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“But … the food isn’t ready yet.”
He pulls my jeans down harshly, the material rubbing against my skin, and undresses me totally before leaning close to my ear. “It isn’t that kind of taste test. Get on your knees.”
Excitement dampens my inner thighs, and I turn slowly, getting to my knees. It’s disorientating, being naked and draped in darkness, but the arousal overcomes the confusion.
A hand slides down my front, cupping my breast. “Hello, husband.”
Zayden laughs. “You’re getting cocky, Q.”
“As if she wasn’t always cocky,” Xavier says. “Open your mouth.” I do, and I tip my head back slightly, resting my hands on my thighs. “See if you can guess who’s cum you’re swallowing first.”
One by one, they fuck my throat. My jaw aches, my knees hurt, but I suck them greedily, even when tears stream down my cheeks. I’m wet, unbearably sensitive, and when I swallow the second heavy load of cum, I almost cry out from relief when I’m moved, straddling one brother and lowered onto his cock. It’s Zayden, and I moan deeply as he bottoms out inside me.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispers, running his thumbs over my nipples as Yale leans me forward.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Yale groans, running his lubed finger across my ass. “How tight is she, Z?”
“So fucking tight,” he groans.
I’m still blindfolded, but when a hand gently grips my chin and angles my head to the right, I open my mouth. Xavier glides the tip of his cock across my lips, and I lick at him, eager to swallow him, too.
The chill of lube, the pressure of Yale, and then they’re all inside me.
They fuck my holes relentlessly, the kitchen floor hard on my knees, my body lit up with pleasure enough to not care. After I come twice, Yale pulls out of me and lifts me into his arms, removing the blindfold as he positions me on the couch.
They each fuck me, slower this time. My body is teased and worshipped by hands, mouths, and cocks, and I’m dizzy from how goddamn lucky I am.
Time stops making sense, and my final orgasm lulls me into a deep sleep.
The crackle of fireworks wakes me at midnight. I don’t remember us coming to bed, but we’re in the same positions as always. Zayden is spooning me, Xavier is on the far side of the bed in his own space, but Yale is gone.
Climbing out of bed, I go downstairs and find him dishing his cooking into Tupperware and placing it in the fridge. Bullet is at his feet, watching him greedily.
“Happy New Year,” I whisper, tiptoeing over to him.
Yale grins and kisses me. “Happy New Year. I love you.”
“I love you.”
I watch him put away the last of the food and wash the dishes. He’s meticulous, focused, a small smile on his lips as he works.
As I admire him, I think about the question that’s been on my mind since that awful night with Ryker. Something I’ve thought about, over and over, but never found the courage to voice, and wonder if this is the right time. Maybe it’ll never be right.
“Why did you never come back?”
Yale takes a kitchen towel from the side and looks at me. “Back where?”
“To visit me.”
His smile is puzzled. “Visit you?”
In the muted light of the kitchen, I search his face and wonder if maybe I’m wrong. But I can’t be. I’m not.
“I never wrote about my father beating me with rocks. It wasn’t in my diaries; it wasn’t something I ever spoke about. The only person who knew was my dad.” His smile fades slightly. “And the boy who looked after me when it happened.” Yale Silver watches me, and I blink back the blur of tears when he doesn’t deny it. “It was you, wasn’t it? You were my Odin.”
I watch him, and I see the recognition in his eyes.
Eyes I know.
