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“You want to come, princess? Say Raffiel, please make me come like a good girl.”
Gritting my teeth, I glare at him before giving in, needing to come too badly to care. “Raffiel, please make me come like a good girl.”
“That’s all you had to say.” He winks before dropping his mouth back to my pussy and attacking me. His fingers thrust into me and curl, and his lips wrap around my clit and suck so hard, I actually jerk.
Within seconds, I’m screaming my release, grinding it into his face as I come. The strength of the orgasm has me shaking and writhing below him as it rolls through me repeatedly until I finally slump. Chuckling, he laps up my cream, cleaning me before sitting up.
“The best breakfast I’ve ever had.” He winks. “Now it’s time to start the day.”
He climbs from the bed and peers down at me with a sardonic smile. “Good morning, Miss Harrow.” Without another word, naked and hard, he walks out of my room, leaving me drenched in my own cum and sweat and wondering what the hell just happened.
I fall back with a groan, covering my face. This is crossing so many lines. I never let anyone sleep in my bed, not after Tucker, yet here I am. I can’t even be mad. They are in my house, and they are cooking me food. They have seen me at my strongest and weakest, and they are still here and want me.
They are paid to protect me, sure, but it’s more than that. This is more than a normal, new relationship or whatever the hell this is. It’s so much more. Living with someone lets you get to know them that much quicker, and it feels like I’ve been with them months instead of weeks. I’m never lonely anymore, and they are there when I’m worried or needy. They laugh and joke with me.
It’s a true relationship, but with four people.
How the hell does that even work?
I’ve never been traditional, but fuck, and thinking about it is giving me a headache. Sliding from the bed and nearly falling on shaky legs, I stumble to the bathroom. I won’t give him the pleasure of coming back to tell me they are waiting for me twice. The smug bastard.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone get close after Tucker, but it seems these four men don’t give a fuck about that or any walls I build.
They are smashing them down, and I don’t know what will be left once they do.
* * *
I shower quickly, washing my hair and feeling somewhat vulnerable without makeup. Wearing just an oversized shirt, I pad downstairs. I expect recrimination, judgment, or maybe anger since they all know what Raff and I were doing, but when I enter the kitchen, I’m met by nothing but happy smiles.
Music pours from the radio, smooth and soft, and bacon sizzles in a pan where Cillian and Dal are working together, cooking eggs, bagels, and sausages. Astro comes over, kissing my cheek as he hands me coffee. “Morning, beautiful.” He winks as he heads back to set the table where Raff sits with a tablet before him, but his eyes are for me.
His gaze is hard, as if he expects me to run and is ready to chase me.
I remind myself that this is just sex, nothing else. Nothing more. Not even if they are in my house cooking breakfast. “Morning,” I tell them, smiling softly as I head to the kitchen table. I can’t remember the last time this kitchen was used for cooking before they arrived, never mind eating at the table, but here we are. They bring life into this home. Even when Tucker was here, it almost always felt empty, but not anymore, and I refuse to look too closely at why that makes me smile.
Bringing one knee up, I balance the coffee there as I watch Cillian and Dal work together. Astro moves behind me and starts massaging my shoulders, his big hands working into the tension there as I close my eyes and tip my head back to rest it against his chest.
I should tell him to stop.
I’ll tell him after he kneads out the sore muscles. When I open my eyes once more, all of them are staring at me. Swallowing my need, I clear my throat. “I was thinking that I would work on my music in the downstairs studio today, then maybe go out for dinner, show my face and all that.”
Raffiel smiles at me as if I did something worthy of his praise, and I shudder at the look, remembering the way it was between my thighs last night and this morning.
It’s only then I realize I asked his opinion and I want to curse myself, but I can’t take it back without making him realize I know what I did.
“Sounds great,” Raffiel responds with that slow smile.
Since when did I start asking permission?
Fuck that, I won’t make the same mistake again.
My anger quickly softens as they bring food over, and we tuck in. Unlike before, where I watched them with each other, I find myself joining in on the conversation and even laughing at their jokes. It’s nice. I like this friendship dynamic, even though we aren’t just friends, are we?
I have to admit, it makes my home feel like more of a home and less of a prison. What must it be like to always have each other? To always have someone at your back? I guess I’m finding out and I like it. They are always in my corner, ready to protect me and fight my battles, but also not trying to control or change me.
Tucker struggled with that, often telling me to calm down or to think through my actions and how they would reflect on him and his brand. Not them, they simply embrace who I am and seem to like it, even my extremes.
I’m still so confused. I promised myself no relationships, and look where I am. This isn’t a one-night stand or even friends with benefits. This has other complications, but I can’t seem to stop myself when it comes to these four.
