44. Calliope
Calliope
Theo moves the same pillow for the fifth time while Idris feeds me another slice of peach.
He takes it from the bowl balanced beside his thigh and holds it against my mouth until I open.
Juice catches at the corner of my lips, and Idris wipes it away with his thumb before pressing the pad of it between my lips.
His other arm remains firm around my waist, keeping my back fitted to his chest while Theo studies the section of the nest he has already rebuilt twice this afternoon.
The room is warm from the late sun and the bodies gathered beneath the blankets.
Theo has opened the window three inches because his skin feels too hot, then covered himself in one of Sloane’s sweatshirts because the air across his shoulders felt wrong.
His scent has deepened with every hour, cardamom and peach blossom gathering around the temporary bite at his shoulder, but he is still smiling when he turns the pillow and pushes it against the headboard.
“It was better where it was,” I tell him.
Theo looks over his shoulder at me, his hair falling across one eye. “You said it was too high.”
“That was three arrangements ago.”
He considers the pillow again, then leaves it exactly where it is and crawls across the nest to take a piece of peach from Idris' fingers. Idris lets him have it without protest, though his hand returns to the bowl immediately and selects another for me.
Theo settles on his stomach near my legs, his chin resting on one folded arm. He watches Idris bring the fruit to my mouth, then reaches over to straighten the blanket covering my knee even though nothing is wrong with it.
“Sloane said he would be home by six,” I say after swallowing. “Dash’s meeting should finish before then.”
Idris' mouth brushes the side of my neck. “They both told you where they were going, when they expected to return, and how to reach them.”
The satisfaction beneath his words warms me as much as the kiss.
Sloane had crouched beside the bed before leaving to meet Kade, told me which office they were using, and made me repeat the time back to him because he wanted to know I had heard.
Dash had kissed my forehead on his way to campus and left his schedule on the kitchen counter even though his department meeting was supposed to take less than an hour.
“I noticed,” I say, letting my head rest against Idris' shoulder. “Sloane told me so many details that I know which entrance he used.”
“He is trying to make ambiguity impossible.” Idris offers me another piece of fruit, and his fingers linger against my lower lip when I take it. “Subtlety has never been his preferred method.”
Theo smiles into his arm. The expression is quiet and fond, and I reach down to comb my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
“What happens when we go back?” he asks.
The question is soft enough that I almost miss it. Idris' hand stills against the bowl, and Theo keeps his eyes on the blanket while his fingers work at a loose thread near my ankle.
“Back where?” I ask, although I think I understand.
“The house.” Theo pulls the thread once before letting it go. “The old one.”
Idris sets the bowl aside. His arm tightens around me without dragging me closer, and I feel the change in him through every point of contact between us.
“We don't have to go back there,” he says. “Some of our things are still inside, but none of us need to live there again.”
Theo looks toward the window. “The attic nest is there.”
“We can bring anything you want from it,” I tell him. “The blankets, the lamp, the books you hid behind the loose board. We can rebuild it somewhere else.”
His eyes lift to mine. “Here?”
The question carries more than the attic. I hear it in the way his voice catches around the single word and see it in the hand he presses into the nest beneath him.
“If Dash wants us here,” I say. “We have not asked him what he wants permanently.”
Idris' palm moves slowly over my stomach beneath my sweater. “Dash has spent the last week converting his office into a security room and adding storage to every bedroom. I suspect his answer will not surprise you.”
A smile pulls at my mouth. I picture Dash standing in the hall with a measuring tape, insisting the new shelves are a practical improvement rather than evidence that four people have already taken over his home.
Theo pushes himself onto his knees. “We need a larger nest.”
“We need a larger bed,” I say.
“We need both.” He looks around the pillows with renewed purpose, already measuring the room with his eyes. “The wall can move.”
“I don't believe Dash will let you remove a wall without a conversation.”
Theo crawls closer and folds himself across my legs. His cheek presses to my thigh, and his fingers slip beneath the hem of my sweater as though contact will make his plans more convincing.
Idris picks up the bowl again, but his attention has shifted. His hand slides from my stomach to my hip and rests there while he feeds me another peach slice. The touch is familiar enough that I relax into it before I realize his thumb has begun tracing the line beneath the waistband of my skirt.
Theo notices before I look down. His gaze follows Idris' hand, dark eyes soft and intent, while the sweetness of his scent thickens around us.
Idris kisses beneath my ear. “Tell me when you want me to stop.”
The words settle through me with the controlled weight I have missed. They don't close anything inside me or push me toward obedience before I can decide. They give the next choice to me and wait.
“I don't want you to stop,” I say.
His fingers move beneath the waistband and spread across the bare skin of my lower stomach. My breath catches, and Idris' mouth curves against my neck before he presses a slower kiss to the same place.
Theo remains stretched across my legs, watching. The temporary bite at his shoulder is flushed beneath the loose collar of Sloane’s sweatshirt, and his breathing has grown shallow enough that I can see each rise of his back.
Idris feeds me another piece of peach while his hand travels lower.
The contrast makes heat gather through me, sweet juice on my tongue and the firm pressure of his fingers moving beneath my clothes.
I turn my face toward him, and he meets me halfway, taking my mouth in a kiss that starts slow and deepens when I lean back into his chest.
The bowl disappears from his hand. I hear it settle somewhere beyond the blankets before both his arms close around me, one hand returning to my stomach while the other cups my jaw.
Theo moves closer.
His fingers brush my calf, then slide upward beneath my skirt. He stops at my knee and looks at Idris rather than assuming the touch can continue.
Idris lifts his mouth from mine. “Ask her.”
Theo’s eyes come to my face. His cheeks are flushed, and the heat in his scent has sharpened enough to make my pulse jump.
“Can I touch you?” he asks.
“Yes, Star.”
His hand travels higher along my thigh. Idris kisses me again while Theo explores the softness beneath my skirt, his movements careful at first and then less steady as his body begins answering the scents filling the nest.
I twist enough to reach for him. My fingers catch in the front of Sloane’s sweatshirt, and Theo comes willingly, pressing his mouth to mine while Idris' hand continues moving over my body.
Theo tastes like peach. His kiss is warm and hungry, and the sound he makes when I open for him vibrates through both of us. Idris' mouth moves to my neck while Theo climbs farther into my lap, the three of us shifting until the blankets bunch around our legs.
Idris gathers me back against his chest and slides one hand beneath my sweater until his palm spreads over my stomach. “You can stop this whenever you need,” Idris says near my ear. “You can change your mind at any point, princess.”
I turn my face enough to kiss the edge of his jaw. “I know.”
Theo shifts behind me, his body fitting along my back. His skin is hot, and the bite at his shoulder pulses beneath my fingers when I reach behind to touch him. He kisses the unmarked side of my neck and moves against me, restless pressure building as Idris keeps me held between them.
Theo’s hands travel over my waist and breasts while his hips begin thrusting against my lower back.
There is no penetration between us, only the hard line of him sliding against my skin while his breathing breaks near my ear.
I reach back to hold his thigh, keeping him close as his rhythm loses what little control it had.
Idris watches him over my shoulder. One hand remains on me while the other reaches past to grip Theo’s hip, guiding without taking the movement away from him.
Theo falls apart with his face pressed against my shoulder. His body shudders along mine, and I hold him through it while Idris murmurs against his temple. The release eases one edge of his spike, but the ache in his scent remains, thick and searching as he curls around my back.
Idris keeps me facing him as he finishes undressing me. He draws my sweater up and over my head only after I lift my arms for him, then sets it aside instead of letting it fall into the nest. My bra follows the same careful way. He pauses with his hands at the waistband of my skirt.
“You can tell me to stop,” he says, voice low and even. “At any point. You can pause. You can change your mind. Nothing continues unless you want it.”
“I want it,” I answer. “Keep going.”
He eases the skirt and underwear down together.
When I am bare he lifts me astride his lap so I am facing him fully, knees on either side of his hips.
Theo immediately molds himself along my back again, bare chest to my spine, mouth finding the unmarked side of my neck.
His cock rests hard against the small of my back; he does not push for more yet, only stays pressed close, breathing me in.