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My head rolls back as Hardy tongue fucks me deep. I breathe fire as he goes back to my clit. I hear Owen stripping, but I can’t open my eyes to watch. Not when my body is just one raw, contracting nerve on the edge.
Owen crawls up onto the counter, he’s naked and my hands roam his firm skin as he edges up me. He crawls toward my face, his huge cock swinging back and forth hypnotically. He doesn’t stop until each of his legs is straddling my face. He pushes down his cockhead until his glistening dew drops of precum are resting on my lips. I lick the tip of my tongue over the top, swiping them away and he thrusts his shaft inside.
Surprised, I open my eyes wide and my jaw wider. I suck his cock hard, even as my own pleasure overwhelms me and makes me shudder and shake beneath him. I can’t help the moans that surround his cock. I don’t care anyway.
“I’m gonna fuck your tight little pussy, sweetheart. While Owen fucks your mouth, got it?” Hardy growls. It sends a shiver through me and it’s not because I’m scared.
“Mmmhmm,” I groan.
“Good girl,” he holds my legs wide and slides his cock inside me. I’m held down, lying back on the counter and completely at their mercy. Exactly how I want it. Hardy is fucking me hard, holding my legs high in the air. Owen is sliding his cock between my lips faster and I’m mewling and squirming for both of them.
I grip Hardy’s cock tight inside me, making him fuck me harder. Owen’s cock twitches in my mouth and Hardy’s throbs inside me. Both of them cum at the same time. Each of them fill me with their warm seed and it’s too much for me. I can’t hold back a second longer, I growl loudly as my body tightens with my orgasm.
The guys pull free from my body and pull me off the counter. They walk me to the bedroom and lie me down between them.
“You’re ours now,” Hardy murmurs. “Got it?”
“I got it,” I snuggle between them lazily. Feeling completely at home.
Because I am home. This is where I belong. And this is where I’ll stay.
Epilogue
My fingers dance over the keyboard as the chaos of our house plays like background music for me in the living room. I pause, allowing myself to swim up from the world I’m creating in my book and resurface for air. As I look away from the screen and tilt my head and listen, I can hear my twin boys chasing each other around and laughing.
It’s like my senses return to me, they sharpen back up from the dull, distant state they go into while I’m writing. The house gets louder, my stomach growls as the smell of supper wafts in under my nose, reminding me what time it is.
“Daddy?” Our little princess, Sophia’s sweet voice cuts through the insanity her older brothers are causing.
“Yeah?” I hear Owen answer her.
“Nobody will pway pwincess wif me.” She sniffles.
I don’t need to be in the other room to know how she’s looking up at him with her big blue eyes tugging at his heartstrings.
“Aww, honey. I wish I could play princesses with you, but I can’t. I’m in the middle of cooking supper. Maybe your brothers will play?”
It’s easy to hear from the way my five-year-old boys are roaring and squealing that there’s zero chance that will happen.
“Papa, can you pway?” Sophia tries again with Hardy.
“Princesses?” he grumbles.
“Pweeeease?”
“Oh, okay. What do I have to do?”
I can hear the absolute joy bubbling over in her voice as she gives her two-year-old version of the rules.
A smile kisses my lips and my eyes turn back to my computer screen. My arm drapes over my big belly as I read the words I’ve been working on this afternoon. I’ve been so busy trying to get this one last book done before our world becomes pure insanity. With our next baby due in less than three months, there isn’t much time left to get it done.
My readers have been very supportive of my need to take time off for maternity over the years. Of course, they understand better than anyone since I’m living what I’m writing, a busy, beautiful life that comes from keeping a three-way relationship with two men.
It took a long damned time to give up on my old books and realize that those words weren’t coming to me anymore for a reason. They had dried up inside me because that wasn’t who I was anymore. Owen and Hardy changed something inside me. Or, maybe they just helped me finally put my finger on what the problem had been the entire time I had my writer’s block.
My agent sent me up here to live what I write. I just don’t think she ever had any way of knowing how much that would change my life, not to mention my books. Six years later, I’ve clawed my way back to the top of the charts, but this time with MFM romances that give my readers a little taste of what it’s like to live this life. And I guess they like it because sales are through the roof. It seems like I wasn’t the only one starving for something more.
