In this moment, it’s just me and my men.
Finally, Malix lifts his head and drops a kiss to the tip of my nose. “God, I love fucking you,” he murmurs.
“Good.” I chuckle. “Because I’ve got lots of plans for more of this.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Dirty girl. You really are my fated mate.”
I breathe out another laugh at the idea that my dirty mind is the true proof that we’re a fated match, shaking my head and grinning at him as he draws back, his cock sliding out of me.
Frost, Malix, and I all look toward Kian next.
The final piece of the puzzle. My third mate.
He’s kneeling on the bed beside me, and when I reach for him, he comes willingly. He settles between my legs, his cock hard and thick. But he doesn’t slide into me right away. Instead, he trails one hand down my stomach, and all four of us watch the path of his fingers as they move lower and lower. When he reaches my pussy, he dips two fingers inside. I moan at the feeling, and heat flashes in his eyes.
“You look so stunning like this,” he murmurs in a low voice. “Fucked by my brothers. Marked and claimed and flushed. Gorgeous.”
I lick my lips, not answering, but keeping my attention fixed on his hand. He drags his fingers out of me, coated with my slick arousal and the other two men’s cum. The sight is so beautifully filthy that I let out a soft, plaintive noise.
Kian’s lips curve upward in a possessive grin, and he brings his fingers up to my mouth, offering them to me. Holding his gaze, I wrap my lips around them, and Malix curses as I suck them. Frost makes a guttural noise, and when I look over at him, I see that he’s hard again, stroking his cock as he watches me lick Kian’s fingers clean.
“I’m glad you’re hungry for us,” Kian tells me, following my gaze toward his brother before looking back at me. “Because we’ll always be hungry for you.”
With those words, he pulls his hand away from my mouth and hooks his arms under my knees, lifting my ass off the bed a little as he nudges my entrance with his cock.
My core flutters around him as he sinks into me, my body sated and exhausted but hungry just like he said.
I will always be hungry for these men. Always.
“Kian,” I murmur, giving in to the simple pleasure of saying his name as he fucks me, letting my barriers down and experiencing the incredible pleasure of falling without fear of hitting the ground.
“I know, baby,” he whispers roughly, setting a hard pace that lets me know his self-restraint is about as tapped out as Frost’s was. “I know. Fuck.”
Frost and Malix are both stroking themselves beside us, both so turned on by everything that’s happening between all of us that they’re hard again. The sounds of them touching themselves fill the air, a counterpoint to the slap of Kian’s pelvis against mine as he fucks me into the bed.
Time seems to stand still for a long, suspended moment, and I try to cling to that feeling even as pleasure starts to build slow and steady inside me. I know Kian won’t let himself come until I do, and I want to let go at the same moment he does.
“Look at me,” I murmur, reaching up to frame his face with my hands. He groans, his lips pulling back in a grimace as his body tenses, but he does what I asked, holding my gaze as something passes between us.
I don’t look away. I don’t even blink. I just watch the pleasure spread over his face, and when it finally breaks, I let it break me too.
He growls, surging into me one more time as I throw my head back, my mouth dropping open on a cry.
Dimly, I’m aware of Frost and Malix grunting and cursing as they come too, but it all gets lost in a fog of sated desire as my body shudders and heart slams against my ribs.
Kian collapses on top of me, his large frame covering mine as he buries his face in my neck. Malix and Frost move closer on either side, and I realize that my hip is sticky with someone’s cum.
“So…” Malix drawls the word near my ear, his tone languid and heated. “It just occurred to me that this four-way mate situation is probably gonna be a little messy.”
Kian huffs a short grunt, as if he’s too tired to do anything else, and I can practically feel Frost’s deadpan look. But I laugh, grinning up as I turn my head to look at my violet-eyed mate.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It probably will.”
The honest truth is, it was already messy.
For a long time, it was the ugly kind of messy. The kind that involved lies and manipulation, grudges and anger. The kind that almost broke us.
But maybe now it can become the good kind of messy. The sweaty, sticky, happy kind.
I don’t voice the thought out loud, but as we disentangle ourselves and clean up a little before falling back into bed in an exhausted pile, I hold that hope close to my heart.