CHAPTER 11
Liam
Clean clothes had been laid out on the bed while Owen and I were in the shower.
I didn’t bother asking how he knew my size to be this kind of prepared.
I’d fully accepted that Owen probably knew more about me and my life than even I did.
I just reveled in feeling seen and cared for—in having everything right down to the smallest detail.
It was nice to breathe and not think. To know everything would be okay without me having to think about every little detail.
To know I didn’t have to plan and compensate.
I couldn’t put into words how that made me feel.
The soft lounge pants and shirt were heaven against my skin as I pulled them on. They soothed the pleasant buzz running along my nerves. The fabric wasn’t quite silk, but whatever it was, it was expensive.
“Navy looks good on you,” Owen commented softly, drawing my attention away from the sleeves as I toyed with them. My instant smile faded when I turned to look at him, and my mouth dried almost instantly at the sight of him.
It was almost unfair how incredible he looked. Gray lounge pants hung low on his hips, the fabric loose enough to look comfortable yet somehow still drawing my attention exactly where it shouldn’t have gone. Unable to help myself, my gaze raked over every inch of him.
Fresh and damp from the shower, the grays in his otherwise dark hair had vanished. The slightly tousled look softened his demeanor in a way that made my stomach flip. Water still faintly clung to the sharp lines of his body, highlighting the lean muscle that made up every inch of him.
My eyes dragged lower before I thought twice about it.
A dark line of hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
I followed the trail and took in the subtle outline of his dick.
Heat crept up my neck as the events in the shower still showed in how it settled long and hard against the thin fabric.
By the time my gaze found its way back to his handsome face, he was grinning as he watched me. The expression wasn’t controlled or calculated. There was something tender and real in it—something that extended beyond the Architect role he played. It was disorienting and confusing.
Because standing there, relaxed and smiling at me like that, Owen looked less like a fantasy carefully constructed to meet my request and more like a man I could actually want in the real world.
His brow arched curiously, and I realized I hadn’t said a single word.
“Thank you,” I rushed to say. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He held out a hand for me to take. “Come on. To the kitchen with you.”
My fingers slid through his without hesitation, and I enjoyed the way his warmth enveloped me.
He seemed unaffected as he pulled me with him back out into the hall.
I trailed after him to the kitchen, where Ares moved between the island and the counter.
He was dressed as simply as Owen was in a pair of black lounge pants. My shirt suddenly seemed like too much.
“Are lounge sets a thing?” I asked.
“We like to make sure everyone is comfortable,” Owen said.
“That,” Ares added, “and it’s easier to undress you when jeans aren’t involved.”
He had a point, but I still blushed faintly. It didn’t matter that both of them had seen me naked and more. People just didn’t talk the way these two did—or maybe they did, and I’d just known all the wrong people.
Food was spread across the island. Halved strawberries, sliced mangos, artisanal cheeses, random kinds of nuts, an assortment of crackers, and an array of meats were divided up between several charcuterie boards.
Just the sight of it all incited the first real pang of hunger I’d experienced all day.
“Oh, that looks good,” I told them as I stopped at the island.
“Good,” Ares replied. “It’s light, it’s easy, and who doesn’t love a damn good charcuterie board?”
That last part made me laugh. A stool nudged the back of my thighs, and I sat back without hesitation. Owen’s hands landed on my shoulders as soon as I was settled, moving right back to lightly massaging the muscles there, as if I wasn’t already putty under his touch.
“Open for me, pretty boy,” Ares said as he stabbed a piece of mango with a fork. My mouth opened on command, and the burst of sweet-tart juice on my tongue made me moan. I didn’t even question that the assortment of food contained most of my favorites—not at this point. “Good?”
“Very.”
Owen’s hands moved over my shoulders and upper back while Ares continued to offer me bites of everything spread across the island.
He talked me through it all, explaining why this meat paired well with that cheese or how this nut complemented that fruit.
Most of his words were lost on me. Letting someone else feed me was…
an experience to say the least. It wasn’t a fantasy or something I ever imagined.
It was an intimacy I wasn’t prepared for—something strangely consuming in a way that caught me off guard.
Not in a bad way. It was just different. Different and enjoyable.
He popped another large piece of mango in my mouth, and as I took a bite, its juices spilled down my chin.
Before I had a chance to wipe it away, Ares’s strong fingers framed my jaw.
He tilted my head slightly, and his tongue swept over my chin with an appreciative sound that I felt down in my very core.
My dick stirred and thickened along my thigh in response, and I turned into him, my mouth landing on his.
His lips were soft and warm against mine as he took control, not that I was fighting him for it.
His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting of almonds and all the things I shouldn’t want all over again.
Behind me, Owen’s fingers slid up the sides of my neck, and his fingers threaded through my damp hair.
His hot breath fanned over my skin, making me shudder, and his lips pressed over my pulse.
The sensation had me gasping into Ares’s mouth.
Owen’s lips trailed a deliberate path along my neck that sent sparks racing down my spine.
Ares pulled back just enough to look at me with an expression I couldn’t quite name. His dark gaze roamed over every inch of my face. I could practically feel the weight of it, and my cheeks flamed hot. The pad of his thumb dragged slowly over my lower lip.
“You taste so goddamn sweet,” he commented.
“It’s the mango,” I mumbled, making him chuckle. Even the sound of his laughter was downright sinful.
“It’s not the mango, pretty boy,” Ares said. He leaned in and kissed me once more, harder and more demanding.
My lounge pants had gone from loose to uncomfortably tight in the span of that first kiss. I shifted on the stool, trying to find some kind of release, and the friction only made it worse. A wet spot bloomed on the navy fabric. I was hard and aching, and nothing had even happened yet.
Ares’s palm dragged over my inner thigh until his fingers brushed over the outline of my cock. My heart stuttered in my chest at the light contact, and a desperate sound escaped my throat. A smile curled his lips as his mouth brushed against mine briefly.
“Look at you… ready to go all over again,” he murmured, his voice low and impossibly sexy. He traced my length through the thin fabric, and his fingers followed the ridges of my dick from base to tip. The slight pressure he applied was just enough to make my breath hitch in my throat.
Owen’s teeth scraped against the sensitive spot just below my ear. My back arched into him as he bit down just enough to sting. While he held me there, Ares’s hand smoothed over my cock in long strokes. The sound I made was unrecognizable.
“Do you like it when Owen bites you, pretty boy?” Ares asked. His hand drifted up and away from my cock, despite the little way my hips shifted toward him for more. His fingers danced over my waistband but didn’t go any higher.
“Yes,” I rasped. Was it weird to want bite marks from Owen? Or was it weirder that I didn’t crave that same kind of thing from Ares? I repeated, “Yes.”
“Good,” Owen said when he released me, his chest rumbling against my back.
He smoothed his tongue over the bite mark, soothing the sting slightly.
The faint ache of his mark lingered, and I knew it’d be there for days.
That singular thought made my cock visibly twitch.
He leaned back and took hold of the hem of my shirt, lifting it slightly. “Arms up for me, Liam.”
I lifted without hesitation, and he dragged it up over my head.
The cool air in the kitchen hit my bare skin, sending a cascade of goosebumps across my arms and chest. Inching closer, Ares’s mouth found my nipple, and his tongue flicked out, tracing a teasing circle.
He closed his lips around it, sucking gently before dragging his teeth across the sensitive peak.
The light graze sent a jolt through me, and I moaned loudly.
My hand found the back of his head, and my fingers threaded through his hair as he repeated the attention on the other side.
As he did, his hand slipped inside my pants, shoving the waistband down enough to make access to my dick easier. He wrapped his hand around my length and stroked, milking a fresh bead of precum out of me with each pass. The pace he set was taunting and lazy, just enough to drive me crazy.
“Last request of the night, baby,” Owen whispered in my ear, his breath warm and making me shiver. “Tell us what you want. Anything is on the table.”
“It could be you on the table,” Ares teased.
Both stopped, their hands stilling on my body in a way that made my dick ache and my skin itch for more. Stopping was unbearable. My thoughts spun, trying to catch up with the rampant want that had been building inside me all night—the fantasy slowly becoming clearer.
I wanted them. Both of them. Not in turns, not trading off.
I wanted to feel both of them at the same time.
I wanted the feel of Owen’s thick cock stretching me wide while Ares slid in beside him.
I wanted the burn and euphoria of both their cocks at once.
I wanted to feel the impossible fullness of being split open by them.
I wanted to feel how my body yielded and accommodated them as they moved inside me.
“I want…” The words faded as I swallowed hard. It almost felt too filthy to admit out loud. Owen’s hands squeezed my shoulders for reassurance.
“What do you want, pretty boy?” Ares asked.
“I want both of you,” I whispered, my voice raw with desperation and need. “I want both of you… at the same time.”
There was a moment of silence as Owen’s palms rubbed down my upper arms, and Ares stared at me, that dark gaze peeling me apart layer by layer without ever saying a word.
“Are you asking for both of us to fill that perfect ass of yours until you can’t feel anything but our cocks?” He arched a brow curiously as he waited for me to give him an answer. I just nodded.
“Words, Liam,” Owen reminded me gently. “Use your voice like a good boy and tell us how much you want both of us inside you.”
“So much,” I let out. “I want you both inside me.”
Ares’s mouth landed on mine in a searing kiss, his tongue pushing past my lips. Owen’s hand slid around my throat and gave a light squeeze that ripped a groan from me. Before pulling away, Ares dragged his teeth over my lower lip hard enough to sting.
“Up,” Ares ordered and offered me a hand. “Let’s see just how pretty you look split open on our cocks.”