Page 15

Gabe is there, pressing against me, sliding inside me. My body stretches, burning from the delicious pressure. My hands grip his shoulders, breath catching as he fills me, mind spinning from the raw intensity.

This is real.

I moan, my body trembling, my senses overwhelmed in the best way.

Hank’s voice cuts through the haze, rough and approving. “Look at her, Gabe.” His tone is thick with something unreadable. “Look how well she takes you.”

Gabe groans, his forehead pressing against mine, his body moving in slow, deep strokes that steal my breath.

“She feels incredible,” he mutters, voice ragged. “So damn tight. Hot.”

“Feel Gabe fuck you. Feel his cock sliding into you, filling you.” Hank’s teeth graze my pulse point.

His fingers curl around my jaw, tilting my face toward his, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Pick up the pace, Gabe,” he commands, his voice like a dark promise. “Show her how we fuck. ”

“Gladly.” A wicked grin spreads across Gabe’s lips.

He thrusts hard and deep, stretching me, sending pleasure detonating through my body.

I cry out, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders.

Hank growls his approval, his lips trailing down, sucking at the base of my throat.

My mind spins, overwhelmed—too much and not enough all at once.

“Good girl,” Hank murmurs against my skin. “Now let go. Let him fill you with pleasure.”

I do.

Hank stands at my side, watching, controlling. The weight of his presence is solid, a promise of what’s still to come.

A whimper slips from my lips. The overwhelming stretch, the pressure, the way both of them watch me, owning every reaction wracking through me—it’s too much and not enough all at once.

“She’s holding back,” Hank murmurs, his fingers brushing the column of my throat, his touch a steady contrast to the fire igniting inside me. “Let go, luv.”

Gabe shifts, his pace quickening, his grip tightening. My entire body bows, pleasure coiling tight, heat surging to a breaking point.

“She’s close,” Hank says, his voice a growl of command and control. “Make her come, Gabe.”

And he does.

I unravel, pleasure crashing through me in a wave so powerful it steals my breath. A choked cry escapes my lips as my body tightens around him. The force of it shocks me, sends my head spinning, and leaves me shaking in their hands.

Gabe follows a heartbeat later, groaning low, his body going rigid, his forehead pressing against mine as he comes. The moment stretches, the only sound our ragged breathing, the weight of it settling over us in something more than just satisfaction.

Gabe slowly pulls back, stepping away, giving me space to recover and breathe.

But before the absence of him can settle, Hank moves.

His hands slide to his belt, unhurried but deliberate. The soft snick of the buckle unfastening makes my stomach tighten.

I am mesmerized as he slides the leather free, coiling it in his fist before tossing it to the counter. The button of his pants follows. The slow rasp of the zipper dragging down, makes my skin prickle.

My breath catches as he pushes the fabric down, and the long, thick length of him springs free. He steps out of his clothes, standing before me—broad, powerful, ready.

Heat floods me at the sight of him, the sheer command he holds in his body alone, but what steals my breath is the way he grips himself, stroking slowly, watching me watch him.

He doesn’t touch me immediately.

“Like what you see, luv?” A low, approving chuckle escapes him.

I can’t answer. My tongue flicks out, wetting my lips, my body already aching for more.

He sees it. Of course, he sees it.

He laughs, dark and knowing.

“Eager little thing.” His voice is a slow drawl, rich with satisfaction. “You want to taste me, don’t you? Serve me?”

The word sinks into me, sending another pulse of heat through my core.

Serve.

Not give. Not take. Serve.

“Yes.” I nod, my breath shallow.

Every nerve in my body hums, anticipation thick in my blood. My gaze flicks downward, catching on the thick length of him, hard and waiting, his hand curling around himself in a slow stroke. I bite my lip, my stomach clenching, my body still needy.

His jaw tics, his fingers flexing just slightly.

“You want me to fuck you?” His voice is rough, edged with something dangerous, something delicious.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Hank tilts his head, studying me, testing me. “You have options, luv.” His hands trail down my sides, slow, teasing. “I could fuck this pretty mouth of yours… or bend you over this counter and take you from behind. I can fuck you on the counter, like Gabe did. ”

A fresh pulse of arousal surges through me, my stomach tightening at the sheer command in his voice.

“Or—” Still catching his breath, Gabe chuckles from where he leans against the counter, “you could see what happens when we both take you.”

I still.

My breath catches.

My thighs press together.

“Would you like that, Ally?” Hank leans in, his breath warm against my ear. His voice is a whisper of wicked intent. “To feel both of us at once? To let us show you what you’ve been missing?”

A tremor rolls through me, heat flooding every inch of my skin.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Gabe huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“We’ll get to all of that, but first, I want you to serve me.” Hank’s voice is low and commanding.

“Yes,” I whisper, looking at him, my lips parting, my body burning with the thought of what’s coming next. “Please.”

“Good girl.” A dark, approving growl rumbles in his chest. Hank points to the floor, his gaze locking onto mine. “Get on your knees.”

I slide off the counter, my legs unsteady, my body still tingling from Gabe, the way Hank watches, and the power in this moment.

I kneel before Hank, my body humming, still trembling, still needing. The pleasure Gabe pulled from me lingers in every nerve ending, but it’s not enough. Not yet.

Hank stands before me, watching. Measuring. He strokes himself with slow, deliberate intent, making me watch. My lips part on instinct, anticipation curling hot and tight in my stomach.

The weight of his presence presses down on me, calm, steady, entirely in control.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice a dark thread of authority winding through my veins.

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze, my breath catching at the approval I find there. My pulse pounds at how he studies me, as if I already belong to him.

“You’re going to take care of me now,” he says, the words settling over me like a collar, like ownership, like something inevitable. “You want that, don’t you?”

Heat flashes through me. I should feel self-conscious, but I don’t. Not under the weight of his gaze, not with Gabe’s heat at my back, watching, waiting.

“Yes, Sir.” My voice is soft but steady, certainty outweighing any nervousness.

Hank smirks, pleased.

“You don’t have to call me Sir.” His words are low, teasing, but there’s an edge beneath them, something dangerous and unyielding.

A shiver runs through me, my fingers twitching where they rest on my thighs. I want to reach for him, serve him, and feel his approval like a physical thing.

He sees it. Of course, he sees it.

His smirk deepens. “Do you like it when I tell you what to do?”

My throat tightens, heat pooling low in my belly. I should hesitate, but I don’t.

“Yes.” The word slips from my lips too easily, too naturally.

Hank hums, fingers trailing along my jaw, tilting my face up further.

“Good girl.”

The praise sinks into my skin, settling deep, making my breath stutter. I want this; the weight of his control, the way he commands without needing to force, the way I don’t have to think—just follow.

Gabe shifts behind me, his presence a different kind of heat—sharper, wilder. His fingers graze my shoulder, a barely there touch that makes my skin tighten.

“She likes this,” Gabe murmurs, amusement laced through his voice. “Loves surrendering.” He leans down, breath warm against my ear. “I felt it—the way she shattered for me.”

A tremor rolls through me, my thighs pressing together at the memory.

Hank’s gaze darkens, full of satisfaction, control, and possession.

“You’ll take your time,” he murmurs, his voice a steady pulse against my skin. “I want to feel every second of this. ”

My pulse hammers, anticipation twisting into something almost unbearable. The moment stretches, and the space between us is charged and electric.

Then—Hank threads his fingers through my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back, forcing me to hold his gaze.

“Open that pretty mouth, luv.”

And I do. I part my lips and lean forward, taking him into my mouth, savoring his taste and the power he exudes.

His hands tighten in my hair, a possessive grip that makes me shiver. His fingers guide my movements, a silent command that dictates the rhythm of my head as I move up and down his shaft.

His muscular thighs tense, and although he holds himself still, he’s close. His fingers clench as he fights for control.

His grip on my hair intensifies as he thrusts deeper into my mouth, a guttural growl escaping his lips. The pain is sharp, exhilarating—a sign of the pleasure I’m giving him.

His body shudders with his release, fingers flexing once more before going lax. He pulls back, breath still ragged, his forehead nearly resting against mine.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs against my lips, voice still husky with satisfaction.

A deep, appreciative chuckle rumbles from behind me.

“Fuck, she looks so beautiful on her knees,” Gabe says, his tone a mix of admiration and barely restrained want. His words send a shiver through me, a reminder that we’re far from done. “I can’t wait to feel the heat of her lips around me.”

“You will. Soon.” Hank is the first to break eye contact, his dominant presence a force even as he gently pulls me to my feet. My legs feel shaky, my body still humming, but the way he steadies me, strong hands wrapped around my waist, grounds me.

Then—

A sharp, acrid scent curls through the air.

Gabe sniffs, tilting his head slightly. “Is that?—”

Hank’s curse is low and immediate. “Fuck.”

I barely have time to process the shift before he’s moving past me, yanking the pan off the burner. Thick smoke rises in lazy tendrils from whatever was supposed to be breakfast.

I bite my lip, a laugh bubbling up before I can stop it.

Gabe, however, does not hold back.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, arms crossed as he leans against the counter, completely unbothered by the chaos. “What do we have here? Looks like someone got a little… distracted and burned breakfast.”

Hank glares at him, setting the pan down with more force than necessary. “Shut up, Gabe.”

But Gabe’s grinning now. Absolutely thriving.

“Oh no, by all means, let’s acknowledge what’s happening here.” He gestures to the charred remnants of eggs and bacon. “You—master of the kitchen—burned breakfast. Meanwhile, I, the alleged danger to all things culinary, am not allowed to cook.” His grin turns downright wicked.

I smother a laugh behind my hand, watching as Hank’s jaw clenches.

“I swear to God,” Hank mutters, tossing the pan into the sink. “You are never?—”

“Allowed to use kitchen appliances unsupervised, yeah, yeah.” Gabe waves him off, smirking. “But you know what? I think today’s a special occasion. Maybe I should take over breakfast.”

Hank spins to face him fully.

“No.”

Gabe bursts into laughter, and I can’t help but join in.

I didn’t expect this. The teasing, the banter, the effortless way they fall into this rhythm around me. It’s different from anything I’ve ever known—something unshakable, something real.

Hank sighs, wiping a hand over his face before shaking his head. “Alright. Clean up this mess,” he gestures to the stove, “then we’re all showering. You smell like sex.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow. “You smell like burnt eggs.”

Hank flips him off.

I grin as they bicker, warmth curling deep in my chest.