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"Almost there, babe," Kylo's thrusts became erratic as he sought our mutual undoing.
"Let go, Averill," Ansel coaxed, his voice a deep baritone that resonated inside my chest. "We've got you."
I was close, so damn close. The city might have been a swirling mass of shadows and secrets outside, but there, in that room, the only thing that mattered was the heat of their skin against mine, the strength of their arms holding me, and the promise of an ecstasy that would surely wash away every last scar etched into my soul.
The world narrowed down to the raw pulse of pleasure, a torrent about to break free. I could almost hear the darkened skies of New York outside our window, whispering for me to let go, to surrender to the storm inside.
"Christ, you're—" Kylo cut off with a grunt as I clenched around him, drawing him deeper into the velvet of my body.
"Good?" A smirk curled my lips even as my vision started to blur.
"Perfect," they both said in unison, like their souls were synced or some shit.
The tension coiled tighter inside me, a spring wound to its limit. My breaths came in ragged pants that matched the erratic beat of their cocks inside me, their thrusts turning desperate, seeking that edge.
I shattered. The climax ripped through me in a cataclysmic wave that dragged cries from my throat that drowned out the city's ballade. They followed, a duo of release that filled me with their cum, their strength, their everything.
"Fuck... Averill..." Kylo's voice was a rough whisper.
"Beautiful," Ansel breathed out in the aftermath of our shared whirlwind.
We collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and satisfaction, the bed a makeshift raft adrift in the aftermath of our storm. My breaths came heavy and mingled with theirs in a rhythm slowed to lazy drifts. The room held the electric charge of what we'd done, the air thick with the scent of sex and secrets.
"Rain check on any more witty comebacks," I murmured, the effort too much when every inch of me thrummed with satisfaction.
Lying there, with Kylo's chest pressed against my back and Ansel's arm draped over my waist, I was caught on an emotional rollercoaster.
"Never thought... you'd surrender, Averill," Kylo muttered. His breath was warm on my neck and tickled the tiny hairs there.
"Guess it's true what they say about there being a first time for everything."
"Or two," Ansel smirked and his fingers traced idle patterns on my hip. "You okay?"
I let out a snort, because what else could I do when faced with the epitome of male concern post-earth-shattering sex? "I'm lying here sandwiched between Captain planet and Detective Beefcake. How could I not be?"
"Detective Beefcake, huh?" Kylo murmured and amusement laced his tone as he nuzzled into my hair. "I think I can live with that one."
"Should get it printed on your badge," I suggested and tried to ignore the way my heart did somersaults. "No wait! T-shirts."
Their hands, still moving with a tenderness that left scorch marks on my skin, didn't help my whirlwind of emotions. Their touch was a promise, one I wasn't sure I was ready to keep, even as my body sang its agreement with every caress.
Maybe I was crazy for letting them in, for letting myself fall into this unconventional setup, but as the rain continued to fall and their steady breathing lulled me toward sleep, I couldn't deny the simple truth: for the first time in forever, I felt like I wasn't facing the world alone. And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
Chapter
Seventeen
Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains of Ansel's dining room and cast a warm glow over the spread of breakfast that was more a display of hedonism than a meal. Fresh fruits glistened beside an assortment of pastries and exotic cheeses, while the rich scent of fresh coffee hung in the air like an intoxicating promise. As I sat at the table with Ansel and Kylo, my appetite wasn't for food; it was for them. The memories of last night's tangled bodies and fevered moans clung to me tighter than the silk robe I'd thrown on.
"Pass the sugar, would you, Averill?" Ansel's voice sliced through my daydream. I obliged mechanically and my fingers brushed against his as I did. My mind, however, feasted on a different kind of breakfast—one where I was sprawled across this exact table, legs wide open, their mouths taking turns sending waves of pleasure coursing through my clit instead of nibbling on these fucking French croissants.
"Thinking about dessert already?" Kylo's smirk cut deeper than any knife could carve the fancy butter that sat on the table between us. He knew exactly where my thoughts were, the bastard.
"Only if it's served hot and comes in two servings," I smirked back hungrily.
My gaze flickered between them as I set down my coffee cup with a deliberate clink. "What's our next play for catching Oswin Yorke?"
Ansel leaned back, the picture of casual confidence. "Actually, I have a lead. Oswin's got a job tonight at 'Le Etoile'—that five-star place downtown."
