Page 95 of The Florist and Her Alphas

Cole produces four champagne flutes from a small wooden box by the door. He hands one to each of us. Ezra pours. August kisses my temple. Pepper, still on Cole’s shoulder, demands to be let out.

We sit on the floor of the shop. The brothers in their suits. Me, cross-legged in the middle of them. We drink champagne and eat takeout from a bag Cole had apparently brought in from the car.

I keep looking down at my left hand. The ring catches the light every time I move.

I cannot stop looking at it. I had not been ready for this an hour ago. I am not entirely sure I am ready for it now. But I am wearing it, and every time I look at it, my chest fills with warmth.

Around eight, after the takeout is gone and the bottle is empty, the brothers exchange a look I can’t quite read. Julian stands first. Stretches.

“We’re going to go pack your things,” he says, mild as anything. “So you can come home with us.”

I blink at him. “Pack?”

“Yes, don’t you want to sleep with your fiancés?” he asks with a smile.

“I do,” I say quickly, not wanting any of the alphas to leave me.

He grins. “You’re sleeping at the penthouse tonight. You don’t have to do anything but sit right here. The three of us are going upstairs to grab a few bags of your clothes.” He crouches, takes my chin gently between two fingers. “You can come back here every single day if you want. The apartment’s not going anywhere.”

“Okay.”

He kisses my forehead.

Cole and August rise and follow him toward the back of the shop, toward the narrow stairwell. The bell rings once as the door at the top creaks. I hear their footsteps climbing, and then the shop goes quiet again.

Ezra is on the floor beside me, against the front of the sales counter, his suit jacket wrinkling in a way I know he would never allow in an office. He pulls me into his side without asking. I let him. I curl into his chest, my face against his collarbone, and his arm comes warm and heavy around my shoulders, and I can hear his heart.

I let my eyes close.

He kisses the top of my head. He doesn’t speak for a long time. He just holds me, and I let him. Somewhere above us, I can hear the muffled footsteps of his brothers moving through my apartment, a drawer sliding open, and low conversation.

My left hand rests against Ezra’s chest.

After a long while, Ezra turns his face into my hair. “I was so afraid of losing you all day that I couldn’t sleep last night.” A pause. His arm tightens, just slightly. “I was half-certain you were going to say no, and I was scared that I was about to lose you again.”

I go very still against him. “Well, thank god that didn’t happen.”

“Yes.”

“I was afraid too,” I whisper against his throat. “I saw the ring under your bed and ran that same morning.” I swallow. “I walked back into this shop this morning thinking I was going to lose all of you by the end of the week. That I’d already ruined it by leaving.”

He laughs against my hair, quiet, low, more breath than sound. He brushes the tears off my cheekbones with both thumbs, slow, careful, like he’s afraid of pressing too hard. He cups my face in his hands.

“You’ll never ruin it, my love,” he says, kissing me again.

Twenty-Five

LIANA

The next morning, I’m moaning into my pillow, mouth open, with August’s thick cock buried deep inside my pussy. I’m lying on my side facing August. He is growling against my hair, low feral sounds that vibrate through his chest and into mine, and each thrust grinds us together until I am making soft helpless noises that I cannot control.

My right leg is hooked up over his hip, held there by his hand gripping the back of my thigh to hold me open. He pounds into me in long, heavy strokes, his hips snapping against mine while Cole thrusts into my asshole from behind.

The duvet has been kicked off to the floor sometime in the last twenty minutes. We are tangled in nothing but sheets and each other. Both of them had woken up with morning wood, and I had already been wet from a sexy dream involving them. They had simply turned to me in the dim early light, looking to release their tension.

August’s hand between my thighs first, finding me slick and ready. Cole’s mouth at my nape, breathing me in. I was already moaning before either of them had even asked.

August thumbs my nipple roughly as he fucks me. The calloused pad of his finger drags over the sensitive peak until I am arching against him, desperate for more and too overwhelmed to ask. He growls against my ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Your cunt is hugging me, Lia. Feel that? Feel how you’re trying to hold me inside you?“