Page 59 of Triplets for the Rival MC

That word still makes my chest tighten. I have everything I ever wanted.

Most importantly, the babies are thriving. Chubby cheeks, strong kicks, loud, demanding lungs. They’re gaining weight beautifully. Their eyes are starting to focus better. Our girl already tracks movement like she’s studying the room. Flint says she has my stubborn stare. I look down at her now and brush a finger along her impossibly soft cheek.

My body feels different, heavier yet stronger in some places, softer in others. The swelling has gone down, but not completely. My hips are wider, my breasts fuller. There are faint stretch marks which lace my stomach like lightning bolts across my skin. The first time I really looked at them in the mirror, I cried. Not because I hated them, but because I didn’t recognize myself. I’d spent so long learning to love my body it felt like a setback. I was always curvy, but now I’m even softer, rounder. My men have noticed.

God, do they notice. But not with disappointment. They still look at me with hunger and desire, perhaps even more than before, and now with reverence.

“You gave us our family,” Flint told me last week when he caught me staring at my reflection too long. “You’re perfect.”

Hunter had run his hands down my hips, grinning. “You were dangerous before. Now you’re lethal.”

Cyrus kissed the stretch marks like they were medals. “These are beautiful. You are beautiful, you always will be.”

I didn’t believe them at first but I’m slowly starting to. Just as I did when I first got here.

Shelly offered to stay in the nursery room recently so we could have some ‘alone time’, winking at me when she said it. “You four need to remember you’re more than parents,” she teased. I turned down her offer, thanking her but feeling mortified at the thought of her hearing us.

I’m still learning how to be a parent, let alone finding who I am as a person again, as a lover.

Tonight is the first night the babies are all sleeping at the same time. A miracle. Flint shifts carefully, transferring our son into the bassinet. Hunter dims the lights. Cyrus brushes his fingers down my spine, slow and steady.

It’s been three months.They’ve been patient, gentle, careful, giving me the time and space I needed to heal. But I can feel the tension in the room tonight. I know that we’re finally going to spend some intimate time together. We move slowly into the bedroom we shared on nights we were intimate, before the babies. We take our time, we don’t need to rush. I’m ready. I swallow, throat all of a sudden dry. My heart beats faster.

“You nervous?” Hunter asks softly, trailing his fingers down my arm and making the hairs stand on end.

“A little.” It’s a good kind of nerves though.

Flint steps closer, cupping my face. “We stop the second you want.”

Cyrus nods. “Always.”

I look at the three of them, the fathers of my children. The men who stood between me and a war. The men who held me while I pushed three lives into the world. The men I want to spend the rest of my life with.

“I want this,” I say. I mean it.

Flint kisses me first. He’s slow, unhurried. It’s like he’s reacquainting himself with my rhythms, even though we’ve kissed since the birth of course, this time we know it’s going further. Hunter’s hands settle at my waist and he kisses the back of my neck, I can feel his arousal pressing against my ass and my pussy responds, twitching excitedly. Cyrus’s fingers trace the curve of my arm and I reach out to stroke him through his pants, feeling how he hardens under my touch.

They slowly explore every inch of my skin, rediscovering me, peeling off my clothes like a snake shedding its skin until I am reborn. Suddenly I’m grateful that I allowed Shelly to at least sleep in the guest room with a baby monitor, ready to see to the babies if one of them wakes, I don’t want anything to break the spell of this moment. I love being a mother, but right now, I need to be Tori the lover.

My body reacts differently now. It’s more sensitive in some places. When Hunter’s hand drifts over my hip and down to stroke my clit, circling through my panties, heat blooms lower in my stomach in a way that makes me gasp softly. They all freeze instantly.

“You okay?” Cyrus murmurs.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”

Flint rests his forehead against mine. “You’re even more beautiful.”

I almost laugh. “You’re biased,” I say with a smile, kissing him.

“No,” Hunter says quietly. “We’re grateful.”

The words mean more to me than he can know, finally brushing aside my concerns about my new body. My body is so strong, it made us our babies, every mark of that is something to be proud of, to be grateful for, to love.

Their touches grow more confident. Flint’s lips move down my neck. Hunter’s fingers map the curve of my thigh, tracing up to the wetness between my legs as he strokes me slowly. I moan as I grow wetter under his familiar touch. Cyrus’s hand spreads warm and steady across my breasts, tweaking the nipples, moving down my stomach, thumb brushing one of the faint stretch marks. Emotion swells so unexpectedly that my eyes sting. My body doesn’t feel like something to hide anymore. It feels like something that accomplished something extraordinary.

They finish undressing me slowly, reverently. Appreciating every inch, they lick and kiss me, worshipping me until I am bared before them. When I hesitate, glancing down at my softer stomach, Flint lifts my chin.

“Look at me,” he says. “I’ve never loved you more,” he tells me, staring me in the eye.