“That’s it, baby,” Cyrus groans, his rhythm faltering. “Take all of me.”
He slams into me one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he pulses inside me, filling me with his release. We stay locked together, both trembling and breathless, until he slowly withdraws.
I feel his cum beginning to leak out, but before it can drip down my thighs, Cyrus tugs my panties back into place, the fabric immediately soaking up his seed. He then pulls my torn leggings up my legs, arranging them carefully over my hips.
“You’re going to rehearsal just like this,” he says, his voice husky with satisfaction. “With my cum dripping into your panties while you dance.”
I turn to face him, my legs still wobbly. “Cyrus?—”
“The tear isn’t bad,” he continues, running his finger along the rip at my thigh. “No one will see anything they shouldn’t. But you’ll feel me with every movement.”
The thought of dancing with his essence inside me, marking me as his even in my sacred space, sends a thrill through me.
“Yes,” I whisper, surprising myself with how much I want this—this extension of him into the part of my life I’ve been trying to keep separate.
He pulls me against him, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that’s all heat and possession. It’s messy and passionate, our tongues tangling as I taste myself on his lips.
“See you later,” Cyrus says when we finally break apart, landing a stinging smack on my ass that makes me gasp. “Now go show them how a claimed woman moves.”
23
ACE
Ilie awake, staring at the ceiling as moonlight filters through the blinds, casting silver patterns across our bed. Cyrus breathes evenly beside me, his arm draped possessively over Keira’s waist as she nestles between us. The digital clock reads 2:17 AM when I notice her eyes are open, watching me.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask.
Keira shifts, careful not to wake Cyrus. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
I turn to face her fully, noting the tension in her expression. “What is it?”
She hesitates, then draws a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize... for suggesting that you and Cyrus... touch each other.” Her voice falters. “It was wrong of me to mention that. It’s been weighing on my mind.”
The words hang heavy between us. Beside her, Cyrus stirs, his eyes opening. He’s always had an uncanny ability to sense important conversations.
“What’s happening?” Cyrus mumbles, instantly alert despite the hour.
“Keira’s apologizing for suggesting we touch each other sexually,” I say, my tone deliberately neutral despite the discomfort crawling under my skin.
Silence stretches for several heartbeats. Cyrus’s hand finds mine across Keira’s body—a gesture of solidarity we’ve shared since childhood.
“It scared us,” I admit, words I’d never say to anyone but the two people in this bed. “What we have, Cyrus and I... It’s beyond sex.”
“We’ve shared everything our entire lives,” Cyrus continues, his voice rough with sleep and emotion. “Every possession, every victory, every tragedy.”
“Even you,” I add, brushing a strand of hair from Keira’s face. “But some lines shouldn’t be crossed. Not because we’re ashamed or judgmental?—”
“But because what we have is already perfect in its complexity,” Cyrus finishes. “We don’t need to blur those boundaries.”
Keira nods, relief washing over her features. “I understand. I’m sorry I made things uncomfortable.”
“Don’t apologize for your fantasies,” I tell her. “We want all of you—your darkness, your desires. Even the ones we can’t fulfill.”
I watch Keira’s expression soften with our reassurance, but something tugs at my chest—a truth I’ve been holding back from both of them. Maybe it’s the vulnerability of the moment or the darkness that makes confession easier, but words form before I can stop them.
“But thinking about something doesn’t mean not wanting it.”
The admission hangs in the air between us. Keira’s eyes widen, and I notice Cyrus go completely still beside her. The hand that had been holding mine across Keira’s body withdraws, almost imperceptibly.
