Chapter 30
Tori
Three Months Later
The babies came only a few days after my father’s visit. Perhaps they knew it was finally safe, that we were ready to welcome them into the world, a world of peace we had fought to establish for them. The labor was hard of course, but the joy that came after quickly surpassed the pain.
Three months ago, my world split into three cries. Three tiny voices. Three tiny fists. Three perfect little lives. And somehow, in the chaos of it all, I split too, and became something bigger than just Tori. I became a mother.
The clubhouse is quieter these days. Not silent or empty, never that, but it’s different.
The arrival of the babies and the newfound peace made it softer.
The roar of engines still echo outside and laughter still spills from the bar downstairs.
But now there’s also the rhythmic hum of white noise machines and baby mobiles, the sound of babies crying and giggling.
The sound of grown bikers making baby noises.
The scent of baby powder and milk mixing with leather and gasoline.
My life smells like baby vomit and engine grease and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Boy number one, our serious little observer, is asleep against Flint’s chest right now. His tiny hand fisted into the fabric of the Ghost Riders’ insignia on Flint’s shirt like he already understands he’s one.
Boy number two, Hunter’s biological twin in spirit if not in looks, is dozing in the bassinet after fighting sleep like it insulted him personally.
And our girl, Cyrus’s daughter, lies curled against me, warm and soft, her breath feathering across my collarbone, while Cyrus cooks for us all.
We did the DNA test weeks ago. Not because we needed to know, but because the doctor recommended it, and there was something beautiful about the symmetry of it. It turned out that we were blessed with one biological child each.
Declan Cole is Flint’s son, a solid name for perhaps a future leader.
Asher Wilder, Hunter’s son, is wild by name, wild by nature.
And Aria Sage is Cyrus’s daughter. She embodies his calm strength even at such a young age.
She watches us with quiet, thoughtful eyes even as her brothers are screaming their lungs out.
But from the moment the paternity results came in, nothing changed. My men are all fathers to all three babies.
Hunter had grinned and said, “Guess we all did our part.” Flint kissed my forehead. Cyrus had simply pressed his hand over mine and whispered, “Family.”
That word still makes my chest tighten. I have everything I ever wanted.
Most importantly, the babies are thriving.
Chubby cheeks, strong kicks, loud, demanding lungs.
They’re gaining weight beautifully. Their eyes are starting to focus better.
Our girl already tracks movement like she’s studying the room.
Flint says she has my stubborn stare. I look down at her now and brush a finger along her impossibly soft cheek.
My body feels different, heavier yet stronger in some places, softer in others.
The swelling has gone down, but not completely.
My hips are wider, my breasts fuller. There are faint stretch marks which lace my stomach like lightning bolts across my skin.
The first time I really looked at them in the mirror, I cried.
Not because I hated them, but because I didn’t recognize myself.
I’d spent so long learning to love my body it felt like a setback.
I was always curvy, but now I’m even softer, rounder. My men have noticed.
God, do they notice. But not with disappointment. They still look at me with hunger and desire, perhaps even more than before, and now with reverence.
“You gave us our family,” Flint told me last week when he caught me staring at my reflection too long. “You’re perfect.”
Hunter had run his hands down my hips, grinning. “You were dangerous before. Now you’re lethal.”
Cyrus kissed the stretch marks like they were medals. “These are beautiful. You are beautiful, you always will be.”
I didn’t believe them at first but I’m slowly starting to. Just as I did when I first got here.
Shelly offered to stay in the nursery room recently so we could have some ‘alone time’, winking at me when she said it. “You four need to remember you’re more than parents,” she teased. I turned down her offer, thanking her but feeling mortified at the thought of her hearing us.
I’m still learning how to be a parent, let alone finding who I am as a person again, as a lover.
Tonight is the first night the babies are all sleeping at the same time. A miracle. Flint shifts carefully, transferring our son into the bassinet. Hunter dims the lights. Cyrus brushes his fingers down my spine, slow and steady.
It’s been three months.They’ve been patient, gentle, careful, giving me the time and space I needed to heal.
But I can feel the tension in the room tonight.
I know that we’re finally going to spend some intimate time together.
We move slowly into the bedroom we shared on nights we were intimate, before the babies.
We take our time, we don’t need to rush.
I’m ready. I swallow, throat all of a sudden dry. My heart beats faster.
“You nervous?” Hunter asks softly, trailing his fingers down my arm and making the hairs stand on end.
“A little.” It’s a good kind of nerves though.
Flint steps closer, cupping my face. “We stop the second you want.”
Cyrus nods. “Always.”
I look at the three of them, the fathers of my children. The men who stood between me and a war. The men who held me while I pushed three lives into the world. The men I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“I want this,” I say. I mean it.
Flint kisses me first. He’s slow, unhurried.
It’s like he’s reacquainting himself with my rhythms, even though we’ve kissed since the birth of course, this time we know it’s going further.
Hunter’s hands settle at my waist and he kisses the back of my neck, I can feel his arousal pressing against my ass and my pussy responds, twitching excitedly.
Cyrus’s fingers trace the curve of my arm and I reach out to stroke him through his pants, feeling how he hardens under my touch.
They slowly explore every inch of my skin, rediscovering me, peeling off my clothes like a snake shedding its skin until I am reborn.
Suddenly I’m grateful that I allowed Shelly to at least sleep in the guest room with a baby monitor, ready to see to the babies if one of them wakes, I don’t want anything to break the spell of this moment.
I love being a mother, but right now, I need to be Tori the lover.
My body reacts differently now. It’s more sensitive in some places. When Hunter’s hand drifts over my hip and down to stroke my clit, circling through my panties, heat blooms lower in my stomach in a way that makes me gasp softly. They all freeze instantly.
“You okay?” Cyrus murmurs.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”
Flint rests his forehead against mine. “You’re even more beautiful.”
I almost laugh. “You’re biased,” I say with a smile, kissing him.
“No,” Hunter says quietly. “We’re grateful.”
The words mean more to me than he can know, finally brushing aside my concerns about my new body. My body is so strong, it made us our babies, every mark of that is something to be proud of, to be grateful for, to love.
Their touches grow more confident. Flint’s lips move down my neck.
Hunter’s fingers map the curve of my thigh, tracing up to the wetness between my legs as he strokes me slowly.
I moan as I grow wetter under his familiar touch.
Cyrus’s hand spreads warm and steady across my breasts, tweaking the nipples, moving down my stomach, thumb brushing one of the faint stretch marks.
Emotion swells so unexpectedly that my eyes sting.
My body doesn’t feel like something to hide anymore.
It feels like something that accomplished something extraordinary.
They finish undressing me slowly, reverently. Appreciating every inch, they lick and kiss me, worshipping me until I am bared before them. When I hesitate, glancing down at my softer stomach, Flint lifts my chin.
“Look at me,” he says. “I’ve never loved you more,” he tells me, staring me in the eye.
Hunter nods. “You’re glowing.”
Cyrus kisses my shoulder. “You gave us our children.”
That breaks whatever last insecurity clings to me.
I stop shrinking and I let them see me. The first touches are careful and they check in constantly, eyes searching my face for any flicker of discomfort.
But my body remembers and responds. When they remove their clothing and I see their naked forms I have a wobble of insecurity at how sexy and toned they are but I remind myself that they too have things they dislike about their bodies, that no one is perfect, yet I don’t see them as anything but and they feel the same about me.
The sensation builds slowly—heat and connection and something deeper than just desire as our naked bodies intertwine.
Hunter maps the same route of my thighs with his tongue this time building the anticipation as his tongue comes tantalizingly close before he moves away until I am begging him for his mouth on my pussy.
He licks and teases me, and my arousal gushes out like a dam that’s burst as his fingers slide inside me.
The sensation is tender but not uncomfortable and with Cyrus and Flint both teasing my breasts, kissing me, and touching every inch of my skin, I reach my climax far too soon.
“Hunter, I need you,” I moan, pulling him close. It only seems right that the man I lost my virginity to should be the first tonight.
“Are you sure?” he asks, afraid to hurt me.
“If you don’t fuck me, know that you’ll be in big trouble,” I groan, only half joking.
He pushes inside me slowly, filling me inch by inch, the feeling isn’t too dissimilar to our first time, uncomfortable and a little painful but also incredible.
I reach out to stroke Cyrus and Flint’s erections, wanting them to be a part of it, to bring all of my men pleasure.
We soon fall back into the easy, familiar rhythms, knowing what we each like and how to reach our climax.
As the first orgasm ripples through me, Hunter finds his too, cumming sooner than usual.
But given how long it’s been since he’s been inside me, that was to be expected.
Hunter kisses me deeply before moving out of the way to allow Flint and Cyrus their turns.
Again, they hesitate and I take control, not wanting this to end until we’ve all reached our pinnacle.
I move to all fours, wanting them both at the same time.
Flint comes behind me, Cyrus in front. Hunter’s eyes are on me the whole time, watching with pride and lust.
When Flint moves inside me, I gasp, not from pain, but from the overwhelming flood of feeling.
The sex feels like a celebration, a reclamation, we’re stepping back into something we simply paused.
His hands anchor my hips and he glides in and out, slow and steady. Cyrus’s mouth finds mine, steadying me.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs.
“Yes, let me pleasure you too,” I murmur. Cyrus moves to position his throbbing erection in front of me and I lick the salty precum from his cock, enjoying the moan it elicits from him.
Flint’s rhythm builds gradually, never pushing too far, never forgetting what my body has been through, but the passion is there between us all. In fact, it’s stronger, maybe, because of everything we survived.
Flint’s thrusts become faster, his breathing uneven. “You’re incredible. Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this.”
“Me too,” I groan before taking Cyrus’s cock in my mouth as deep as I can.
“Oh shit,” Flint grunts as he unexpectedly reaches his climax. He chuckles, promising to make it up to me, as if he needs to.
“I’m sure you will,” I reply with a wink. “For now, I’m sure Cyrus can give me orgasm number two,” I say, pushing Cyrus down to lie on his back and straddling him.
Cyrus presses a kiss over my heart, circling my nipple with his tongue before laying back to admire the view.
His hand grips mine tight as I guide myself onto his cock.
I moan as I grind on him, taking my time to feel every new sensation.
Flint and Hunter move to caress me, their kisses and hands warm on my skin, sending ripples of pleasure through my body.
When my orgasm finally crests, it feels less explosive and more expansive, spreading warmth and love through every inch of me.
It might not be the screaming orgasms or rough, passionate sex we’ve had in the past, but it feels more loving, more fulfilling, and there will be some rough and tumble sex to come in the future, I’m sure.
I feel exhausted, spent and deliciously sore as we lay back, panting and satiated fully for the first time in a long while.
Afterward, we stay tangled together, breath slowing in the quiet room. The babies remain asleep, a small miracle. Flint brushes his fingers through my hair. “You okay?” he asks again.
I nod, smiling lazily. “More than okay.”
Hunter rests his hand over my stomach, thumb tracing idle circles. “You’re still perfect.”
Cyrus kisses my temple. “Always.”
“Even when I’m old and wrinkled?” I tease.
Hunter winks. “Especially then,” he says with a grin.
I think about the girl I used to be. The one who measured her worth against her father’s approval, and then in defiance and revenge.
In proving something. I think about the woman I am now.
I am a mother, a partner, I am loved. I think about the woman I might grow to be, and the life I am going to build with the men I love and our children.
My body is different, but it is stronger as well as softer.
I’m starting to love it because of the story it tells.
Because of what it gave me and the power it has.
I will never again be scared, ashamed, self loathing Victoria King.
I don’t mourn the loss of the girl I used to be, she’d be proud to see the woman I have become.
I curl deeper into my men, surrounded by warmth and steady breathing and the quiet hum of the baby monitor.
“I can’t wait to raise our children and grow old together. We’ll love you forever, Tori, no matter what. You gave us our family,” Flint whispers again.
“No, we gave each other one,” I reply softly.
For the first time in my life, I feel completely content in my own skin. I realize that I didn’t need to change, to lose weight or be a different person, I just needed to be accepted and loved for who I am in order to learn how to love myself. Finally, I have a family. I am home.