make him come.”
The words make her contract around me.
“Fuck.”
Too much edging.
Too much want.
With anyone else, control is instinct. Effortless. I decide the pace. I decide the line. I decide when enough is enough.
With her, every starving part of me wants more than I should permit myself. More than I should need.
She looks ruined and glowing and held by the other men I trust most in the world, and for one blinding second the whole thing stops feeling like punishment and starts feeling dangerously close to devotion.
I reach down and pinch one of her nipples.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Just enough to make her feel me in it. Just enough to remind her that even here, even now, I am part of this. Part of them. Part of what she chose.
She breaks with a sound that goes straight through my spine.
Her body goes tight, then helpless, and I feel the exact second pleasure tears through her hard enough to steal whatever fight she had left.
It wrecks me, the way she comes apart. She does it with us. Together.
Because for one searing, impossible second, the fear that’s been riding under my skin since I saw her in this room finally has somewhere to go besides violence.
My control snaps.
There is no finesse left in it. No distance. No careful line between punishment and want. There is only Reva shaking in our hands, and the brutal relief of knowing she’s here.
Safe.
Ours.
I brace myself on the bed and lose the last of it with her name caught low in my throat, the force of it dragging me under hard enough that the room blurs at the edges.
After, for a second, all I can do is breathe.
Reva is still trembling. Ever is still behind her, touching her because he can’t seem not to. Shiloh looks half wrecked himself, staring at her like he’d drag this night out until dawn if I let him.
“Reva.”
Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t answer right away. She looks boneless in Ever’s hold, breathing like she had to fight her way back to the surface.
My chest tightens with the residue of fear I still haven’t fully burned off. I touch her face, gentler now. Brush damp hair back from her temple.
“Stay with me.”
Ever shifts behind her, changing his hold so it feels less like restraint and more like support.
One hand slides up her side, warm and grounding.
Shiloh, for once, doesn’t joke. He grabs the blanket tangled at the foot of the bed and drapes it over her hips and thighs, covering her without making a ceremony of it.
That’s the thing about us. However cruel we get in the taking, we will not leave her alone in the wreckage after.
“Now we talk,” I say.
Reva’s chin lifts on instinct, battered pride trying to reassemble itself.
“You mean,” she says hoarsely, “now you lecture me even more.”