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They pick up the pace a little, moving in tandem. From their grunts and groans, it feels just as good for them as it does for me. It doesn’t take much more for me to go spinning out of control, drowning in the pleasure of it.

I feel like I’m burning alive with it, every part of me primed and ready for the orgasm that slams into me. It hits me like a tidal wave, sucking me under and leaving me clawing at Callan’s chest a little. It’s the biggest orgasm I’ve ever had, and it keeps going.

Every time one of them pulls out or pushes back in, it sparks more pleasure and another wave of sensation that won’t let up.

I clench around all of them, and I’m distantly aware of them cursing and following me, coming undone one right after the other.

And then I’m out for a while. Deaf and blind to everything but the aftershocks wracking my body.

When I come back down, the three of them are collapsed on the bed with me. After a few long minutes, they start to stir, getting up to get a washcloth and clean me up. But I grab the arm of whoever is closest and pull them back, my eyes still closed.

“Don’t go yet,” I mumble. “I can be messy for a bit longer.”

Ares chuckles, his voice warm and familiar. “You can be messy for as long as you want. As long as it’s our mess.”

He wraps himself around me, and I feel Tate and Callan settle in as well. I curl up among them all, feeling sated and loved and claimed.

48

BRYNN

I wake up in the morning warm, comfortable, and surrounded by all three of the guys. The memories of yesterday are still fresh in my mind, and I think about how things went after we left the festival. It was the last thing I expected, them declaring their feelings for me like that, but the sex and conversation afterward definitely cemented that we all feel the same.

When we could move again, Tate made us dinner, and then we all crawled into bed together, just talking and touching and enjoying being close with no one else around.

I yawn and shift a little in bed, and a strong arm tightens around me. When I look down, I see that it’s a muscular, tattooed arm, and I can’t help but smile. Callan is still here. It makes my heart swell to see it.

He gives a sleepy mumble and then cracks one eye open to look at me.

“Hi,” I say, unable to hold back my joy.

He rumbles something that’s probably a greeting back.

“You stayed.” It’s pointing out the obvious, but I have to say something about it.

Callan doesn’t look upset or embarrassed at all. Instead he smiles and shrugs a shoulder. “I told you I was obsessed with you, didn’t I? You changed all my rules. You changed me.”

I give in to the urge to kiss him, leaning in closer while that warm, full feeling of contentment just grows.

Ares shifts at my back, yawning and grumbling under his breath. “What time is it?” he mutters.

“Christmas time,” Tate says, waking up as well.

I chuckle. “I guess it is. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Tate replies. “Guess this means I should make something good for breakfast. Christmas morning should be a little bit of a production or we’re not doing it right.”

No one argues with that, and we all get out of bed. My body aches from what they put me through last night, and I wince as I move too quickly.

Ares is right there, hand on my shoulder and concern on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah, just sore. I didn’t know my body could do what it did yesterday, so I’m feeling it a little.”

I can tell all three of them are feeling a mixture of glad that I’m not hurt and proud that I can still feel the traces of what they did to me. I roll my eyes, even though it is hot that the feelings are still lingering.

Tate takes command of the kitchen, telling Ares to put coffee on and then ordering them out. I turn to follow them, but he snags me around the waist and pulls me close to him.

“Not you. You still get to be my sous chef, if you want.”