"My turn," he says, and it's not a demand anymore. It's almost vulnerable. "Come here, baby. Please."
I crawl to him. He's wheeled himself closer to the couch, positioned so he can reach me easily. I fit myself between his spread knees, hands running up his thighs.
"I love you," I tell him, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "You know that, right?"
"I know," he breathes, threading his fingers through my hair. "I love you too. Now show me."
I lean in and take him in one smooth, deep glide. He's thick and familiar, and I take him all the way down until my nose is buried against him, swallowing around him.
"Jesus Christ," he chokes out, his hands tightening in my hair. "Val—fuck?—"
I pull back, gasping for air, then dive down again. Set a relentless pace because I know what he likes, know what makes him come apart. Use my tongue, my lips, the suction of my cheeks. Pour everything I'm feeling into this—the love, the gratitude, the desperate need to show him this is real.
His hips begin to piston upward, meeting my movements. "So good... perfect... god, your mouth..."
I can taste him changing, feel the way his balls draw up tight against my chin. I redouble my efforts, humming around him, one hand coming up to cradle and gently squeeze him.
"Gonna come," he warns, voice strangled. "Baby, I'm?—"
I don't pull away. Take him deeper instead, urging him on with my throat, my tongue, everything. The first hot pulse hits the back of my throat and I swallow, again and again, taking everything he gives me until he's spent and shuddering above me.
I release him slowly, licking him clean as I pull back, making sure not to miss a drop. My jaw aches in the best way, my lips swollen and sensitive.
I sit back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Look around at all three of them—Zay still on the floor where I left him, looking dazed and satisfied. Asher slumped in his chair, chest heaving. Xavier collapsed back in his wheelchair, looking at me like I'm something miraculous.
"Convinced yet?" I ask, voice rough and used.
"Fuck yes," Xavier breathes.
"Absolutely," Zay agrees.
Asher just nods, something that looks like respect in his eyes alongside the lingering heat.
"Good," I say, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me shaky and overwhelmed. "Because I meant what I said. I can take care of all three of you. I want to. But you have to let me. You have to trust that I'm choosing this. Choosing all of you."
"We trust you," Xavier says quietly. Then, with a slight smile: "Though we might need more proof. You know. For science."
I laugh despite everything, the sound shaky but genuine. "Give me like ten minutes to recover first."
"Take your time, baby." He reaches for me, pulls me up into his lap despite the awkwardness of the wheelchair. I settle against him carefully, mindful of his injuries. His arms come around me, solid and sure. "We've got all day."
Zay stands, comes over to press a kiss to my shoulder. "You're incredible. You know that?"
"I'm trying," I admit quietly.
Asher hasn't moved from his chair, but when I look at him, there's something different in his expression. The wall between us isn't gone completely—but it's cracked. Damaged. Maybe repairable.
"Thank you," I tell him. "For... for not pushing me away."
"Couldn't if I wanted to," he replies honestly. "Not anymore."
The admission makes my throat tight.
We stay like that for a while—me in Xavier's lap, Zay's hand on my back, Asher watching from his chair. The morninglight streams through the windows, illuminating the mess we've made of the kitchen. Evidence of what we've done scattered everywhere.
It should feel wrong. Dirty. Shameful.
Instead it feels like the most honest thing I've done in weeks.