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Scotty’s eyes welled with tears. Something about those words, about the way Zander said them, hit him in the middle of his chest.
“You’re perfect,” Zander rasped, voice shaking as his hips sped up. “So fucking perfect.”
The reverence in his voice made Scotty feel precious. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Vince’s hand reached between them and circled Scotty’s dick, jerking him in time to Zander’s thrusts. All Scotty could do was cry out, a hand on Vince’s hip to steady himself, to brace as Zander fucked him hard and deep and Vince pulled on his cock until he lost all his senses. Until something snapped inside him.
Then he was coming, sobbing.
He heard Zander swear, then he tore himself away from Scotty’s clenching ass. Vince’s touch disappeared just before another cock was breaching his entrance. Scotty lifted his lashes to find Vince between his thighs, nails digging into Scotty’s hips as he pounded into him.
Zander’s head was bent between them, his?—
“Fuck!” Scotty screamed when Zander’s lips closed around his cock head, swallowing his cum. He grabbed Zander’s head, bucking viciously as Vince fucked him.
Scotty felt stretched, owned, cherished even. They wore him out, those two men, as they gave him more than he could’ve ever imagined. Every touch, every kiss, every soothing whisper.
They fucked him, wrung him dry until it became too much. “I can’t—Please. Please.”
Only then did Zander release him, lifting his head. Vince pulled out of him, too, and then they were kneeling on either side of Scotty’s head, their shafts in hand, stroking, jerking themselves. He reached for them, taking their cocks in each hand, muscles protesting as he helped them jerk off. He struggled to sit up a bit, to lean forward and take first Zander and then Vince into his mouth.
Scotty’s ears rang with the sounds they made—sounds of pleasure. Pleasure he gave. He stroked and sucked until his jaw hurt, until his everything was sore, and then as if his men had choreographed it, they pushed him back onto the pillows, holding his shoulders down as they stroked their cocks furiously.
Cum spurted onto his face, neck, and chest. Eyes closed, he opened his mouth, their cream spilling onto his tongue, hitting his nose and forehead. His body jerked, another orgasm tearing his body apart until he was boneless.
Vince and Zander collapsed against him.
Mouths, hands. They tore at Scotty as the other two licked him, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, tongue swiping down his throat and gliding over his collarbone. He was barely lucid, half dead from all the pleasure, but he clung to them as they cleaned up the mess they’d made of him, a wobbly smile on his face.
23
Zander remained in bed with Vince and Scotty for as long as he could, indulging in all the ways three bodies could fit together. By the time the heavy pounding came on the locked bedroom door, he was exhausted, body bruised and humming in only the best ways.
He didn’t want to leave.
The way Vince and Scotty stiffened next to him, they didn’t want him to leave either. But they couldn’t remain hidden in the bedroom acting as if the real world and all its problems didn’t exist.
Inhaling deeply, he hugged them close—they’d somehow ended up with Zander in the middle again, with each man on either side of him—pressing his lips to first Vince’s temple, then Scotty’s.
Something in his chest tore at the realization that this was it. He couldn’t see them anymore, wouldn’t be able to touch them, kiss them, ensure they were alright. How was he supposed to do that? How was he supposed to get on with his life as if they didn’t own him?
Scotty clung to him as Zander met Vince’s eyes. There were lots of things they didn’t voice because what was the point? After today, he and Vince would once again be on opposite sides. Vince pressed his lips together and Zander grabbed the back of his neck, leaning over to press their foreheads together.
“I wish things were different,” he murmured. But that was all he could do…wish.
Vince nodded mutely.
“Take care of him,” Zander rasped. “Take care of each other.”
“I will,” Vince choked out, then his hands were on Zander, cupping his jaw, lips on his brow, his nose. “Don’t die.” His hand shook against Zander’s face. “Please.” His voice cracked.
Zander had only had Derri to worry about him and even that had been…a different kind of thing because Derri was hardened by the life they led and the things they’d done. His love for Zander was just as hard and battered, sandpaper rough. Derri had never shown fear for Zander’s life. But now fear stared back at him when he gazed down at the two men in his arms. They worried for him in an entirely different way—soft and pure but somehow still managing to shatter him—and Zander just wanted to gather them close and never leave that bed.
The knock came again: insistent, impatient.
Their time, as short and unexpected as it’d been, was up.
He didn’t linger this time. He pressed a hard kiss to Vince’s lips, murmuring, “I’ll be fine.” Then he turned to Scotty, who made no show of hiding his emotions. His eyes were red, and the tip of his nose was too. Zander kissed him, nuzzled his throat, then yanked himself away, rolling off the bed.
They watched him in silence, curled around each other, as he got dressed. He yanked the door open. Of course Derri stood there, not bothering to hide his scowl.
