Page 46

HARRISON

The air is still warm; the fire pit is enough to stop the slight breeze from chilling our skin.

The atmosphere is thick with intention as we gather around Grace, her party done, her eyes still shining with tears.

It breaks my heart, especially on her birthday.

I know the song says you can cry if you want to, but I like to think that birthdays should be about laughter. And if not laughter, maybe orgasms.

Now the kids are inside, the real celebrations can begin. Maybe this is the way we lift Grace from whatever brought about her dark spiral. Above us, the moon is merely a slice of white in a navy sky, a sly smile that I wish Grace would feel happy enough to mirror.

Grace snuggles into Conway’s chest, and he wraps his arm around her, kissing her forehead. Maybe it’s how she runs her hand up his side that reveals that she’s seeking more than comfort. Or maybe it’s the soft sigh she makes when Jaxon lifts her hair to kiss her nape.

We’ve all been with Grace in varying numbers between one and four, except Brody, who lurks at the outside of the group, still standing, hands folded over his chest.

But never as a group as large as this.

So many huge cowboys gathered around one woman are a sight to behold. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d say this was a fool’s errand, except the Jackson Ranch has ten cowboys to one woman, and they’re still sitting pretty after a few years and a few babies.

When Conway tips Grace’s chin, and she leans into his kiss, letting his hand slide up her shirt and over the smooth skin of her ribs, she moans, and that’s the sound that changes everything.

Time seems to stand still as we crowd in closer.

Jaxon’s hand runs from her calf to the outside of her thigh, smoothing the fabric of her jeans until he palms her ass.

Nash eases one boot, then the other, from her feet, peeling away the socks next.

It’s ridiculous to feel aroused by the sight of her tiny feet, nails painted as red as her lips, but I do.

And knowing there’s so much more to be revealed has my cock stiffening behind the zipper of my jeans.

Conway unbuttons her shirt and pulls her into his arms so her back rests against his chest and her arms are hooked tightly in the material.

He whispers something into her ear, which makes her shiver, and her nipples tighten beneath her tank.

“Take off her jeans,” Conway orders Jaxon.

Jay responds quickly, unbuttoning and unzipping, then easing the denim over Grace’s shapely legs until she’s left in black cotton panties.

“And her underwear,” Conway says.

Jaxon seems to seek reassurance from Grace that she wants this, and she nods, her lips parting on a swift inhale as he bares her to the rest of us under the stars.

Nine sets of eyes focus on the brown curls at the apex of her thighs and the miles of smooth skin that leads to the tightest, sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. Conway’s hands cup the insides of her thighs, and he parts them, using his thumbs to spread her labia.

“See these men,” he says, in his gruffest, growliest voice. “ You understand what seeing you like this does to them? What they want to do for you, Gracie? How they want to serve you?”

She shakes her head, blinking slowly like she’s drunk too much punch.

“They want to worship at your altar, darlin’. Show you all the ways they can make you scream. There isn’t another person around for miles who can hear you cry out or see you spread out like a feast for us.”

Grace whimpers, her hands still tight at her sides, immobile, as Jaxon dips his head to flick his tongue over her clit.

She’s so aroused that one simple touch is enough to make her buck off the blanket, her legs fighting against Conway’s grip to snap together.

She’s no match for a hardened cowboy like Conway, though, and Jaxon isn’t giving up his place between her legs that quickly.

“Sshhh,” Conway whispers. “It’s okay. Jaxon’s going to make it all better.”

I lean closer, watching, fascinated, as Jaxon’s fingers slip inside Grace and his tongue swipes through her folds over and over, working his magic, making her moan.

When she starts to come, Jaxon groans, lapping at her wetness, his nose nuzzling her clit.

Conway pulls her closer, murmuring reassurances, his fingers rubbing small circles over her ribs and across her breasts.

“That’s it, darlin’. You did so good.”

I move forward, my cock straining at my jeans. Grace’s pretty hazel eyes meet mine, heavy-lidded and a little bleary. “Harrison,” she whispers, her hands flexing like she wants to reach for me.

“It’s okay, princess,” I say, taking Jaxon’s place between her slack legs. “We’re going to take such good care of you. Give you your birthday orgasms, one after another.”

She whimpers as I run my index finger around her swollen clit, teasing but never quite touching. Jaxon leans in to kiss her mouth, stealing her focus for a second, until I fill her with two beckoning fingers, and her whole body stiffens.

That’s it, Gracie. I’ve got you.

I palm my cock through my jeans, but it’s awkward, so I unzip and pull it out, dazed as I imagine sliding it into her tight, wet heat. She’s already slick enough to take me to the hilt in one measured thrust. Maybe an unmeasured one. My usual cool control is slipping as I lean in to lick her.

Jesus, she smells good. Sweet, musky, and familiar, like returning home.

I feel a hand on the back of my head and find Conway holding me where he wants me, guiding me to the task.

“That’s good, Harrison,” Conway praises. “Make her ready, then you can take her.”

I raise my head, lips slick, surprised that he wouldn’t want to take that privilege for himself.”

“Come on, now,” Conway urges. “Don’t leave her hangin’.”

“You ready for me?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says.

Edging forward, I push my knees beneath her thighs and run the head of my dick between her pretty pussy lips, notching at her entrance.

Her lips part, and she looks up at Conway, then back at me, totally sandwiched between us.

He’s still holding her legs apart, still a part of what we’re doing here, keeping her grounded, maybe.

I get why he feels it’s necessary in the face of the overwhelming number of men watching everything and waiting for their turn, and Grace’s tender emotions.

I slide my hands over the outside of her thighs and lean in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “Gracie,” I whisper as I slide inside her, groaning at how tight she is around me.

“Harrison,” she whispers back as I begin to move.

McCartney kneels next to Grace, lifting her hair and pressing a kiss against her lips.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

She smiles up at him, nodding. “Yes,” she whispers .

“Good girl,” Conway praises. “You’re taking Harrison so well.”

And she is. She really is. I get lost in the tight heat of her pussy, lost in the glazed look in her eyes when McCartney rucks up her tank, pushes up her bra, and sucks her nipple.

Flames lick up my spine when Nash latches onto the other breast, and Grace has to close her eyes from the pleasure.

Cody licks his finger and begins to circle her clit while I keep a slow, steady rhythm, wanting to last. Five men play with her body, teasing her higher and higher while four others watch.

“That’s it, Grace,” Dylan says. “You’re doing so well, taking so much.”

“Come, Gracie,” Jaxon murmurs. “Let us hear you come.”

“Fuck,” I growl as her body seizes and her back arches, pussy clamping down like a vice. McCartney kisses the orgasm from her lips, her body convulsing around mine and I spill inside her, writing a promise as deep as I can.

I’m yours, my body tells her. And you’re mine. And before the night is done, all my brothers and cousins will claim you, too.

I rest back on my haunches, stroking my dick until the last of my cum coats her labia, staring at our shared arousal leaking from inside her. I’m man number one. What’s she going to look like when man number eleven has filled her up?

A sticky, creamy, perfect mess.

I move aside, and Jaxon settles himself between Grace’s thighs, taking his time to slide inside her. The look on his face is one of pure bliss, and he takes a deep breath before looking at Conway.

“Okay, son,” Conway says. “Give her a good time.”

He rocks against her, slow and easy, his mouth on hers, her body pinned down by his, and then he moves faster, and her cries rise with him, her voice breaking.

Cody and Dylan stroke themselves through their pants, their gazes locked on the scene .

The second climax is louder, stronger, and Grace is panting, her hair fanned out, her skin glistening with sweat.

I don’t know where Nash finds the courage to push his cousin aside and sink into the same pussy he’s filled, but he does. His thrusts are harder and more demanding, and Grace’s eyes open, her fingers digging into the blanket beneath her.

Jaxon, his cock still slick, leans forward and kisses her deeply, his fingers rolling her nipple, and I watch as her moans are swallowed by him, and Nash’s body undulates into her.

“Shit,” Nash hisses, spilling into her, his face contorted, his whole body taut.

Grace lies in the middle of the blanket, her limbs loose and her hair wild.

Her breathing is ragged, and her smile is wide.

Conway eases out from beneath her, removing her shirt, tank, and bra until she’s as naked as the day she was born.

He rolls her over and tugs her hips with demanding strength until she’s on her hands and knees, hair wild around her face and shoulders.

Propped on one muscular forearm, he presses a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“You’ve taken three men already. Let me make it five.

Dylan,” He tips his head to encourage his brother to approach.

In sync, they both unfasten their belts, pulling leather through loops with matching thwacks.

Jeans are unfastened and cocks removed, then Conway kneels behind Grace, curving his body over hers.

He wraps his hand around her throat possessively.

“It’s time, Gracie. Time for us to claim you.

To show you what your life could be like if you stay with us and commit to becoming our woman.

There will never be a time when you have to worry about us letting you down, or forgetting your needs.

You’ll be at the center of our world, always.

Just like you are now. Do you understand me? ”

She nods, her eyelids heavy as he pushes inside her messy pussy, tipping her chin for his younger brother.

Dylan strokes Grace’s cheek, then coats her lips with his precum.

“ God help me, I want to claim this pretty mouth all for myself,” he says as she parts her lips and lets him rest the head of his cock against the flat of her tongue.

When he slides deeper, her red lips encircle his length, and his eyes roll at perfection.

Conway’s body is draped over Grace’s like a weighted blanket; all heat and muscle and grounding safety. She’s stretched, glistening, swollen—and somehow still ready for more.

Conway eases forward, thrusting inside her, slow and deliberate. Her mouth parts in a silent gasp. Her fingers twitch like she’s searching for something—someone—and Jaxon, still kneeling close, threads his hand through hers, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Easy,” he whispers. “You’ve got this.”

I watch Conway fill her, inch by inch, his face taut with restraint. He’s big, but her body yields with such sweet, willing tension that my own cock twitches, already aching to be inside her again.

“Jesus,” Conway mutters. “You feel like heaven, baby. So warm… still so damn wet from the others.”

He pounds into her, over and over, as Dylan cants his hips, pushing his thick cock between her puffy lips, holding her gaze hostage with his intensity.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, “you still with us?”

She nods, and Dylan pulls out long enough for her to say, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right,” Conway says, fucking deeper. Grace’s legs twitch. She’s trembling from exertion or anticipation, I can’t tell, but I know her well enough now to recognize that dazed expression, the one she makes after the breaking point, the one that means she’s surrendered but still wants more.

Her body lifts toward him, aching for connection, her thighs parting wider in open invitation, slick with the combined evidence of every man she’s welcomed inside.

He growls softly. Low and reverent. “That’s my good girl. So sweet… so perfect… give your body over to us all.”

Grace moans, a soft, keening sound that slices right through my chest. Her hands cling tighter to Jaxon’s and McCartney’s, and I move to her other side, brushing her damp hair back from her face.

Conway presses into her , rocking deeper with each stroke, using her gasps and moans as his rhythm.

Every man watches. Some stroke themselves through denim while others memorize the way she takes them both, in awe of the flush in her cheeks, the way her breasts bounce with each thrust, and the pure saturation of her body as it accepts all of him and all of Dylan.

McCartney dips his head to suck her nipple again, tongue swirling, and Nash mirrors him on the other side. Jaxon strokes her clit gently, fingers teasing, and Grace whimpers—half-lost, totally overwhelmed.

“Come for me again,” Conway growls, voice sharp with command. “Let me feel you milk me like you did them.”

She shakes in response, thighs clenching around him, hands tightening.

And then, like she needed his voice, she does .

Her body bows, her back arching, a scream rising from deep in her throat as she comes again around her fourth cowboy of the night.

Conway pulls out to watch her stretched pussy hole fluttering and leaking, then he slams deep one last time and holds there, still and thick inside her.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he gasps. “Gonna leave you dripping with all of us.”

She groans, and Dylan clutches her face as he comes, releasing down her throat.

Conway’s eyes close, and then he breaks , his face contorting in pain and pleasure as he spills inside her.

When he’s done, he doesn’t move. He breathes her in. Stays curled over her back, murmuring something only she can hear.

And Grace? Grace is glowing.

Sweaty. Spent. Soaked with us. Marked by us. Loved by us.

She knows what she wants and what we have to give.

But will it be enough?