Dom pulls me into his arms, his lips claiming mine in a possessive kiss. I moan against his mouth, desire igniting my veins as his hands roam greedily over my body.
When we break apart, I'm breathless and trembling. Dom grins down at me, his eyes glowing with lust. "On your knees," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I drop to my knees without hesitation, gazing up at him through lowered lashes. Dom strokes my hair in approval, guiding my mouth to his throbbing cock. I take him in eagerly, relishing his strangled groan of pleasure.
As I pleasure Dom, I feel a pair of hands grip my hips from behind. I gasp around Dom's length as Zeke enters me in one smooth thrust, filling me to the brim.
I cry out in ecstasy, writhing between them as they establish a punishing rhythm. Dom's hands tighten in my hair, forcing me to take him deeper. I moan wantonly, arousal burning through my veins as I surrender to their primal rhythm.
Rake crouches before me, guiding my hand to his aching cock. I stroke him eagerly, desperate to give him pleasure as my lovers plunge into me from both ends.
When Dom spills down my throat with a guttural groan, I swallow greedily, craving every last drop of his release. Zeke quickens his pace, his fingers digging into my hips as he hurtles towards his climax.
With a strangled cry, Zeke erupts inside me, his warmth flooding my core. The feeling sends me tumbling over the edge, my vision going white as pleasure overwhelms my senses.
I collapse against Zeke, spent and trembling in the aftermath of my climax. Strong arms lift me against a firm chest, cradling me close. I nuzzle into the comfort offered, a contented sigh escaping my lips as the cool mist caresses my heated skin.
My lovers join us, their arms encircling me in a cocoon of warmth and affection. I smile, basking in the intimacy of our embrace and the profound joy that fills my heart.
Here, surrounded by the men who have captured my heart and given me reason, I have found my place in this world.
Here, in their loving arms—and regardless of the danger we're about to face—I am home.
Chapter forty-four
The smell of sizzling bacon fills my nostrils as I flip the pancakes on the stove. Brick and Angel are parked on the barstools behind me, and Angel has had an extra coffee and is chattering away like a fucking magpie. Brick is glued to his computer, half-listening to Angel while tapping at his keyboard.
"What are you doing, Brick?" Angel asks. Her voice is like a melody, even this early in the damn morning.
"Reading about polycules," he replies, not even looking up from his laptop screen. Fucking weirdo's always got his nose buried in some new research obsession.
I glance over my shoulder, eyebrow raised. "What the hell is a polycule?"
Brick's face lights up like he's just discovered plutonium. "It stands for polyamorous molecule!" He's grinning from ear to ear. Jesus, he looks deranged when he's this excited. Of course he would find the most ridiculous-sounding term in the English dictionary and apply it to us.
I shake my head and turn back to the sizzling pans. Fucking polycules. Just another one of Brick's harebrained schemes to organize our twisted little family unit. That psycho probably already has the tattoo sketches done for each of us. Like one of those stickers people get for their cars where it shows the parents and each of the children. Sometimes the dog. Except in our case it'd be four tattooed rectangles and one hot female with bright purple hair and nipple piercings.
The pancakes are a perfect golden brown. I slide them onto a platter just as the coffee maker beeps. The rich aroma mingles with the bacon.
Brick is still rambling about relationship diagrams or some shit. I tune him out and focus on the food. This is my love language, and I think everyone in the house knows that.
I plate the pancakes, eggs, and bacon, then set them down on the counter with a satisfying thunk. Brick and Angel dig in eagerly, Brick of course opting out of the bacon and the eggs. Nothing more satisfying than watching people enjoy my cooking, even if they're vegan.
Except maybe listening to the screams coming from Brick's basement. But that's a different kind of satisfaction.
Brick shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, talking around the food in his usual charming way.
"But you know what this means?" He's practically vibrating with excitement. "We get to make one of those relationship map things, with all the lines connecting us!"
I roll my eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't detach. "Yeah, I don't think so. The only lines I want connecting us are handcuffs and whips."
Angel giggles at that, the sound light and musical. God, I love this woman. She appreciates my special brand of humor.
Brick is undeterred, already sketching something on a napkin. "It'll be so cool, though! I can draw Angel's nipple rings and everything."
Of course. Any excuse for him to draw Angel's pierced nipples. Called it. The things that turn this guy on never cease to disturb me… I mean, her nipple piercings turn me on as well, but I don't feel the need to draw them. Although, maybe if I arrange the pancakes just so…
"Eat your breakfast," I growl. "No relationship diagrams at the table. We'll make sure the nipple piercings are still there later."