And then Chou seemed to lose his mind.
“Sir! Kitten. Oh god.” Chou moaned, his thrusts becoming uneven, out of rhythm.
“You like that boy?” He knew M’sieur meant Neil this time, he was starting to hear the difference in tone, in the way Isaac spoke to each of them.
“Yes, Sir. Yes…”
He wasn’t sure what M’sieur was doing to Chou, but he could guess, and he focused on what he was feeling.
He wanted to find M’sieur’s rhythm, move in counterpoint to him, and make Chou scream.
“Good boy. We’ve got you, Alain and I.” M’sieur spoke and suddenly he found it, the rhythm he was looking for.
He heard Chou’s gasp, the sound of his name, and it fed his soul like andouille.
“Good boy.” And that was even better, thick cream in rich coffee.
The room filled with the music of what they were doing—moans and soft words, needy cursing. Chou curled an arm around his middle and held on and soon his Master was trembling, hot breath washing over his shoulders.
“So fucking hot, Kitten. All around my prick.” Sharp teeth teased his shoulder, and his entire body tightened.
M’sieur groaned, and a weight overpowered them both. Chou cried out, and that hard cock sank even deeper, as they were both pinned for a moment as Sir took what he needed, giving them everything in return.
Chou’s breath poured over his neck, and he braced himself. This was more than he’d ever imagined—two men atop him, wanting him, loving on him as he loved them.
Chou was so close he was shaking, arching back toward Sir just to be driven back down again. Alain clenched around him, and a second later Neil shouted, hips jerking as he shot.
That made M’sieur wild, and he tugged on Neil’s hips, thrusting hard until he also came with a grunt and a long, low sigh.
All of them slumped together, and he may have groaned, all his breath pushing out of him. After a moment of just breathing together, there was some shifting and he thought he might have been alone in the big bed for a bit, but by the time he found the energy to open his eyes, his Sirs were both climbing back in with him.
Chou settled facing him, and M’sieur was at his back, both keeping him warm and safe.
This was real.
“Thank y’all. So much,” he muttered, and Chou kissed him, making his eyes cross.
“Get some rest, boys. You earned it.” M’sieur sounded ready to take that advice too.
“Thank you, Sir,” Chou whispered, reaching across him to tangle fingers with Isaac.
All he had to do was reach down himself, and there they were, altogether. The three of them.
Damn, it was fine.
12
Neil was liking this whole vacation thing—sleeping in, naps, orgasms, and now Alain was making beignets.
Life was basically good.
He stretched out on the sofa, one leg on the back of the it, the other on the floor, feeling about as decadent as they came. He was mostly naked, totally satisfied, and happy as a pig in shit.
“Hey, Smokey. You look comfy.” Isaac made his way over wearing sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, hair wet from a shower. Isaac sat with him, right in the V that his legs made, one shower-warmed hand resting on his abs.
“I am being a lazy fucker, and it is a glorious thing.” He let his six-pack roll, bumping against Isaac’s hand.
“Good.” Isaac reached up and touched the spot on his cheek where the bullet had grazed him. “So… I want to talk about this. Before you go back to work.”