He's been waiting. Patient. His cock hard and dark and leaking in his hand, barely moving—holding, not stroking. His eyes on me, warm and steady and full of the thing he carries better than any of them. The thing he said to me in the library that night.
The thing I couldn't say back.
I'm wrecked. Atlas's come leaking out of me, my own slick soaking the sheets underneath me. I can still taste Zero on my tongue—salt and skin and the bitter-clean edge of him. I've come twice and my body is humming and sore and oversensitive and I want Bane inside me so badly I can feel the ache of his absence like a missing tooth.
I go to him.
He's still where he's been—patient, waiting, his cock hard and dark and leaking against his stomach. Our eyes lock. He reads me in a single look—the way I'm moving toward him, the intent in my body, what I want and how I want it—and he shifts back against the headboard without a word. Sits up. Spreads his thighs. Makes room for me like he knew before I did.
I climb into his lap on shaking thighs—straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips, my hands on his chest. His hands slide up my thighs, my hips, my ribs, until one hand cradles the back of my neck and the other presses flat against the base of my spine. We're chest to chest. Face to face. His mouth an inch from mine.
His eyes drop between us. To my cock—hard again, flushed, curved up against my stomach like my body didn't get the memo that I've already come twice.
"Still hard for me, Maxie?" Low. His thumb traces a circle on the back of my neck. "After everything they just did to you? You're still aching for more?"
"Yes."
"Yeah?" His hips shift underneath me. He reaches down and pushes his cock beneath me and it slides against the cleft of my ass—hot, slick, the head nudging where I'm swollen and open and wet with his brother's come. "You want me inside you? Want to feel all three of us?"
"Bane—"
"Say it."
"I want you. Please. I want you inside me."
He kisses me. Not deep. Not hungry. Just his mouth on mine, soft and open, breathing me in. I taste him—clean, warm, the faint sweet edge that's always underneath everything with Bane—and I breathe him back and we share the air between us like it's the only air left.
I reach between us. Find his cock—hard, thick, the head slick and hot against my ass—and I line him up and sink down.
Slow. Inch by inch. My thighs shaking, my mouth open against his, my breath stuttering as his cock fills me. I'm swollen and tender and so open from Atlas and Zero that the stretch is almost gentle—almost—but Bane is thick and long and by the time I'm fully seated, his cock buried to the root, his hips flush against the back of my thighs, I feel so full I can't breathe.
"Oh god, Maxie." His voice breaks against my lips. His hand tightens on the back of my neck. "You feel—I can feel everything—all of it—them—"
Everything. Atlas's come still inside me, slick around Bane's cock. The stretch from Zero still tender. My body used and swollen and so sensitive that every inch of Bane feels like a live wire.
I start to move. Slow. Rolling my hips, lifting up until just the head holds me open, sinking back down until I feel him in my stomach. His forehead presses against mine. His breath comes in short broken gasps against my mouth. We're so close I can feel his eyelashes on my cheek.
"Maxie—you feel so—I can't—"
"I know. I feel you. I feel everything."
His hand on my neck pulls me into another kiss—deep this time, his tongue against mine, his hips rolling up to meet me on the downstroke. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it the way Atlas swallows mine—greedy, grateful, like the sound is something he wants to keep.
The bed shifts behind me.
Zero.
His chest presses against my back—warm, solid, the muscle of him flush against my spine. His hands find my hips. His fingers dig into the bruises he’s already left and he grips me and drags me forward on Bane's cock—hard, deliberate—then shoves me back down.
"Faster, baby." His mouth against my ear. "Fuck him faster. He's been waiting all night. Give it to him."
He sets the rhythm. His hands on my hips, dragging me forward and back, forward and back, using my body to fuck his brother. My thighs are shaking too hard to hold my own pace and Zero takes over—pulling me up off Bane's cock until the head catches at my rim, then slamming me back down so hard Bane's eyes roll and his head drops back against the headboard.
"Zero—fuck—" Bane. Wrecked. His hand still on my neck, his grip tightening with every stroke.
"I got you," Zero says. To both of us. "I got both of you. Just feel it."
Atlas appears at my left. His hand slides into my hair. He tilts my head to the side—exposing my throat, the bond marks,the three claiming bites that map who I belong to—and his mouth finds the first one. His mark. He bites down on it, not hard enough to break skin, hard enough to send a bolt of heat straight through my chest and into my cock, and I cry out so loud the room rings with it.
