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Jesus Christ, she’s trying to fucking kill me.My title on her lips, her begging for my cum, to taste me—I can barely contain myself from blowing all over her stomach. Libido restored.
“You want my cum, Little Storm? My filthy slut needs to taste me?”
She nods emphatically. “Please.”
I guide her hand along my cock. With as little strain to her as possible, we work together to bring me to my peak, which only takes a few beats. Her other hand kneads my balls, a zing aching within them until I hover above her, my dick sliding into the rapture of her lips and tongue.
“Jesus, you’re a goddamn fantasy, Ives. So beautiful,” I trill.
She swirls and licks and sucks me deep into her throat, gagging and slurping with a prideful gleam as I shoot over a month’s worth of yearning into her warmth.
“Fuck, baby. My perfect girl. Swallow me down. Every drop.”
She obeys with a sultry purr, and I flop to the bed beside her, smashing my mouth to hers in a kiss that is less gentle than it should be, but this woman owns my soul, and I can’t restrain myself from showing her. The cocktail of our mixed arousals glazes my tongue in a sweet and salty tang of sedate possessiveness.
I mold her body to mine, basking in a too-fleeting cuddle before eventually peeling away to dress. Once we’re both presentable, she climbs up my body, hanging on to me like a needy spider monkey.
“All the guys are anxious to see you,” I tell her.
She doesn’t let go, so I carry her out to them, hooked on to me. When she spots Liam, she gasps and cries, trembling in my arms once again, and like a parent handing over a sick child, I have no choice but to pass her into his embrace. She sobs into his neck as he holds her, and I let my jealousy thaw into the tenderness of what this is. Ivy is mine, but her huge heart loves these men. They’re part of her as much as they’re part of me.
And she’s engraved on their makeup, like she’s engraved on mine.
After our release from the SEALs, we were so wounded, so callous and brittle. From the moment we found her, Ivy was a symbol of hope for all of us at a time when we had nothing but each other. First, she represented a life of aspirations and fortune. But soon, we fell for her smile and antics and vivacity. Her sharp wit and feisty spirit. Captivating even from afar. She meant something different to each of us over the years, but she flourished before our eyes until she wasn’t merely a symbol of a better life; she was the embodiment of dreams. Of more. Especially once she was standing among us.
They might not realize it, but Ivy is the healing balm, opening us all up to a life with love. Because of her, they may finally be readyto let someone penetrate the armor they’ve carefully constructed after years of unfathomable loss so they can each enjoy a connection, like Ivy and I share.
Liam palms her head, his eyes closing as he breathes her in. His lips nuzzle her temple with calming words that don’t boil my blood because I know she needs to hear them as much as he needs to voice them. “I’m okay. I’m so sorry, Ivy. You did so good. So strong and smart, baby girl.”
“I thought you were …unalived,” she whimpers against him, seemingly unwilling to validate the grief she’s endured with the worddead.
“I know.” He strings his fingers through her wet hair, gingerly, aware of her abrasions. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you. The way you funneled money from our accounts, strung us along, and found your parents. You’re brutal.”
She hooks her arms snugger behind his neck with a wince and a sniff. “I love you, Liam. You’re my family, forever and always.”
His eyes flit to mine as he says, “Right back at ya, High Society. You’re worth so much more.”
And suddenly, his nickname for her makes sense. It isn’t that she was raised with money; it’s because, like the highest denomination of chips at a casino—a high society—she’s worth more than anyone. Not monetarily, but simply because she’s better than all of us. He doesn’t love her like I do, but he does love her. After a lifetime of him never being welcomed into a family, Ivy adopted Liam to be part of hers. That’s a gift, a bond they’ll always share. And while the thought of his lips on hers still evokes visions of me slowly dismembering him, I can accept that they’re family.My family.
Ty swoops in, and again like a parent passing a child, Liam places her into his arms as tears cascade over her flushed cheeks.
Ty hugs her snugly against him. “Fuck, Freckles. I missed you so much. You went all Lara Croft on me.”
She giggles against his shoulder. “Low-hanging fruit, as always. But I heard you had overwatch, like Dane fromNavy Seals. We couldstart calling you God.” He laughs and kisses her hair as she continues, “I missed you too, Ty. Thanks for showing up for me.”
He tightens his hold, one arm snaked around her waist, the other squeezing her neck. “That’s not a reason to thank me, Ivy. You’re ours. We’ll always be here for you. Always show up. In fact, I doubt you’ll ever be out of our sight again.”
She puffs a breath of relief with that astute promise, no longer caged by the idea of us hovering, but comforted by the bond.
Gage is gruff and irritated, awaiting his turn, peeling her away from Ty with an impatient grumble. Herpint-sizedfingers latch on to his shirt.
“That shit was fucked up, Ivy, but legendary. You’re my hero, girl.”
“Look at you,pussy-worshipping, Big Guy,” she teases with a wry grin.
Gage chuckles. “Let’s just say, you’ve renewed my faith, angel. You won’t ever run from us again. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she quips.
