Page 153 of Shadow Waltz
When we broke apart, breathless, Adrian winked. “Let’s see how loud we can get them.”
We repositioned, Adrian kneeling behind Noah now, me behind Ash. The two of them on all fours, faces turned toward each other, hands linked as if grounding themselves in each other’s strength.
Adrian removed the plug from Noah, watching him quiver at the loss, then guided his cock to Noah’s entrance, pushing in slow and deep. Noah cried out, the sound equal parts surprise and delight, his body arching back, taking Adrian to the hilt.
I leaned over Ash, whispering in his ear, “You want me?”
He whimpered, pressing back against me. “Yes, Luka—please. Fill me.”
I slipped the plug free, replaced it with the thick head of my cock, and eased in, slow and savoring, watching the way Ash’s body took me, stretched and welcomed, his moans vibrating through the mattress.
Noah and Ash clung to each other, the bed rocking as Adrian and I set a rhythm, hips moving in tandem, dirty words and encouragements pouring over our boys. Adrian leaned over, capturing my mouth again, our kiss full of teeth and hunger, hands roaming, bodies aligned. The room was a tangle of sweat and heat, toys scattered, voices rising and falling as we drove each other closer and closer to the edge.
Adrian’s voice was a low growl. “Let’s see who can make their boy come first.”
Challenge hung thick in the air, sparking between the four of us. Adrian drove into Noah with deliberate, rolling thrusts, one hand flat against the small of Noah’s back, the other reaching beneath to stroke him in time. Noah’s body arched beautifully, his head thrown back, moans shivering up from deep in his chest—raw and unguarded.
I tightened my grip on Ash’s hips, letting my body move in a rhythm that sent pleasure rolling through both of us. Ash pushed back, meeting every thrust, eyes squeezed tight beneath the blindfold, his hands gripping the sheets, knuckles white. I reached around, stroking him, thumb pressing into the sensitive underside, whispering encouragement against the back of his neck.
“You’re doing so fucking good, Ash,” I murmured, breath hot against his skin. “You’re perfect. Let go for me. Show us how beautiful you are when you fall apart.”
Adrian’s encouragement was rougher, filthy praise tumbling from his lips. “Noah, you’re so tight. You take me so well—God, look at you. You’re not going to last, are you?”
Noah’s answer was a shattered gasp. “Please, Adrian—please—don’t stop—gonna come—need it?—”
Adrian leaned over, mouth at Noah’s ear. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let everyone see.”
I could feel Ash trembling, every muscle drawn taut. He writhed on my cock, hips rolling, body working for release. “Luka—please—please, I can’t?—”
“You can,” I whispered, stroking him faster, pushing in deep and grinding against that spot inside him that made him sob with need. “Come for me, Ash. Let go.”
Beside us, Noah broke first, his body arching, a wild, guttural cry bursting from his lips as he spilled over Adrian’s hand and the sheets below. His release set off a chain reaction—his body clenching down on Adrian, making Adrian groan, pace stutter, hips slamming hard as he let himself go, filling Noah with heat, his voice a tangled snarl of Noah’s name.
Ash was next—watching, listening, breath catching as he felt Noah’s climax. He gave a choked moan, body tensing, then falling apart in my arms, cock pulsing in my hand as he came hard, every tremor wrung out of him by my hand and cock and voice. I held him through it, hips snapping as pleasure built to a fever pitch. I pressed my mouth to Ash’s shoulder, teeth scraping his skin as I spilled inside him, shuddering, lost to the feeling of him clenching around me, trusting me completely.
For a moment, the only sound was our breathing—harsh and desperate, the slow thud of four hearts pounding out the same wild rhythm.
Adrian drew out slowly, careful, gathering Noah into his arms, pressing kisses along his spine, whispering praise and pride. I held Ash close, easing us both down to the bed, strokinghis hair, rubbing gentle circles into his back, waiting for his breathing to settle.
We collapsed together—a tangle of limbs and sweat and satisfaction, the bed a wreck of bodies and pleasure, hearts pounding in time.
Adrian reached over, hand finding mine, squeezing tight—a silent thank you, a promise, a benediction.
I stood in my study—aroom lined with first-edition books and eighteenth-century paintings that Adrian had insisted came with the property—reading the final report from the private investigators who'd been searching for Cass for eighteen months. Found. Alive. Dying.
Found. Alive. Dying.
The three words on the cover page hit like bullets to the chest, because they contained everything Ash had hoped for and everything he'd feared since the day I'd promised to locate the one person from his past who'd actually mattered. I'd moved heaven and earth to keep that promise, had utilized resources across three continents to track down someone who'd disappeared into the machine that consumed beautiful children, but success had come with complications I hadn't anticipated.
Cass was currently residing in a private medical facility outside Edinburgh, receiving palliative care for complications that stemmed directly from eight years of systematic abuse. The photographs included in the report showed someone barely recognizable as the vibrant child Ash remembered, cancer and organ failure having carved away everything except the essential structure of bone and determination.
But they were alive. After eight years of silence, after countless dead ends and false leads, after enough money spent to fund small countries, the investigators had finally located the one ghost from Ash's past who could provide the closure he needed to fully embrace our future together.
“Sir?” Mason's voice carried through the intercom with the careful neutrality that meant they'd recognized the weight of whatever I was processing. “Mr. Carter is requesting your presence in the garden. He says the roses need your expert opinion on pruning techniques.”
I smiled despite the gravity of the report in my hands, because Ash's sudden interest in horticulture was transparent code for wanting my attention for reasons that had nothing to do with gardening. Since we'd moved to London six months ago, he'd developed the habit of manufacturing domestic crises whenever he wanted to discuss something important without the formality of scheduled conversations.
“Tell him I'll be down in five minutes,” I replied, closing the file and moving it to the secure cabinet where we kept intelligence that could destroy lives if it fell into the wrong hands. “And Mason? Prepare travel arrangements for Edinburgh. Two passengers, private transport, accommodations for an extended stay.”