Page 62 of Saving Sparrow (Slow Burns & Tragic Beginnings #2)

“I’m here because I couldn’t sleep without you two, and I need to fucking sleep.

” He placed his hands on his hips. “I had this whole plan to pick your ass up and toss you into our bed. I was prepared to tie you to the damn headboard if I had to.” He definitely seemed pumped up enough to do it, maybe even a little disappointed he wouldn’t get to.

“I had a whole speech and everything. What am I going to do with all my rage now?” He sounded put out.

Elliott and I shared a smile, then he pulled the blanket back, patting the space next to him. “Get in.”

“About damn time,” Quentin grumbled, kicking his shoes off and stripping down to his boxer briefs.

“I can’t believe you drove all the way back here in the middle of the night,” Elliott said, settling onto his side.

Quentin spread out in front of him—my usual position when we all slept together.

I snuggled in behind Elliott again, slipping my arm across his chest, holding his heart the way Quentin normally did.

“Five hours, pretty girl. I drove five long fucking hours to get back to you.” And he’d driven five hours to get there super early this morning, plus he’d done all the things required once there.

“I’m sorry. We should’ve gone with you.” Elliott sighed.

“Don’t be sorry, pretty girl. Just don’t let it happen again—if you can help it,” he added, surely for my benefit.

Things would be a little different when we got to Wembly.

College and high school schedules didn’t work the same.

Elliott and I both enrolled as English majors, so we could sync our schedules, but aside from some gen-ed courses, Quentin would be schooling it on his own.

Plus, his football schedule would be more demanding, and we wouldn’t be allowed to watch him practice.

We’d already spoken about it, and while Quentin pretended to understand, I knew he didn’t want to.

“Promise,” Elliott said.

I still hadn’t turned the lamp off, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t moving from this position again unless I had a gun to my head. Quentin reached across Elliott to slide a hand along my ribcage.

“I want you, Guelly.”

I chuckled, laughing harder when Quentin’s harsh touch turned into a tickle. “You always want me, Q.”

“Q for quarterback,” he whispered. “I still want you.”

Elliott shook with laughter.

“It’s after midnight. Get some sleep,” I said, knowing the order would do nothing if he was intent on having me. “And stop laughing,” I said to Elliott, poking him in his side. “You won’t get any sleep either if he does what he’s threatening to do.”

“Hey, I made no threats,” Quentin said. “Just stating facts.” We all laughed, then quieted.

A weird charge took over the room then, causing me to sit up and stare down at them.

Elliott and Quentin gazed at each other, Quentin appearing nervous—which was new for him. Elliott curled his fingers around Quentin’s shaggy hair. His eyes flared at Elliott’s touch as if it felt different this time. His gaze bounced over to me.

“Miguel,” Elliott whispered.

“Yeah,” I replied, holding Quentin’s stare.

“Is it okay now?”

“Yeah, Ellie. It’s okay.”

Elliott hesitated for only a split second before inching forward and kissing Quentin.

Quentin pulled back, mouth parted, expression confused. “What the…”

He glanced at me again, then back to Elliott, then back to me. “Guelly? What the fuck is going on?”

“We talked, and we all want the same thing.”

Quentin’s eyes bugged out. “Is this you making the first move, pretty girl?”

“Yeah,” Elliott breathed, reaching a hand back for me. I took it as Quentin assaulted him with a kiss that sent him flying onto his back.

I would’ve ranted at him for being so rough if seeing them go at it wasn’t so hot. Elliott let go of my hand to hold on to Quentin’s shoulders as Quentin crawled partway onto his chest. I inched back to give them some room.

I checked in with myself, searching for signs of jealousy or hurt and anger. All I found was love, a feeling of being alive, of being happy we had each other. This felt meant to be.

Elliott tried to keep up but couldn’t. He’d learn not to even try when it came to Quentin.

Quentin ripped himself away, leaving Elliott panting and flushed.

Getting to his knees, he reached over Elliott to pull me to him, then kissed me the same way.

“Fuck, I love you both,” he breathed, squeezing my nape.

Elliott still lay on his back, our knees digging into his sides as we leaned over him, kissing like we hadn’t kissed each other in weeks.

“Do you feel it?” Quentin asked me, eyes fluttering over my face.

“Yeah,” I answered, out of breath. “I feel it.” We dropped our gazes to Elliott.

His hair had come loose again, the tie holding the strands together torn apart by Quentin’s aggressive hands.

Somehow, the strap I’d adjusted on his nightgown had fallen off completely.

That side of the silk gown had folded down, and one tight, pink nipple faced me.

Elliott shifted restlessly, and breathing seemed difficult for him. Quentin and I peeled the covers away, revealing Elliott’s long, toned legs and thighs.

“Fuck, you look hungry, Guelly.”

“I am.” I bent over Elliott, my upper body angled over his chest as my palms pressed into his pillow. “Can I kiss you?” I asked, not even an inch away from his lips.

“Y-yes.”

I took my time, my kiss giving, meant to teach. Elliott parted his mouth, letting my tongue slip in.

“You two look hot as fuck,” Quentin groaned, squeezing my ass. That stamp of approval made Elliott more confident. He slipped his hands into my hair, opening his mouth wider. He followed my lead, sharing in the gentle dominance, both of us giving and taking with patience.

Quentin slid his hand into the back of my shorts, then into the back of my boxer briefs. I arched my back, moaning into Elliott’s mouth when his dry fingertip circled my hole.

“Wait.” I broke the kiss, rolling to my back as I fought for control over myself. Elliott raised to his elbows, staring over at me with red, puffy lips. Quentin palmed his dick through his underwear, plans formulating in his gaze.

“W-we need to take things slow.” They both gaped at me, and my own dick twitched as if asking Are you kidding me right now?! “We need to create some rules for how this is going to work.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Quentin. This is too important.” At my serious tone, their expressions filled with a matching fear.

“Okay,” Quentin said, taking a deep breath and falling to his haunches. “You’re right. But… can I just touch him a little bit? Can I touch you a little bit, pretty girl?”

“Yes.” Elliott nodded. “Please.”

They waited for me to give the okay, the needy look in their eyes turning me on. Promising myself we wouldn’t go too far, I gave in. “Just a little.”

“Lie on your side,” Quentin said to Elliott, already turning him in his direction. I closed in behind Elliott, moving his hair so I could kiss along his neck as Quentin inched his nightgown up.

Elliott moved as though he couldn’t control the energy in his body, his feet bumping into mine as his back arched. His ass brushed against my hard dick, and although I’d never topped before, I shuddered with how badly I wanted to.

I slid down his back as Quentin slid down his front, tearing away the lace briefs Elliott had on.

Elliott sucked in a breath, and I bit down on his bare ass cheek as Quentin asked, “Can I suck your dick, pretty girl?”

Elliott’s frantic nod reverberated down his body. “Yes.” He let out a cry, latching on to my hair as I spread him open and licked my way up his butt crack.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Quentin whispered, letting me know he’d already had his mouth on him. “Thick and salty.”

I almost came in my shorts, and I worked my tongue faster, rimming his hole the way Quentin rimmed mine. This was new to me, and I hadn’t expected to feel so powerful. I understood now why being the dominant one appealed to Quentin the way it did. Now, I’d get to experience both.

Elliott thrust back, fucking my tongue, and then forward, fucking Quentin’s mouth.

“Take your clothes off, Guelly,” Quentin ordered.

I stopped to slide my shorts and underwear off, then hurried back to Elliott’s ass again.

“Grab your dick,” he ordered next. “Get yourself off.” The sounds of him sucking and slurping around Elliott’s cock fired up again. I spit into my palm, reaching for myself.

My left arm was useless in this position, and with the loss of my right hand, I couldn’t spread Elliott’s cheeks apart. He unfisted my hair, holding himself open for me as he thrust harder into Quentin’s hungry mouth. Quentin loved sucking cock.

“Please, I… I…” Elliott was close.

“You come in my fucking mouth.” Quentin’s voice was rough. “You hear me?”

“Y-yes,” Elliott breathed. “P-please.”

The sound of Quentin spitting in his palm reached my ears, and I knew he was about to get himself off, too. He must have closed his lips around Elliott’s dick again because Elliott started bucking his hips faster as I fought to keep the tip of my tongue inside of him.

We all moved like our lives depended on it, our combined breathing loud and desperate.

“Unngh,” Elliott cried out, his hand moving from his ass to the back of my head, pressing me against him. I couldn’t get any air into my lungs, but dying like this would’ve been worth it.

He clenched around my tongue as his body twitched, making soft, demure sounds as he came. I came next, my spine snapping straight as my cum splashed against my hand and the back of Elliott’s calves. I sank my teeth into his ass cheek while I rode the wave.

Quentin’s tremor rocked the whole bed. He always came like he was being shot out of a cannon. Nothing about him was small. Not his body, not his dick, not his personality, nor his orgasms.

I rolled onto my back when it was over, sweaty, my hand covered in cum.

“Fuck, your jizz tastes good,” Quentin said to Elliott, sounding awed. “Guelly? You okay?”

I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t even see straight. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me, caging me in with his muscled arms.

“Guelly?” He looked paranoid, worried I’d had a change of heart, maybe.

“I’m… I’m fine,” I pushed past my dry throat.

He grabbed my wrist, sucking my fingers clean like a starved animal before sliding his cum-soaked digits into my mouth next.

“Swallow it,” he ordered, then kissed me, or more like pinned me in place by the neck and shoved his tongue into my mouth.

He tasted of salt and musk, the texture of his mouth creamy.

I clawed at him, trying to get deeper inside for a better taste of me and him and Elliott.

Elliott.

Quentin and I broke apart, shuffling up the bed to where Elliott lay on his back, staring toward the ceiling.

“Hey,” I said softly, wiping his damp temples. “Talk to me. Did we do something wrong?” My heart now pounded with fear instead of euphoria.

Elliott shook his head, turning it my way. “No, you did everything right. That… that was amazing .”

I kissed him with all the tenderness I had left, then Quentin took his turn. He was softer than usual, but the kiss was no less possessive and brutal.

“I can taste myself,” he whispered, tracing Quentin’s lips, “here.” He then used the fingers on his other hand to trace mine, “and here.”

“And you taste fucking unreal. Just as good as Guelly tastes going down my throat. We love you, pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We love you, Ellie.”

“Are you… in love with me?”

“Fuck yeah,” Quentin and I both said. Elliott screwed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to mine, then Quentin’s.

“Let’s get some sleep,” I said. We were sweaty and sticky, but I didn’t give a damn. I wasn’t ready to clean them off me.

Elliott popped his eyes open. “Sleep?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said.

“What if I don’t want to go to sleep?” he whispered. “What if… I want more?” He snaked shy fingers down our chests, his hands wrapping around both of our cocks. He blushed but held my stare. “Can we do more?” He turned to Quentin. “Please?”

Quentin growled, his dick already on board with Elliott’s breathless request. “Guelly?” He addressed me, but his eyes never left Elliott’s.

“Yeah?” I asked, already knowing I’d agree to anything, already knowing Elliott would own us from here on out.

“Give us the fucking rules.”