25. Knox
TWENTY-FIVE
KNOX
The house is dark when we come through the door. Fury doesn’t turn on a light. She takes my hand and pulls me toward the stairs, Holden and Milo behind us, Micah and Eli bringing up the rear.
She stops at the bottom step and turns around.
In the dark, with the streetlight coming through the window, she looks unforgettable. Flushed. Bright-eyed. Lips still swollen from the car.
“Boys. Upstairs,” she says.
It’s not a question.
Fury wants to play.
I take the stairs first. Her room is quiet, the bed made. I switch on the lamp—just enough light to see by.
She comes through the door and stops in the middle of the room, and she looks at all of us—five men filling the space and the air and the quiet—and I watch her shoulders drop, her chin coming up.
“I don’t want any of you telling me this is too soon,” she says. “It’s been five weeks. I’m healed. And tonight, I want this. I want all of you.”
“Anything you want, Fury.” I keep my voice low. “Tell us and it’s yours.”
“Why don’t you tell me?” she says, her eyes glinting as she meets my gaze.
“How?”
“Your way. I trust you.”
My dick strains against my zipper. She’s put the whole room in my hands.
“Well, Knoxie?” she coos, backing toward the bed. “What are you going to do with all of us?”
I look around the room. “Everybody into this?” I don’t take this kind of responsibility lightly. I never have.
A chorus of fuck yes answers me. Then I’m moving.
I hook two fingers in Fury’s scarf and tug her gently to me until she’s standing between my boots, looking up. Her pulse jumps in her throat. I slide the scarf free and toss it onto the dresser.
“Eli,” I say.
He goes still. “Yeah?”
“Chair. Against the wall. You watch. You don’t touch her, and you don’t touch yourself. Not until she says.”
He doesn’t argue. Just drags the chair over, sits, and plants his palms on his thighs like he’s already fighting the urge to move.
I turn to Fury. “Strip.”
She keeps her eyes on mine while she peels everything off, slow and deliberate. When she’s bare, the faint scar at her throat catches the light. I let myself look for half a second before I speak again.
“On the bed.”
She climbs up and lies back, thighs parting just enough to invite.
Good girl.
“Milo, left. Micah, right. Holden, between her legs.” I stay where I am, arms crossed. “Warm her up. I want her dripping before anyone fucks her.”
Milo’s already shoving his clothes off. He drops down beside her and mouths at her throat. “Hi, kitten.”
“Hi,” she breathes.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
“Milo,” I warn.
“Right. Less talking.” He grins against her skin but obeys, tongue dragging lower. Micah finishes undressing and settles on her other side, one hand cupping her breast while his mouth finds her shoulder. Holden strips and pushes her thighs wider, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one.
Fury makes a soft, broken sound.
I lean against the dresser and watch.
People think a man in my position is waiting his turn. Or that I’m a cuck who gets off on being cheated on.
They don’t understand a damn thing.
Holden licks a slow stripe up her cunt and she jerks, one hand flying to Milo’s hair.
“Fuck—Holden—”
“Patience,” he murmurs against her, then sucks her clit into his mouth like he’s got all night.
She whines, hips rolling. Micah’s thumb circles her nipple, pinching just enough to make her gasp. Milo’s mouth is busy at her throat, sucking a mark that’s going to show tomorrow.
This is my favorite part. Watching her come undone under the men I trust. Watching them take her apart piece by piece, and knowing that I’m the one who put them there. That every touch, every mouth, every sound she makes is happening because I said so.
Some men want to be the only one. I want to be the reason she falls apart, no matter who touches her.
“More,” she begs, voice already rough. “Please—”
Holden pushes two fingers into her and curls them. Her back bows off the bed.
I stay still, waiting until her eyes find mine through the haze.
“Make her come.”
Holden’s fingers fuck into her harder, thumb working tight circles over her clit. Milo bites down on the spot he just sucked and Micah takes her nipple between his teeth. Fury comes with a sharp, shocked cry, thighs shaking around Holden’s head.
They don’t stop touching her. Just ease her through it—soft licks, slower strokes, quiet praise.
“Milo?” I say, watching her closely.
“Oh Captain, My Captain?”
“Lick her clit.”
He grins, already sliding down her body. “With fucking pleasure.”
He settles between her thighs, spreads her open with both hands, and pauses like he’s admiring the view.
“Goddamn, kitten. Look at this pretty pussy.” His thumbs stroke her inner thighs. “I wanna Cookie Monster the fuck out of it.”
Fury lifts her head, half-laughing. “What—?”
“Nom nom nom nom—”
He drops his mouth to her and the sound he makes is obscene—wet, hungry, shameless. Micah bursts out laughing against her shoulder, even Holden’s mouth twitching where it’s pressed to Fury’s jaw.
She yelps, then moans, one hand fisting in his hair.
“Oh my God—Milo—”
“I know,” he says into her skin, muffled and smug. “Terrible branding. Incredible execution.”
“Milo!”
“Nomnomnomnom.”
His mouth is everywhere—open, messy, devouring.
Tongue flat, then pointed, then broad again, lapping at her like he’s trying to consume her whole.
His hands grip her thighs, holding them apart, and he doesn’t come up for air.
Just keeps noming against her clit, tongue working fast then slow, reading every twitch of her body.
Holden watches from beside her, his hand on her breast, his expression caught between aroused and bewildered. “Are you seriously pretending you’re Cookie Monster?”
“He is,” Fury gasps. “And it’s— oh God— it’s accurate—”
“Why am I turned on by this?” Micah asks, thoroughly amused.
Milo lifts his head just long enough to grin up at them. His mouth is wet. His chin is wet. He looks deranged and completely at peace with it. “C is for clit, Holden. And clit is good enough for me.”
Everyone laughs but Eli. He hasn’t moved since he sat down. Eight feet away and not one inch closer.
“I’m going to ask Micah to replace you if you don’t shut up and eat me out right now,” Fury grinds out, pushing his head back down. The threat dissolves into a moan when his tongue flattens against her again.
“Yes! Right there— Milo—” Fury’s hips buck against his face.
Holden moves up to kiss her, swallowing the noises Milo is pulling out of her. Micah’s hand slides down to help hold her open.
“Fuck—That’s—” she gasps into Holden’s mouth. “Oh God—”
“Make her come again,” I say.
Milo throws a thumbs-up without lifting his head and doubles down. Fury’s whole body locks up, then she’s coming harder than before, a raw, broken sound tearing out of her as she grinds against his face.
Milo works her through it, slow and filthy, then finally pulls back, mouth shiny. “Cookie Monster’s a happy boy.”
Fury giggles helplessly, tears on her face.
Micah’s thumb strokes her jaw, grounding her, while Holden murmurs, “Is it too much?” and she shakes her head.
“No. It’s perfect.”
Milo surfaces wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins up at her.
“Omnomnom.”
She huffs a tired laugh, poking her tongue out at him. “I hate you.”
“You came on my face, kitten. I think that means you love me.”
I push off the dresser and start stripping. Her eyes track every movement, darkening when my cock springs free. I give myself one slow stroke and watch her tongue drag across her bottom lip.
“Come here.”
She crawls to the edge of the bed. I catch her jaw, tilt her face up.
“I want you facing them,” I tell her, voice low. “I want them to watch me fuck you.”
Her breath hitches. She nods.
I settle back against the headboard. She climbs into my lap, back to my chest, and I spread her thighs wide over mine, putting everything on display. The others watch from the foot of the bed, hands already moving over their cocks.
Eli stays rigid in the chair, palms locked to his thighs.
I drag the head of my cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against me with a needy sound.
“Please, Knoxie,” she begs sweetly.
I guide myself into her. Slow. Inch by inch. Her head falls back against my shoulder and her mouth opens in a silent gasp. I grip her hips and work myself in and out, don’t stop until I’m fully seated, buried deep, her body stretched around me.
Eli lets out a groan from his chair. “Fuck me.”
“Not yet,” Fury gasps.
“Tell them how it feels,” I murmur against her ear.
“So fucking full,” she gasps. “God—Knox—”
I start to move—deep, rolling thrusts that let them see every inch of me disappearing into her. Her cunt grips me tight, wet and hot and perfect.
“Look at them,” I say, one hand wrapping lightly around her throat. “Look how hard they are for you. That’s all you, baby. You’re making them fucking desperate.”
She moans, eyes locked on the three of them stroking themselves while they watch.
“You like that?” I thrust up harder. “Like them watching my cock stretch this pretty cunt?”
“Yes—fuck—yes—”
From the chair, Eli makes a low, pained sound. His hands are clenched so tight on his thighs the knuckles are white.
Fury’s gaze flicks to him, then to Micah—the way they keep looking at each other. Her hips stutter against me. She makes a keening sound that almost makes me unload. My thumb strokes the scar at her throat.
I nip at her earlobe. “Tell them what you want.”
“Micah . . . kiss him,” she says.
Micah moves first. He crosses to Eli, takes his face in both hands, and kisses him deep. Eli makes a broken noise, pulling him closer.
Fury clenches around me so hard I have to grit my teeth.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” she breathes. “Eli—on your knees for him. Now.”
Eli drops without hesitation. Micah’s hand slides into his hair as Eli takes him into his mouth, cheeks hollowing. The wet sound of it mixes with Fury’s gasps as I keep fucking her.