“You want more?” His question is quiet, but it vibrates through me like thunder.
All I can do is nod, the sound that leaves me closer to a plea than a word. His answering growl is low and dangerous, full of promise.
“Then take it,” he whispers, pressing one last kiss to my lips, before replacing them with his long hard cock.
The world tilts as he slides to the back of my throat on the first glide, everything else disappearing but them. There’s nothing gentle about their claim, only need and possession and the dizzying realization that somewhere along the way, I stopped being afraid of the dark—and started craving it.
The air between us grows dense with warmth and quiet breaths, skin and heartbeat falling into a shared rhythm that feels almost reverent. Every thrust draws a whimper from me, every touch striking a spark that flares deep inside and refuses to fade.
Ronan’s grip firms at my hips, powerful yet measured, holding me steady. The force of his next thrust tips my world,stealing the breath straight from my lungs as a raw sound tears free from my throat. The rhythm between us turns relentless—untamed, consuming—until my body quivers, struggling to keep pace with the intensity they’re drawing out of me.
Rowan murmurs low and hoarse against my shoulder, “That’s it, Berk. You’re taking our cocks so well, baby. So tight and wet…fuck!”
The sound of wetness as they use me should be embarrassing, but the ecstasy they’re wringing from my body evaporates all other thoughts.
Emerson’s hand slides around the back of my neck, grounding me as everything spirals. His control is steady, but his voice is a low growl that vibrates against my skin. “Breathe, Berk,” he tells me, his tone both command and comfort. I cling to him, fingers gripping his thigh.
Ronan grips my hip, thrusting forward again, and brings his hand down in a sharp slap against my ass. The sudden sting has me tightening around the twins and moaning against Em, pushing me over the edge once more and drawing deep, guttural groans from all of my guys.
Rowan and Ronan fall into a shared cadence, their movements colliding and accelerating as they chase the same breaking point. Rowan is the first to falter, a rough groan tearing from him as his rhythm stutters and he spills that heat deep inside me. Ronan follows close behind, his hand landing against my ass in a sharp, claiming strike that makes me clench around him as his own release rips free, the force of it leaving them breathless and undone.
Em grips the back of my neck, holding himself deep within my throat until Ronan eases free. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he pulls from my mouth and lifts me off Rowan’s cock as well, his voice rough and commanding. “Up we go, baby.”
He kneels beside the twins, who have slumped to the side, their heavy eyes fixed on us. Em’s knees spread wide as he balances me easily, guiding my legs around his waist. My fingers tighten in his hair as his hands clutch my ass, driving into me again and again. Within moments, I’m teetering on the edge, tripping, falling, and muffling my scream by biting his neck. His palm comes down hard on my sensitive cheek, making me tense around him and sending him spiraling over the edge with me.
Our breathing slows, tangled together in the hush that follows the storm. The room is heavy with heat and the scent of sex, but beneath it all there’s a calm that settles deep in my chest. Em cradles me against his chest with reverence, slowly softening inside me. Rowan’s hand drifts along my side, his touch lazy and tender, while Ronan’s hand grips my calf, anchoring me in place. Emerson’s chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, each breath steady and grounding.
“Berk,” Rowan murmurs, his voice rough and thick with exhaustion. “You okay?”
My voice barely breaks the quiet. “More than okay,” I whisper, the words slipping out on a breath. It’s the truth. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel whole—spent, yes, but safe.
A soft laugh passes between them, a low, satisfied rumble that settles deep beneath my skin. The tension that’s always lived between us eases, giving way to something gentler—delicate, earned, and unmistakably real.
Emerson eases free and guides me down beside Rowan before slipping off the mattress. He returns a moment later with a warm cloth, the gentle touch making me inhale sharply as he cleans the traces of what we shared from my skin. When he’s done, he drops the cloth into the bin and climbs back into bed without a word.
Ronan pulls the blankets up, tucking them snug around us until the warmth settles in deep. I’m surrounded by the quiet steadiness of them—heartbeats strong and sure, breaths falling into an easy rhythm that draws me toward sleep. Rowan’s pulse beats beneath my palm, solid and grounding. Ronan’s chest rises and falls at my back, his warmth a constant anchor. Emerson’s thumb traces slow, absent circles along my wrist, a silent reassurance that I’m held, that I belong, and that I’m not alone.
My eyes grow heavy, the edges of the world softening. Sleep pulls at me, gentle but certain, like the tide reclaiming the shore. I stop fighting it.
For once, I let myself drift—into the dark, into the quiet, into them.
When I wake, the light is soft and golden, spilling through the cracks in the curtains. The room smells of sex and warmth and something that still feels like us. For a moment, I don’t move. I just listen—to the slow, steady breaths, the faint creak of the mattress as someone shifts, the quiet hum of morning settling in.
Rowan stirs first, his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer until my front flushes with his chest. His lips brush the curve of my shoulder in a sleepy kiss that makes my heart ache in the sweetest way. “Morning, baby,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep.
I smile against the pillow, too content to open my eyes just yet. “Morning,” I whisper back.
Behind me, Ronan’s voice joins in, deeper, softer. “You look too damn peaceful for me to move.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his breath warm against my hair. “How do you feel?”
“Like I could sleep for another day,” I murmur, half-laughing. My voice is still rough from the night before, but the sound makes them both smile.
Emerson shifts on the other side of Rowan, stretching long and slow before his hand slides across my hip overtop of Ronan, fingers tracing lazy circles. “You should,” he says quietly. “You earned it.” He leans over, his lips brush the corner of my mouth, just enough to make my pulse stutter.
“I love you,” I whisper before I can stop myself. The words come out soft but sure, carried on the warmth that fills my chest.
Rowan hums against my skin. “Say it again,” he murmurs, eyes still closed.
“I love you,” I repeat, a little louder this time.