Page 68 of Contracted to the Bikers

“Cum for me,” Rook orders.

“Only if you cum with me too,” I reply breathlessly, kissing him deeply.

He looks me deep in the eye. “Anywhere,” he promises, and I know he’s talking about more than sex.

As I feel him find release, pumping deep inside me, I too fall over the edge, my orgasm hitting deep and lingering long after he moves away.

The guys wait, holding back. I know they’d stop now if I wanted, but if we’re trying for a baby, I want to try with all of them, even if it doesn’t change our odds of conceiving. We need something real to show we’re all in this together.

I move onto all fours, taking Boone’s throbbing erection in my hand. Cruz hesitates a second.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Cruz?” I tease, echoing his words back at him.

He doesn’t hesitate any longer. He thrusts inside me and fucks me like a wild animal. Like he’s seeing impregnating me as a contest. Which wouldn’t surprise me if Cruz does become a little competitive about it, even if he doesn’t mind the end result and would love a child no matter who the bio dad is, I know he’d enjoy being the one to impregnate me first. Luckily, his determination and jackrabbit fucking doesn’t take the pleasure out of the sex, the opposite in fact. It feels like the first time between us, passionate, raw, and hungry. It doesn’t take long before another orgasm tears through me, and he finishes in three deep thrusts, holding his cock inside me until the last wave of pleasure rolls through me, and his cock slowly starts to soften.

It’s Boone’s turn next, always the patient one, the one who takes his time, who doesn’t like to rush things. Though I can tell by his expression that he might not last too long, he’s been using his iron will to hold off for me. I move to straddle him, sitting on top, my legs spread wide to fit around his bulk, opening my pussy and stretching it as his thick, girthy erection fills me. I let out a low hiss between my teeth. No matter how many times we have sex, it always takes me a moment to accommodate him.

Boone kisses me, looking lovingly into my eyes as I grind my hips, fingers curling in the smattering of hair on his chest. I throw my head back in pleasure, and Rook buries his fingers in my hair, kissing my neck, while Cruz strokes my clit and teases my nipples. It feels right to have them all taking charge, to be together for this moment.

“You’re beautiful,” Boone murmurs.

“Ours,” Rook growls.

“The mother of our children,” Cruz adds, his words a promise.

I meet Boone’s eyes, knowing that neither of us will last much longer. “Cum for me, let’s make a baby.”

Boone finds his release but doesn’t stop, not right away. All three of my men continue to tease me until I cum for a third time, the orgasm rippling through wave after wave until I think they might never stop.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you, Boone. I love you, Rook. I love you, Cruz,” I cry out.

They echo my words of love as I fall back, panting and smiling from ear to ear as they hold me, quivering with pleasure in their arms.

Later, when everything softens again, when breath slows, and the world comes back in quiet edges instead of sharp lines, I lie there between them, my body loose and warm, my head resting against Boone’s shoulder. Rook’s arm is still around my waist. Cruz is close enough that I can feel the heat of him without even looking.

I stare up at the ceiling, my hand drifting absently to my stomach, the gesture instinctive, almost unconscious. We’re really doing this. I know it’s unlikely, impossible even, but I wonder if we’ve already sparked a life with our sex.

Rook notices immediately. His hand tightens slightly against me. “You okay?” he asks.

I turn my head toward him, smiling softly. “Yeah. More than okay.”

Cruz shifts, propping himself up just enough to look at me. “Good,” he says. “Because we’re not exactly known for doing things halfway.”

Boone lets out a quiet breath that might be a laugh. “No. We’re not.”

“Our kids are not exactly going to have a normal childhood,” Rook points out.

“No, but they’ll be loved. Normal is overrated anyway,” Cruz says with a flick of his wrist.

I glance between them. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Chapter 27

Sloane

Two Months Later

The courthouse looms above me, a powerful symbol of justice. Coming here feels almost like coming home, if home was a cold, uninviting, and somewhat fearsome place designed not to be welcoming but to be revered.