Page 67 of Claimed By the Cowboys

Jensen’s smile is warm and a little wicked. He wraps the soft leather around my wrists and secures them to the headboard, tight enough that I’m held but loose enough that I could pull free if I needed to. The familiar click of restraint relaxes me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever want to replace.

“Look at you,” Jensen murmurs, trailing his fingers down my arms.

Bo settles between my thighs, spreading them wide with his hands. He kisses a slow path up the inside of one leg, then the other, until I’m trembling. When his mouth finally covers me, I cry out as he licks me with deliberate, devastating patience, circling my clit, dipping lower, then returning again and again until I’m gasping his name.

“Bo, please…”

Jensen leans over me and kisses me deeply, swallowing every sound. One of his hands cups my breast and brushes over my nipple in time with Bo’s tongue.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Jensen praises against my mouth. “Let him take care of you. You’re so pretty like this, tied up and moaning for us.”

Their dual attention pulls me under fast. When Bo slides two fingers inside me and curls them exactly right, I come hard, my legs shaking around his head and my wrists tugging against the belt.

“Oh… fuck… fuck… fuck… don’t stop…” I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut as starbursts flicker behind my lids.

They don’t give me long to recover.

Bo stretches out on his back, and Jensen helps lift me over him. I sink onto Bo’s cock with a long, broken moan, the stretch perfect and familiar. Jensen moves in behind me with slick fingers, preparing me carefully before he presses the head of his cock against me.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Bo says, gripping my hips. “We’ve got you.”

Jensen pushes in slowly, inch by careful inch, until I’m full of both without protection. The belt secures me in place, totally at their mercy.

The pressure is intense, but it’s exactly what I need. They give me a moment to adjust, whispering soft praise, stroking my back and thighs, before they start to move. Raw, the sensation is different. The shape of them is clearer, and the throb of arousal as they chase their pleasure is more intense. I feel closer to them too, knowing there’s no barrier between us and that they’ll fill me when we tumble into oblivion.

The rhythm they find is deep and rolling. Bo thrusts up into me while Jensen rocks against my back, the three of us locked together in a way that’s less about sex and more like claiming and surrender. Every stroke sends sparks up my spine. Every low groan from them makes me clench tighter.

“You’re taking us so well,” Jensen rasps against my shoulder. “Our perfect girl. You’re so hot and slick.”

Bo’s eyes stay locked on mine, dark and full of emotion. “Love you,” he says gruffly. “Love you so damn much, Brandy.”

The words undo me. I come again with a cry as my body tightens around them so hard that they follow right after, Bo first, then Jensen, holding me through it, filling me, and keeping me safe between them as the pleasure crashes over all three of us.

Afterward, they untie my wrists with gentle hands and pull me down between them. With soft kisses and slow strokes along my arms and back, they show me how precious I am to them. The quiet sound of our breathing evens out as I rest my head on Bo’s chest, and Jensen’s arm tightens around my waist from behind.

Between my legs, I leak our arousal and my clit throbs in response, already hungry for more. More importantly, my heart overflows for them, split open with love and affection.

“I love you, Bo,” I whisper. “I love you, Jensen.”

“We love you too, Brandy,” they murmur in unison, kissing my forehead and temple, pulling me even closer, and holding me even tighter.

“Thank you for showing me what love is,” I say. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I never believed I could be this happy.”

“We want you this happy for the rest of your life,” Bo says.

“We want us this happy for the rest of our lives,” Jensen says, tapping my ass with the curve of his palm.

“Happy,” I say before I settle into blissful sleep, claimed by my cowboys, finally hopeful for the future I dreamed of. A future filled with family and love.

Epilogue

Jensen

The living room is an explosion of Christmas. The tree in the corner touches the ceiling and is decorated with a mix of formal ornaments and homemade children's offerings, making it perfectly eclectic. Paper chains frame the room in green, red, and white. A nativity scene sits on the mantle, above the five stockings with embroidered names that bulge with gifts.

Brandy’s been busy.

Naomi and Elijah sit cross-legged on the rug in a sea of crumpled wrapping paper, talking at once as they tear into their gifts. Elijah has already claimed a set of wooden farm animals and is lining them up in careful rows. Naomi holds up a new sketchbook and a tin of colored pencils like she’s been handed real treasure.