“Shit, you’re ready,” he chuckled into my neck.
His beard tickled. His teeth bit down hard, and I welcomed the little flair of pain.
“Randall, I—”
The sentence ended in a groan as he rolled onto my back. Pushing my thighs wide, he buried himself with a long, satisfying groan.
“God it’s so fucking hot in there…” he moaned, swirling himself around. He sat up on his knees and started fucking me straight away.
“Randall, I think I love you guys…”
The words just happened. The sentence just poured out. For a split-second I was terrified, completely unsure of what I’d just done. After all, I was delirious. Practically hypnotized by all the sweltering hot sex.
At the same time though, it wasn’t an accident. There was no recoil, no regret. My heart actually meant what I’d said.
“We love you too, Andrea,” he said, slowing his strokes to a more tender speed. Slowly he brought his face to mine. His dark eyes flared wildly. “I know I love you...”
I smiled from ear to ear, still rocking beneath him. “You said my name.”
“What?”
“My name,” I repeated. “You’ve called me just about everything under the sun. Everything except Andrea.”
He laughed and slid his hands up over my breasts, to grip me by the shoulders. The extra leverage drove him deeper. He stopped for a moment, buried all the way inside me, our eyes burning into each other’s. Then he kissed me softly, and chuckled some more.
“Don’t tell the guys,” he winked.
I lay back as Randall made love to me now, softly, slowly. Reveling in the heat of our bodies, the sensuality of the candlelight. I was wholly and completely relaxed. All safe and warm and protected, beneath this beautiful mountain of tattooed muscle.
Did you really just say that?
I had. I really had.
But did you mean it?
Somehow I knew I did, with all my heart. And not just Randall either, but all of them. We’d become a package deal, the four of us. A team. Beyond the obvious attraction and sexual chemistry, there was a dynamic of respect, of caring. Of almost… almost…
Family?
It was so hard to say. Hard to see. But it was there, somewhere in the distance. All fuzzy and out of focus, but still breathtakingly within reach.
You want them all.
The admission was easy to make, physically at least. Mentally and emotionally however, I was still working it out in my head.
And what about them? What do they want?
That part I didn’t know. It was entirely possible things were merely physical for them. That they saw me only as a sexual plaything; a warm, wet, welcome distraction from the mission at hand.
It’s not like that… and you know it.
I wanted to believe my instinct. But that’s all it was. Instinct. A feeling in my gut; the same feeling I got when I held Marcus’s hand. The feeling of peace and serenity I felt as my body lay between Randall’s and Holden’s, staring up at the ceiling in the dead of the night. Wondering exactly where these men had come from. Why these men had saved me, cared for me, and taken me under their wing.
“You’re so hot it’s ridiculous,” Randall complained, screwing his eyes shut. He was still grinding away at me, slow and deep. Stretching me from the inside, while pushing my legs even wider. “There’s no fucking way I can keep holding off…”
“Then don’t,” I smiled, rolling my hips. I reached down with both hands and clawed his ass. “Just let it go…”
He looked down at me pleadingly. His eyes, begging me to be serious.