Trouble : Boston Bolts Hockey

Track 7

COME & GET IT

Declan told me to get comfortable while he went to shower, so instead of watching the water sluice down his body like I envisioned, I’m in my room, slipping on a black cropped camisole and boy shorts. I put my hair up in a messy bun, pinch my cheeks, and stare at the girl in the mirror.

I barely recognize her. I was so naïve when I left for Nashville twelve years ago. Jason was my brother’s best friend. Four years older than me. And as soon as I made it, he was there. Every step of the way.

What I once saw as support, I now realize, was control.

And I want the control back.

I want to feel comfortable in my body. Comfortable asking for the things that bring me pleasure.

A soft knock has me straightening and sucking in a breath. “Come in.”

When Declan pushes open the door and hovers at the threshold, I practically choke on my tongue. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs his chest, highlighting the hills and valleys of muscle that lie beneath it. He’s all man, far older than me, and so sexy it’s sinful. With dark, conflicted eyes. “Still want me to show you how to use the rope?”

There’s a hint of hopefulness in his question, like maybe he’s hoping I say no. Or maybe he’s just prepared himself for rejection in the event that I do.

I step up to him, and the smell of his shampoo—something with cedar in it—has me closing my eyes and inhaling. I can’t help but splay a palm over his chest as I peer up at him. “God, you smell good.”

His cheeks go pink under my praise.

Pressing up against him, I run my nose up the soft scruff of his chin. I brush my lips over his jaw, my mouth watering at the possibilities in front of us, and give him the tiniest of kisses. It’s nowhere near what I really want, but it sends the message. “And yes, I still want you to teach me.”

Declan remains rigid, lowering just his eyes to regard me. “You like playing games with me, Melina?”

There’s a breathlessness to his tone. Or maybe it’s just my breath he’s stolen. Because yes, I really would like to play games with this man.

Rather than answer, I take a step back, giving him room to breathe. “Where to?”

Declan thumbs down the hall, toward the living room. “I already have the phone set up so Cade can watch.”

A frisson of need fires through me so urgently that I have to bite down on my lip to keep a whimper from escaping.

“So he knows what to do next time,” he clarifies.

With a smirk, I strut past him. “Sure,” I call over my shoulder. “That’s exactly what he’s watching for.”

“Melina.”

Dropping my chin to my chest, I fight back a laugh. Why is his aggravated growl so damn sexy?

“Should we have a drink?” A little alcohol would go a long way in settling my nerves.

I’m rounding the bar when Declan says, “Better if you’re sober for this. But I’ll grab a couple bottles of water. Go relax on the couch.”

Butterflies dance in my stomach as he heads to the kitchen, all swagger. The impressive part? He’s not trying. This isn’t an act. He’s the type of man who just exists in this world. Every move he makes is out of necessity. Simple. He doesn’t put a single thought into what he looks like to others.

My every move is choreographed, planned. At least it feels that way. In the beginning, I suppose it was necessary. To attract an audience, to build a fanbase. Then, even in my personal life, each step was measured to ensure I wouldn’t upset Jason. So that I’d be attractive enough for him. A sway of my hips, a flirty gesture. If he knew it was for him, I’d be rewarded, but god forbid he believe I’d done it when he wasn’t around. If he caught wind of any moment that could be construed that way, he’d lose his mind and tell me that all I cared about was the fame. That I’d chase it at the cost of my own purity. I’d sexualize myself to sell music.

It was all bullshit, but he stuck to it, and after a while, my family joined in on the nonsense. First my brother, then my own mother.

Now I have no one. No family.

Though I do have Lake—and now Ford.

And this week, I’ve had Declan. A man I can’t imagine losing.

I’m still lost in thought when I realize he’s standing in front of me. Blinking back to reality, I take in his stoic expression.

Without a word, he hands me the water and nods, silently urging me to take a drink. Once I’ve recapped the bottle, he sets it on the table. Then he settles himself beside it, directly across from me. “I need to tell you something, and it may change your mind.”

Despite his serious nature, I smile. “I highly doubt that.”

Declan frowns. “Earlier, you asked me how I felt safe again. I don’t mind sharing this with you, but you need to know you’re safe.”

His words sober me immediately, and I feel the claw of anxiety taking hold. “Declan.”

He holds up his hand, asking me to just listen. “I know the reason you snuck out of the house to go to the game without talking to me—and the reason you left to get snacks at the concession stand rather than just ordering them from the attendant.”

I swallow, suddenly feeling far more on display than my tiny scraps of clothing leave me. “You do?”

Declan nods. “You felt caged. While we just wanted to protect you, I understand that it felt stifling to have your every move under scrutiny.”

A whoosh of relief hits me. I’ve never felt so understood. I try not to get emotional, though, because that’s not what I want to think about tonight. The Worst Human Alive doesn’t deserve anymore of my thoughts.

“I want you to know that I want you here, and you are welcome to stay for as long as you want—” His words catch me off guard, and I brace for him to say something I won’t like. “But you don’t have to stay here to be safe. You aren’t being watched. You are free to walk out that door, and you’d be safe. I promise.”

How can anyone promise that? And why do I instinctually believe him? For so long, I’ve trusted no one. At least not completely. And yet I trust him.

“How?”

“He’s under surveillance around the clock. Right now, he’s in the hospital, but eventually he’ll get better. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and tell you that the charges will stick. Things happen.” Declan squeezes his fists. “But he will not take a step out of that hospital without being followed. His every move will be tracked. And they’ll make it obvious. He’ll be uncomfortable. He doesn’t get to walk around free.”

I’m not sure anyone has ever done something so kind, so selfless, and so monumental for me. Money isn’t endless for firefighters—at least I don’t get the impression it is—so I have no doubt this arrangement wasn’t a simple matter for him. To hand over a bunch of cash to a security firm to make someone’s life miserable? Ford could do that for Lake. Hell, I could do that for myself. But this is so much more than throwing money at a problem. This took effort on Declan’s part. And if I had to bet, he had to swallow his pride and ask his brother-in-law for help.

It’s the second time he’s done it for me, and I don’t take it lightly. But I also don’t know how to express how much it means to me without breaking into tears. And I don’t want to break tonight. So with my chin held high, I meet his eye, trying to tell him without words that his gift—one he keeps giving to me, the gift of feeling safe enough to walk out this door—is one I’m incredibly grateful for.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can get out.

Declan merely nods. “Like I said, you don’t have to do this. If you change your mind⁠—”

“I won’t.”

Jaw clenched, he gives a simple nod. Then he reaches behind him and produces three ropes. One is black, one is red, and one is a deep green.

He hands me the green one. As I really take it in, my stomach does a swoop. I swear it’s the color of my eyes.

“It’s softer than the one in your office,” I say as I run my hand against the silky material. “And god, it smells good.” I lift it to my nose and inhale to get a better hit of the scent.

“It’s the oils. To soften and prep it.”

“I’d love to watch you do that one day.”

Declan nods. “Does it feel okay? I’d like to use that one, as long as you’re good with it.”

Warmth spreads through me, the sensation full of genuine affection for this man. “It’s perfect.”

He flushes again, this time the color creeping up his throat, along his Adam’s apple. The sight is so damn sexy.

“I’ll get Cade on the phone.” Abruptly, he stands and unlocks the device.

This is it. He’s dialing his best friend. The man I’m dating is about to watch Declan tie me up.

Nerves skitter down my spine. What must Cade be thinking?

Maybe it’s odd that I didn’t immediately go to the bedroom and call him when we got home. But for some reason, that felt like betraying Declan. I want this to be about the three of us. Not Cade and me plotting to get Declan to do what we want.

The FaceTime call connects, and Cade’s image fills the screen. My entire body heats instantly. God, it’s ridiculous how much I like this guy. How one smile from him lights me up inside. His existence alone makes me happy in a way that can’t be explained.

“Hey, Trouble,” he drawls as he settles against a headboard in what I imagine is his bedroom.

“Hey, Coach.”

With a lift of his chin, he chuckles. “Tonight, our coach is there with you.” He eyes Declan. “You all set?”

The stoic man standing only a few feet away turns to me. The weight of his attention is heavy, intense. Like he can see into my soul. He has a way of always knowing what I need, and so far, he’s been more than willing to give it to me.

Many people can read cues and infer a person’s needs, see when they’re hurting or helpless. But most turn away from that uncomfortable moment, either too in their own heads to take the time to help or just uninterested in doing so.

Declan doesn’t possess the ability to not care. Regardless of his mood, I can all but guarantee if he comes across someone in need, he’ll do what he can to help.

And if he can do it without recognition? Even better.

Because that’s who he is.

And somehow, I’m lucky enough to revel in it. I get to witness him in action. My heart clenches each time I look at this strong, silent man. He opened up to me, shared his burdens and his traumas. I don’t take any of this lightly.

“Before we get started,” he says, “I need to know that you trust me, and I need to trust you to tell me if the rope gets too tight, if your arms or legs start to tingle, if you get dizzy. If you notice anything that is out of sorts at all, Melina, you need to tell me.”

Chest aching at his sincerity, I nod. “I trust you, and you can trust me. I won’t lie to you. Ever.”

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he nods. “Good.”

“What about a safe word?” I say, my words infused with humor, in hopes of lightening the mood.

Cade chuckles. “Always the troublemaker.”

“Your safe word is stop,” Declan says coolly. “I won’t do anything that hurts you. You tell me you want me to stop, and everything ceases.”

When Cade and I are silent in response, Declan drapes the rope over both palms and holds it in front of him. “This isn’t about a kink. It’s not a game.” He pauses, zeroing in on me. “Doesn’t mean it can’t be enjoyable. That I can’t find ways to make it”—he darts a look at Cade, then focuses on me again—“pleasurable. So long as we maintain a healthy respect for limits. You could get very hurt if we’re not careful. It’s simpler than safe words. You say stop, and I stop. We’ll use colors for everything else.”

“Colors?” Cade asks, his voice tinny through the phone.

Declan keeps his attention fixed on me. “Green means you like what I’m doing,” he says, his deep timbre rolling through me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end. “Yellow if you’re too close to the edge.”

What edge? I want to ask, but I’m afraid to speak. I’m locked in his spell, and I don’t want to be freed. If my assumption is correct, the edge he’s referring to is the one I’m desperate to be hurtling toward.

“What about red?” Cade asks.

This time Declan does glance at the phone, but an instant later, he’s got me caught in his snare again. “If she says red, we stop everything. Good or bad, you say red, we end it.”

Good or bad what? Once again, I’m too eager to get started to bother asking for clarification. I know to say stop, and that’s enough for me. Everything else? I’m elated at the knowledge that any of it is even on the table.

“Most basic designs use a simple knot called the single column tie.” Declan uncoils the rope and lets it dangle in front of him so we can watch as he slowly demonstrates the steps and then ties it off, creating what quite literally looks like a column.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I angle forward, studying each step as he does it again. With each knot he makes with the rope, his breathing eases, and the tension in his posture and in his expression dissipates.

“How did you learn this?” I ask, watching him work.

His cheeks are pink above his scruff as he peers over at me. “YouTube videos, books. There’s a lot of information out there. If you can sort out the more kink-based things and narrow it down to technique, there’s not a ton, but Shawn helped me find stuff to help with my anxiety.”

On the phone screen, Cade is wearing a perplexed frown. It’s clearly all new information for him. Now is not the time to get Declan to open up to Cade, but eventually⁠—

“Would you like me to try it on you?” Declan asks, cutting off my thoughts.

“Yes, sir.”

He lets out a low, pleased hum in response. He’s focused on undoing the knots he’s created, but there’s no denying someone is watching me. I turn to Cade and find him leaning forward, looking from me to Declan and back again. As if my answer pleases him even more than it pleases Declan. He’s fixated on me now, his gaze intoxicating.

The heat in my core simmers on low, bolstering my courage. “Should I remove my clothing?”

It’s a mechanical way to ask, but I can’t help but wonder if it’ll make things easier for Declan.

He peers at me through his lashes again, as if I surprised him. Then his lips twitch and tip up in a cocky smirk. “No.”

“No?” Disappointment washes over me. The hunger I feel for this man is unreal.

He kneels in front of me, pushing my knees wide with his sturdy body, and brushes back a lock of hair that has fallen out of my messy bun. With each long, steady exhale, his minty breath skates across my skin, sending goose bumps prickling over my chest and down my spine. From this close, I can count his black lashes as they flutter. Feel the rapid beat of his pulse. When he swallows, I’m fixated on the way his throat works. Blinking, I drag my gaze up to his face and settle on his lips.

He’s mesmerizing.

A tantalizing dichotomy of a man. To the world at large, he’s hard, rough. Yet with me, he’s soft. Kneeling at my feet.

“Only I undress you.” His fingers dance across my jaw and down my neck, sending sparks flying in their wake. “I take care of you.” He slips a thumb beneath the strap of my camisole and tugs. “I please you.”

Dipping my chin, I watch as he slips the strap down my arm.

It’s barely a touch, barely a caress, and yet the gratification it gives me is enough to have me sucking in a breath like he just sank inside me.

He does the same thing on the other side, his tongue swiping at his lip as if he’s trying not to dip down and lick me. God, do I want him to.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” That simple, strained phrase reminds me that we’re not alone. Cade is watching the way he touches me too. He’s moved even closer to his screen, as if he’s desperate to dive through it. His pupils are blown out, and by the way he shifts, it’s clear he’s adjusting himself. He’s turned on.

I understand it, because I feel it too. I’m so wet I’m going to embarrass myself if Declan truly does undress me. He’ll see the evidence of what he does to me.

I think I want him to.

Ghosting his fingers over my forearms, Declan garners my attention again. “Give me a color.”

“Green.”

Lips curling up, he slips his hands down my arms and over the fabric that covers my belly. “Lift your arms.”

I obey, and he gently pulls the camisole over my head. He doesn’t throw it like I imagine Cade would, desperate to focus on my breasts, which are now practically in his face. No, Declan folds the shirt and then places it on the cushion next to me. His movements are slow and deliberate. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he returns his focus to me, his eyes locked with mine, and pushes back so he’s balancing on his toes, his knees no longer on the ground. He brings his right hand to my ankle and squeezes, then slips it up my inner calf. “Still green?”

“Yes,” I whisper, though it comes out more like a plea.

The smile Declan gives me isn’t big, but it’s full of satisfaction.

My stomach whooshes spectacularly at the knowledge that I’ve pleased him again. When both of his hands have reached my inner thighs, I tremble. Before he can be concerned about me, though, I breathe out, “Still green.”

Humming, he skates his fingertips against my boy shorts. Then he leans in close, flattening his palms on my thighs and inhales deeply.

“Fuck,” Cade whispers.

Declan looks over his shoulder. “She smells delicious.”

“I know.” Cade’s response is smug. “She tastes even better.”

I’m going out of my mind with want. It takes all I have not to squirm, not to clutch his hair and bring him closer. Will he taste me? Lick me? Make me come?

Declan sets those warm brown eyes on me, his expression heated and his breathing a little quicker. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes.” The sound is more like a moan than a word.

When he finds my waistband and pulls them off, he does it with a gentle ease, sliding them down my legs and off one foot, then the other. Rather than fold them neatly and set them aside like he did with the shirt, he fists the fabric roughly and brings it to his nose.

“Fuck.” It’s a low growl. With my wet panties still in his hand, he locks eyes with me. “This because of me, Melina?”

The simmering heat in my belly ignites, creating a flame that heats my skin. Why do I like my name so much better when it comes from his lips?

“You know it is.”

Eyes closed now, he inhales once more. Then he turns jerkily and drops them onto the coffee table behind him. He’s so turned on that, for a moment, he’s lost his sense of patience. His meticulous need to have everything in order.

Turning back, he rakes his gaze over me, taking in my spread legs and my breasts as they rise and fall with every rough breath I take. The oxygen burns in my lungs. As I wait for what’s next. As I’m frozen in place, worried that if I move, I’ll break the spell and discover this was all a dream. Or that I’ll shift, and he’ll realize I’m dripping on his couch. That he’ll see disorder and be unable to help but put things to rights rather than continue this game.

Instead, he licks his lips and shakes his head. “By the time I’m finished with you, there’ll be a puddle.”

His eyes flutter shut, and he takes a steadying breath. After he’s let it out in a slow stream, he regards me again, his eyes clearer, more focused. “Still green?”

I nod.

“Okay, I’m going to tie you up now.”

The smile that splits my face is uncontrollable. It’s all I want. To be under his control. In his care. With him, I’m safe, and I hope that by giving him that power, I’ll find that I can let go of my fear.

It’s almost contradictory, yet I believe with my whole being that his care and comfort will allow me to shed the unease and anxiety that have become my constant companions.

Declan slides the smooth green rope across my thighs first, the sensation sending a shiver through me. “Just getting you used to the feel of it,” he says, his tone low but smooth.

He does it once more, then he begins to work. He’s quiet, his focus set completely on the rope as he snakes it around my thigh. It’s not what I expected at all. From the moment he showed me that jute in his office, I’ve envisioned him tying my hands behind my back or above my head. I suppose that misconception goes along with what he mentioned about kinks.

As he works, the design becomes clearer: one rope, then another, woven in and out; the columns he creates; the gorgeous contrast of the dark green rope against my skin. When he reaches my waist, he looks up at me. “Do you trust me?”

I nod. “Completely.”

He asks that same question every few minutes as he continues to work. He reminds me I’m safe with him. Tests the pressure of each knot. Asks for my color. It’s always green. The sensation of the rope against my skin is decadent, comforting, tightening around me like one of his hugs. Especially when he leans over me, his breath against my neck, as he continues to create new designs. Connecting one rope to the next until I’m a kaleidoscope of colors and designs. Tied up and bound like an offering for him.

When he’s finished, he assesses me, his eyes swimming with pride and pleasure. The ever-present tension in his jaw and shoulders has subsided. It’s clear to me now, what he meant when he said this helps him focus and eases his anxiety. Helps him find his own control.

He holds out his hand. “Come with me.”

I slip my palm against his, surprised that I can move so easily, and stand. The ropes confine my body, not my movement. The restraint lends comfort without taking away any of my abilities.

Silently, he picks up the phone. Cade is quiet too. Both men are focused on me. On the way Declan is choreographing the interaction. He guides me to a mirror hanging on the wall near the dining room table and places the phone on the mantel so Cade still has a full view.

Stepping behind me, he cups my shoulders and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Do you see how beautiful you are?”

Try as I might to focus on his work—that’s what he wants, and he deserves my obedience—I can’t. Though I’m naked, he’s still in his black T-shirt and boxer briefs. I’m desperate to please him, so I try again, but it’s no use. Then his words from earlier hit me.

I need to know that you trust me, and I need to trust you.

I promised then that I’d never lie to him.

I’m in charge. He’s made that abundantly clear. He wants to bring me pleasure.

“I need you to take your shirt off,” I say, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

Declan’s lips curve into a slow smile, the slight move causing my world to tilt. My axis shifts, but only for a moment before resetting itself.

When he grasps his collar at the back of his neck and tears his shirt off with one hand, Cade sucks in a breath. His attention is heady, heavy, weighted. He likes what he sees.

Now that Declan’s chest is bare, I focus on our reflection. This time, I see nothing but perfection. His dark skin, dusted with even darker hair, my smooth skin, striped with green and black rope. The design weaves across my chest, under my breasts, over my shoulders, and down to my toes. I’m completely bound, and yet I feel like I’ve got his heart in my hand. Like if I told him to get down and kiss my feet, he would.

The man watches me with reverence and longing. When I check on Cade, his expression is just as devout. Though his reaction is to more than just me.

With a hand on my shoulder, Declan brushes his lips against my ear. “Now you’re in control. Tell me what you want, and I’ll show you that even when you’re bound by me, you call the shots.”

The words slide out like silk against my lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he zeroes in on Cade.

Straightening, I say, “You said I’m in control.” My tone is full of confidence, authority.

Slowly, he drags his attention back to me. Lips pressed together, he regards me in the mirror. As if he finally sees his beautiful work. How he’s tied the knots, how the ropes press into my skin. How my chest heaves with desire.

Desire for him.

God, I want him so badly.

“You are in control,” he says. The words are clear, but his voice is pained, like he’s admitting to so much more.

And god, why does that thrill me?

Filling my lungs, I turn to Cade. I care for him, and I need to make sure we’re all on the same page.

His grin is wide, his eyes bright. “I want him to fuck you too.”

Molten lava travels through my veins at his words.

“Put her up on the table,” Cade instructs. His involvement instantly turns that fire blazing in my core into a full-on inferno.

Declan lifts me easily, then places me on his dining room table. It’s a deep, dark wood surrounded by chairs in the same shade. He moves the one at the head of the table to the side and then pulls my legs so they hang off the edge.

When he steps between my thighs, he slides his tongue along his lower lip. But when he drags his focus to my face, his expression is nothing but earnest. In this moment, the world disappears, and it’s just the two of us.

“I really need to kiss you.”

“Please,” I murmur.

Without a moment of hesitation, he slips one hand behind my neck and pulls me close. At first, our lips brush gently. But it doesn’t remain that way for long. Declan nips at my bottom lip and swipes his tongue along it. Pulling me so close that my entire body is pressed up against his, he delves into my mouth, exploring. His hard chest, the rough scrape of his chest hair against my skin, are nothing short of ecstasy. The rope tugs on my legs as I writhe against him, seeking pressure and pleasure.

Declan shifts, and his length, though confined to his boxer briefs, rocks against my clit. “You’re soaking my dining room table,” he says between kisses.

“I’d lick it up,” Cade says, that simple phrase sending heat searing up my spine. He’s watching. He’s rapt. And soon enough, he’ll be here with us.

“Let me grab a condom,” Declan says, releasing me. He strides away quickly, leaving me alone with the other man I’m involved with.

“Hi,” I say to Cade, my tone timid. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

His blue eyes dance. “Trouble, this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I’m more than okay with it.”

Relief washes through me. “Good.”

Declan reappears an instant later, completely naked now. His hard cock bobs with his every step across the living room.

At the sight of him, I practically choke on my own saliva. He’s all man, dark hair covering his thick thighs, a hard, rugged chest that hints to how he spends his days, working hard and taking care of this town and the people in it.

Tonight I want to take care of him.

Bring him pleasure.

Watch him fall apart.

He gives Cade a meaningful look as he steps up to me. No words are spoken, but he nods once, and then he’s staring down at me again.

“Color?”

“Green,” I say easily.

He holds a condom out between two fingers. “Good. Put this on me.”

It’s already open, but I give myself a moment to grip his hard length without it. I slide up and down, reveling in the feel of him beneath my fingertips. When I brush my thumb over his tip, he grunts.

I smile, batting my lashes at him. “You’re huge.”

“You’ll take me beautifully,” he rumbles.

I sigh, soaking in the moment. He’s right. Everything about us is right. After one more tug, I slide the condom down his shaft. When he’s fully sheathed, he presses forward, kissing me again, coaxing me into submission, his tongue warming me up. Then, gripping my thighs, he drags me closer and doesn’t stop until I’m teetering on the edge of the table.

When he grasps my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, and holds me still, I can’t help the moan that slips past my lips.

“Barely touched her, and she’s already purring for you,” Cade murmurs. It’s like he’s in the room. Like he’s right here with us, involved in every step.

Declan notches his cock at my entrance but only slips in far enough for his swollen head to disappear. He takes a breath, and I do the same. Then, while we’re both fixated on where we’re joined, he thrusts in, disappearing completely. I whimper as he fills me, stretches me, with his fat cock. It’s so much thicker than any I’ve ever taken. The feel of him, the way I break for him, is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Oh my god,” I whisper as he lets out a muffled “fuck.”

“She’s so fucking tight.” He clutches my hips and holds himself deep inside me, eyes locked on mine. “You’re so fucking perfect, Melina. Beautiful, kind”—his throat bobs—“and so fucking tight.”

He pulls out and then thrusts back in again, making my tits bounce and my breath hitch. His gaze falls to them then, and he looks at me. “I want to suck on your nipple.”

Liquid heat rushes through me at the request. I’ve never had a man ask for approval like this. Before each step. And before this moment, I would have claimed I wanted a man who knows what he’s doing, takes what he wants.

Declan is that kind of man, yet he’s giving me that power. I’ve never experienced anything hotter.

“I’d love that too.”

Dipping his head, he presses a kiss to one, then the other. He stops there, focusing on licking, then flicking my nipple with his tongue, making the peak impossibly hard and sending sparks firing through my body.

“Fuck, that feels good.”

He continues, all the while thrusting slowly, still firmly holding my hips in place.

On the phone screen, Cade is breathing heavy.

“Are you stroking yourself?” I rasp out between ragged breaths.

Declan pulls back and peers over his shoulder.

Teeth gritted, Cade gives us a silent nod.

“Show us,” Declan demands.

“Yes, please,” I whimper, practically melting in response to his rough tone.

As Cade lowers the phone and his hard cock comes into view, Declan swells inside me.

The sensations are overwhelming. The hard surface beneath me. The sight of both men. Declan’s rough calluses and thick length. It’s almost too much, yet I want so much more.

“Spit on your hand,” Declan commands.

Without taking his focus off us, Cade obeys.

“Now fuck your hand and imagine it’s Melina’s hot mouth. You can’t have her pussy because it’s mine for tonight.”

Cade’s lips tip up like he loves Declan’s dirty mouth. I mean, what is there not to love? Then he works himself, and god, the way his huge hand grips his shaft as he tugs on it adds a healthy dose of gasoline to the fire already blazing here.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

Declan thrusts faster, still watching Cade, his breathing getting shallower, and when he turns back to me, he asks, “Can I play with your clit?”

“Please,” I beg, splaying my hands on the table and arching into him. I’m so damn close.

With a hand between us, he rubs small circles against my clit with his thumb, never changing the pace of his thrusts.

His grunts twine with Cade’s, creating a harmony that sends me hurtling toward release.

“Are you going to come for us?” Declan asks.

“Yes,” I pant, forcing myself to keep my eyes open. To watch both of my men.

He gives Cade a look. On the screen, Cade has slowed his jacking and is massaging the head, rolling his thumb over his slit, then following the move up with gentle tugs.

“How about you?” Declan asks. “Will you come for us?”

“I need a better angle,” Cade grunts.

Declan releases my hip and grabs for the phone. “Where do you want it?”

“I need to see you both.”

Fuck. Cade wants to watch Declan’s cock pumping into me.

Without needing clarification, Declan lifts me, gripping my ass with one hand and juggling the phone, and shuffles to the couch. He sets the phone on the side table and adjusts its angle. From this position, Cade can see our faces and our bodies as we come together.

“Just like that,” Cade rasps, jacking himself steadily again.

Declan rolls his hips in time with Cade’s movements, watching him watch us. When he zeroes in on me again, the desire emanating from him is so potent I think I may choke on it.

“Need your lips,” he says. This time he doesn’t wait for me to say yes before he presses his mouth to mine, his tongue teasing, our moans mixing.

When he arches back and lets out a guttural cry, I chant his name.

“Declan, yes, I’m coming.”

He thickens inside me and pulses, his jaw unhinged and a rumble low in his throat. His eyes flutter to the screen as Cade comes along with us.

But it’s not my name on Cade’s lips.

“Fuck, Dec,” he groans, his focus locked on his best friend as he fills his hand.

Declan tenses above me. Breathing through his nose like this, he’s more bull than human. Trying to make sense of what just happened. Unsure of how to feel about Cade’s reaction. Trying not to feel.

Thought after thought flutters through his mind in a matter of seconds.

Desperate for him to hold tight to the peace he possessed after tying me up, I press my palm flat against his pounding heart. The tension in his jaw relaxes, and he shifts so that he’s focusing solely on me.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs.

I smile up at him, flooded with warmth. “I’m perfect.”

Every second of the last hour has been exquisite. From the way he tied me up to the moment he finally pressed his lips to mine to the sex and the fucking and the orgasm. Every moment is imprinted on my skin like the marks this rope is sure to leave.

And all I can think is “When can we do it again?”