Page 49

Gray looks at him, and something unspoken is communicated, because when Grayson’s eyes swing back to mine, he whispers against my lips. “Can Hunter fuck your ass, sweetheart?”

I think about it for half a second.

“Yes,” I surprise myself by panting.

“Caleb?” Hunter says.

“Yeah?” Caleb asks, back to stroking his leaking cock.

“Lube?”

“On it,” Caleb replies.

He grabs a pair of sweatpants—definitely not his—and tugs them on. A few minutes later, he’s back with something from the kitchen. It’s hard to focus with the way Grayson’s pounding me—still holding me in his arms like I’m weightless, practically hitting my g-spot with each hard thrust.

“Coconut oil?” Hunter asks from over my shoulder.

“It’ll work,” Caleb says with a nod.

And then things are happening. Grayson pulls out just long enough to lie stretched out on the floor. I’m positioned on top of him like a queen and begin riding him again.

A long groan pours out of him as he massages my bouncing breasts.

Then Hunter kneels behind me, taking my hips in his hands. I hear him slathering his dick, stroking it with the coconut oil from Mrs. Ward’s kitchen.

And just when I’m certain I’m probably destined for hell, I feel the blunt head of him right there.

This is new.

Scary.

And thrilling.

He kisses the back of my neck, his voice lower than a growl. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He pushes forward, tries to anyway…and fails to get it inside of me. Like, at all.

I don’t think it will anatomically fit.

“Have you done this before?” Grayson questions him with a scowl.

Hunter must shoot him a glare over my shoulder that answers that question.

“Deep breaths, pretty girl,” Gray says, eyes half-closed in pleasure.

I inhale deeply and steel myself, still riding him.

I feel pressure, heat, and blinding pleasure as Hunter works the head of his cock inside my ass. I fall forward, hands braced against Gray’s abs.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart,” Hunter says with a curse. “Kinda strangling my cock right now, baby.”

I breathe again, and Hunter pushes in, two more inches. Another deep breath. Another inch.

He talks to me—low, dirty encouragements and tender check-ins. His hand never stops moving, smoothing down my spine, holding onto one globe of my ass. Keeping me with him.

When he finally pushes in more, slow and steady, I gasp—half pleasure, half disbelief.

He stills instantly. “Too much?”

“No,” I breathe, already dizzy. “Just… don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

His thrusts are firm and measured, his grip on me grounding. He kisses my shoulder, my neck, murmuring things that make my entire body tighten around him. I can feel how much he’s holding back—every muscle tense, every breath shaky.

My hands are on Gray’s chest, his eyes are half-closed and filled with pleasure. The feeling of them both inside me is too much, but still perfect.

“You feel like heaven, Ri,” Grayson rasps. “Like everything I never thought I could have.”

I press my forehead to his, overwhelmed.

Then Caleb is there, joining us, stripped of his sweatpants again, and once again feeding his cock into my mouth. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I keep my eyes on his, my body burning with more pleasure than I can ever explain.

Sudden footsteps in the hall capture our attention. A light flicks on.

I freeze mid-grind, my hands braced on Grayson’s chest, his cock buried deep inside me, and Hunter’s cock inside my ass.

Caleb’s mom calls cheerfully, “Do you boys have enough blankets in there?”

Grayson clamps a hand over my mouth.

Panic flashes in Caleb’s eyes, his dick pressed against my cheek. “We’re good, Mom!”

“I just want to make sure everyone’s warm!” she calls back.

Grayson groans— quietly —and mutters, “We’re warm, Mrs. Ward. Very warm.”

“Okay. Night, boys,” she calls out, and the hall light flicks off once again.

Quiet laughter erupts behind me, and then Hunter starts moving again. Gray drops his hand from my mouth, and then we’re moving again—quieter this time. Caleb pushes his cock back inside my mouth, stroking my cheek with this thumb.

“Gonna come, baby,” Hunter grunts.

“Almost there,” Gray says next.

Pressure builds—the fullness inside me—the blinding pleasure. It’s too much.

And when I finally come, it’s not loud. It’s quiet. Shattering. A release so intense it feels like exhaling something I didn’t know I was holding.

Grayson follows with a groan, his eyes falling closed like he’s breaking too. Hunter jerks once and stills behind me, clutching my hips in his hands, still buried in my ass.

It takes several seconds of slow breathing before I know where I am or what’s happening. Before I feel Hunter pull back slowly, carefully.

“Are you kidding me?” Grayson says, groaning.

I blink down at his chest—at the sticky trail currently cooling across his ribs—and the way he’s glaring at Caleb.

Caleb’s still catching his breath, looking way too pleased with himself.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “Didn’t aim.”

“You didn’t even try to aim,” Grayson mutters, wiping at his stomach with the edge of the nearest t-shirt, which happens to be Caleb’s. “We need new rules. Bodily fluids stay in your designated zone.”

Still on top of Grayson, I just giggle. “He’s a messy shooter.”

Caleb smirks. “I take pride in my craft.”

“I take pride in not being used as a human canvas without warning,” Gray shoots back.

Hunter presses one more kiss to the back of my neck, chuckling.

Grayson scowls. “Next time? Give a man a heads up .”

I’m lifted onto the mattress, boneless and breathless, when the fussing begins.

Grayson is the first to move. He disappears for a moment, then returns with a warm washcloth and the kind of gentle, practiced touch that says he’s done this before. Of course he has. Mr. Thoughtful. Mr. “I Know Better Than to Leave You Sticky and Miserable.”

“Easy,” he murmurs, dabbing between my thighs with careful reverence. “You okay?”

I nod, a little dazed. “Yeah. Just… floating.”

Hunter watches, his thumb parting my pussy lips to inspect me for himself. “Okay, princess?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod as Gray continues, moving the warm cloth between my ass cheeks next. It should feel like an invasion of privacy; instead, it feels like aftercare.

Caleb reappears next with a giant hoodie and a bottle of water, like a proud retriever. “Hydration and oversized comfort,” he says, helping me sit up and slipping the hoodie over my head like I’m breakable. His hands linger on my waist. “You’re literally glowing, by the way.”

I groan. “Stop.”

“Never.”

Hunter moves behind me, pulling me gently into his lap, strong arms wrapping around my middle like I might float away if he doesn’t anchor me.

His chin rests on my shoulder, lips brushing the side of my neck. “Tell us if anything hurts.”

“Except your pride,” Caleb adds, smirking.

Grayson rolls his eyes. “Let her breathe, Romeo.”

But none of them let go.

And I don’t want them to.

Because this—this quiet mess of cuddles and teasing and gentle hands and whispered praise—this is what love looks like in this house.

And I’ve never felt more taken care of.

Or more theirs .

“Baby?” Caleb says around a yawn.

“Yeah?” I reach up, absently stroking the stubble on his jaw.

“Dibs on fucking your ass next.”

We all chuckle, and Grayson throws a pillow at him.

Grayson’s arm is slung over my waist, his breathing deep and steady behind me.

Caleb’s in front, one leg thrown possessively over mine, his hand curled around my wrist like he needs to know I’m there.

Hunter’s further back, not quite touching but close enough to radiate heat—and comfort.

And I’m tangled between three bodies that feel like home.

It’s silent, except for the soft whir of the fan and the occasional shifting of blankets.

And in the quiet, my brain finally catches up to my heart.

This shouldn’t work. Three hockey players. One overworked nursing student. No guidebook. No roadmap. Just a mess of feelings and hormones and found-family chaos.

But somehow… it does.

They each care for me in wildly different ways—Grayson with his quiet steadiness, Caleb with his sunshine and sugar, Hunter with his rare, fierce tenderness that he only shows when no one’s looking.

I’ve never felt more seen.

More wanted.

More safe.

I nestle deeper into Caleb’s chest, sighing when Grayson shifts to hold me tighter. Hunter brushes a hand down my calf as he exhales like he’s finally relaxing.

It hits me, then.

I could love them.

Maybe I already do.

God help me.

Because this isn’t just lust.

This is something bigger.

And scarier.

And more beautiful.

And that terrifies me.

Because love?

That was never part of the equation.