Lesson In Honesty (Club Serenity #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Sierra

O ne day, she would learn not to listen to Archie and Lisha.

Unfortunately, today was not that day.

Her Doms’ voices were muffled inside the clunky headpiece of the bear costume—which she adored and was going to hide away where Liam couldn’t find it—but she saw Mack’s face light up with a grin as he shoved up from the couch and stalked away.

She’d heard something about swords, and was really hoping she wasn’t about to be impaled on something uncomfortable. Her insides were still tender from Saturday night, in a nice, remember how well you got fucked kind of way.

“I don’t suppose I have to ask where the costume came from, do I?” Liam said conversationally as he carefully extracted her head from the bear’s. “How are the troublesome two, minx?”

Oh, it was easier to breathe. That was a relief, the inside of the bear was stupidly stuffy despite the air holes. When she first put it on, she thought claustrophobia might get the better of her. “Troublesome two, Daddy?”

“Don’t act innocent with me. I’ll let Jasper and Atticus know what their subs are up to when they’re not supervised.”

She winced. She didn’t want her friends to get into trouble. “I, um, ordered it. Online. It looked cute and I…”

“Liar, liar,” he murmured, extricating the rest of her from the slightly too big prop and rolling her onto her back. Gently, he brushed her damp hair away from her face. “Been neglecting you a bit since we got here, haven’t I? We got to spend a lot more time together in Phoenix.”

“We did,” she admitted. “But I think coming here brought us closer together. Brought us to Mack. I don’t feel neglected, Liam.” She nuzzled into his palm when he cupped her cheek. “I feel like we’re growing into the people we need to be, were supposed to be, before Wyatt. We’re healing. Evolving, and Mack is right here with us.”

“You’re still okay with the agreement?”

“After everything we’ve been through and done together lately? No. I don’t want an agreement between any of us, Liam.” She paused, gathering the excitement she’d felt surge through her veins when Mack said he wanted to marry them. “I want a wedding like Callie’s. Simple, with our friends around us, and rings to link us all as one.”

Liam’s mouth twisted ruefully. “Heard that, did you?”

“I did. Not to jump the gun, but the answer is yes, to both of you.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, making him waver. “Mack was right when he said I want to belong. Even if we’d married Wyatt, he never would have had me . Everything is different now—we belong to each other.”

“I’m not arguing.” Mack reappeared, dropping to his knees beside them and spreading a handful of items on the carpet.

“I guess we’d best get working on a proposal then.” Liam raked his gaze over her body, smiling when he reached her mound. “Until then, our pseudo-bear requires a touch of discipline. Treat yourself, Mack; her breasts are lonely.”

He grinned. “Oh yeah, babies, come to Daddy Mack.”

Her belly twisted with excitement, and she probably should’ve laughed at his quip, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Liam. Her original, forever Daddy’s face was losing its affectionate softness and gaining hardness in its place; she knew that expression, that slow slide into seriousness.

Sadist Daddy was coming out to play.

She was so screwed.

Mack feathered his fingertips around her breasts, yanking her thoughts away from what she imagined Liam was planning. Her nipples began to tighten, the areolas crinkling. “See, your nipples do as they’re told, pixie. They’re good girls,” he said in a playful tone, “so they get a reward.”

Were they going for good Daddy, bad Daddy? Honestly, they both had their parts down to a freaking science if they were, because she wanted to preen under Mack’s touch and wither beneath Liam’s unamused stare.

Lips closed around her left nipple, Mack’s tongue teasing it into a soft, round peak. She often wondered if Liam preferred a woman with a more ample bosom, bigger nipples, an ass with more… what was the term? Junk in the trunk.

Neither man cared about that, apparently, as Mack sucked on what she offered with gusto, drawing on the small bud until her hips lifted from the sharp, sweet pain firing from the flesh in his mouth to her pussy.

“The other one,” Liam suggested, picking up one of the items Mack had brought along. “Been a while since I got to pick out some new toys, minx. I think these might be my favorite.”

She bit back a moan, ignoring the quick switch of Mack’s mouth from one side to the other. She focused on the small stainless steel crown in his fingers, confusion rippling through her. Where was that supposed to go? It was only about an inch wide, and there was a bar running through the middle of it.

Liam pinched her damp nipple, tugging it away from her breast. Releasing it, he set the crown over it, then delicately took hold of the protruding ends of the bar and pulled it open.

Oh hell.

The cool steel settled perfectly on her skin, turning her normal bud into a princess. It stood out, reacting to the flash of cold, and Liam let go of the ends.

Pain notched into one nipple as pleasure smothered the other.

Crying out, she tried to squirm away from the devilish bite, but Liam was there, shaking his head, pinning her hips to the floor with his hand to her mound. So close to her sex and yet too damn far.

“Magnetic nipple clamps,” he told her with a grin. “I saw some a while ago, but I wasn’t keen on mass-produced shit touching your skin, so Jasper kindly introduced me to a metalsmith he personally uses for Anarchy’s toys. Much better quality, from the workmanship to the magnets.”

They were boring holes through her flesh, she was sure. The pressure was exquisite, constant, creating a heaviness in her lower belly.

“Mack, why don’t you do this one?”

Lips lifted off her breast with an audible pop. Mack studied the silver gadget with interest, taking and rolling it between his fingers. “Huh. Fidgety little thing, isn’t it? I thought you’d be a clover clamp kind of Dom.”

“I’ve got some, just waiting for the right—or wrong—infraction. Our girl hasn’t had her nipples, or anything else for that matter, clamped for a long time.” Liam tapped his fingers on her mound three times. “It’s worth reintroducing some things slowly.”

Oh God, not her clit.

There should be a law protecting a sub’s clitoris from castigation.

She stiffened, squeezing her eyes closed as Mack plumped her unadorned nipple further and slipped the crown into position. Her inner muscles clenched on emptiness when the magnets parted, then snapped together with her sensitive flesh trapped in the middle.

“Beautiful,” Mack purred under his breath.

“Isn’t she just,” Liam agreed. “Wait until the tips turn red.”

All right, they’d had their fun.

Sierra hissed between her teeth, trying to sit up. To her surprise, Liam gallantly helped her, holding her shoulders lightly. “All I did was play a prank, Master Liam. A small prank that didn’t harm anyone.” She held her thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Teeny tiny.”

“Was that really all you did today, minx?”

Ugh, of course this morning was biting her in the ass now. “Technically, I made penance for that. I left a note so Mack wouldn’t worry, and then gave him a blowjob. Amends were officially offered and accepted.”

“Mmm-hmm. And what about the grievances against me, Sierra?”

Why did he have to be such a hardass? Aiming for innocence, she blinked at him. “Against you, Sir?”

His mouth didn’t twitch, not even a tiny bit. “I told you to stay here and rest. Not only did you go directly against my wishes, you refused to come home when Mack asked. Testing him is expected, just as I expect him to draw his line in the sand and stick to it. Testing me, however, is long past, minx. We know our boundaries.”

She dropped her gaze. He was right, which sucked. “Yes, Sir.”

“So, the nipple clamps cover your punishment for the prank. What happens next is for the rest of your disobedience.” Liam smirked, glancing at Mack. “Knowing you, you’ll enjoy it, minx. Unless you choose rebellion a second time, although… it wouldn’t be wise.”

She swallowed nervously.

“Mack, I think our girl needs some support.”

“Why don’t I oblige then?” He sat, using the couch behind him as a brace, then spread his thighs and patted the inside of one. “Come on, pixie. Make yourself comfortable.”

With a sigh, she went to turn onto her hands and knees to stand; Liam gave her flank a sharp slap that echoed between her legs. “Scoot over to him. I like seeing the quick glimpses of pink when you flash that pussy at me.”

Heat shimmered up her throat. Doing as he bid, she shuffled back toward Mack, wincing as the carpet warmed her butt. When her ass hit his crotch, she exhaled slowly.

“Hands behind Mack’s neck, Sierra, and get these lovely legs spread wide for me.” Ever in control, Liam remained on his knees, satisfied she’d obey because, well, being his good girl was everything to her. “That’s perfect. See, doesn’t it feel good to behave?”

She nodded, ignoring the exposed stretch of her body. The manic swirling in her mind was starting to calm, smoothing the path for submission.

“Restrain her legs, Mack.”

Say what, now? Sierra almost dropped her arms, but a stern glance from Liam kept them exactly where they were. Her skin prickled ominously when Mack hooked his legs over hers, curving his feet to lock her in position.

“How wet is she?” Liam asked.

One of Mack’s hands slid over to cup her clamped breast, toying with the crown, while the other wandered down her front as though taking the scenic route. He teased her folds, circling her clit until her hips shifted restlessly, then dipped a finger into her entrance with a tsk . “I think we’ve got an anxious pixie, Liam. Good thing I brought the lube.”

What on God’s green earth were they planning? Suspicious, Sierra watched Liam’s every move as he reached behind himself and came up with the familiar black bottle of lubricant. Pouring a small amount on his fingers, he coated them thoroughly.

“We’ve talked about fisting before,” he said conversationally, replacing Mack’s fingers with his own. “It’s never really been something we’ve explored.”

She squeaked, shaking her head as her voice fled.

“That’s not your punishment,” he continued in a reassuring tone, massaging lube around her entrance until she was slick with false desire. “Not quite, anyway.” He eased a single finger inside her. “But you are going to have to open up for me, minx.”

What did not quite fisting comprise of, exactly?

One finger, two? Half a hand? The whole hand with some random loophole that excluded it from the fisting category?

How many times had she heard the story of Anarchy’s engagement? It was long before Sierra first set foot in Avalon, but Archie seemed to have fond memories of being pierced and fisted.

Obviously, her friend was a few eggs short of an omelet.

She had to be, marrying a sadist and raising a brood of adorable but riotous children with him; there was a high probability their kids were either going to be murderers, scientific geniuses, or politicians when they grew up.

The thought of children made Sierra sad again.

Obligingly, she wiggled slightly lower to ease the awkward sting of Liam’s second finger pushing in with the first. Two was quite a nice fit; Liam’s hands were big, his fingers appropriately sized. They filled her without too much of a stretch.

“That’s a good girl. Relax and enjoy it, Sierra.” He kissed the top of her bent knee, manipulating her core with gentle thrusts. “See what I mean about her nipples, Mack? Beautiful shade of red, right?”

“My favorite color.”

Pulling his fingers out to the tips, Liam liberally added more lube. A third finger was coated and then pushed into her. “You know some of her sweet spots already, but there are a few she doesn’t like me to find. There’s one between her shoulder blades that turns her into a limp mess.”

Oh God, he had to divulge everything?

“Really? It’d be rude not to go exploring. Hands behind your own neck now, pixie, and lean forward a bit.”

Would he like her to become double-jointed while she was at it? She moaned, protesting the pinch of too many digits occupying a tight space. They were encroaching into Merrick territory now, and that wasn’t somewhere she wanted to go again in a hurry.

She dug her nails into her nape, hating her stomach muscles as they strained to keep her from folding in half. If Mack found that spot, she was doomed. It was the detonation button for every nerve ending she owned, and pressing it decimated her system to the point of oblivion.

She loved it, hated it, feared it.

And, of course, Mack hit it almost on the first try, dragging his nails lightly down her back, starting just below her hands, following the line of her spine. Her upper body contorted, attempting to deflect his touch, bowing her shoulders.

“X marks the spot, pixie,” he crooned. His tongue swiped over her skin, striking the button again, and moisture spilled over Liam’s hand.

“Again,” her Daddy demanded.

The pressure between her legs grew considerably, another finger joining the fray. Jesus, he was really straddling the line between fisting and not fisting, wasn’t he? A very fine, very precarious—

Mack set his thumb directly on the erogenous zone and rubbed in tight, strong circles. He stole her control, her thoughts, her voice, until all she could do was shudder hard enough to spark an orgasm and squeak in high, staccato bursts like an angry guinea pig.

“Stop,” she gasped, the word half-forming so it was nothing but gibberish.

The wide bridge of Liam’s hand wedged into her entrance, stretching her past reason. Even the cool flood of lube didn’t help. Neither did the rhythmic squeeze of her pelvic muscles crushing his fingers as the orgasm tore through her, sucking him deeper.

“Lean back, babygirl. Mack’s got you. Just take a little more for me.”

As soon as Mack’s thumb lifted, she sagged. Would have slumped forward if not for his hand on her breast, keeping her upright before she headbutted Liam on her way down.

“What does it look like, pixie?” He nipped her earlobe, shocking her senses back online. “My favorite pussy, swallowing her Daddy’s hand. Are you bruising his fingers with our tight cunt? It’s ours now, Sierra. It belongs to us. You belong to us, and we to you.”

Liam’s knuckles breached her opening, twisting and rocking gently. He stopped pushing for more, evidently content to just swivel his hand until pained noises scorched her throat. “It’s okay, Sierra. Let your muscles relax and acclimate. You’re doing so well.”

Yellow was on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought about using her safeword, but it was right there .

She clenched her teeth, breathing through them and the pain, until it abated with a soft slurp and rush of wetness from between her legs.

“Such a good girl.” Lips brushed hers fleetingly. “Mack, give her to me. Do you want the floor or the couch?”

Mack stroked her hair, soothing the trembling taking root in her bones. “We’ll try the couch.”

There was no reason to be afraid. She knew there wasn’t, yet it didn’t stop fear worming under her skin. The Liam in front of her was a version she wasn’t familiar with all that well; he’d shown hints over the years as he matured, but she wasn’t prepared for just how stern and foreboding he could be in his element.

Maybe it was the fact she wasn’t used to him using sex as a punishment. Sure, he’d taken her anally before as a reprimand, but this felt different. Deeper . As though she’d disappointed him so badly, he needed to underline her mistakes in bold.

She hated it. Hated that she’d pushed him into taking this course of action.

Hated that she felt so damn alone when there were two Doms, two Daddies, right here with her.

Mack nudged her forward into Liam’s waiting arms, then rose and began to strip. Clothes rained down around her until he ducked down and retrieved the lube.

She heard the squelch of gel and air squishing from the bottle, then the slick sound of flesh on wet flesh. Squeezing her eyes closed, she buried her face in Liam’s neck.

“Oh, little minx.” His hand stroked up and down her back. “Trust me.”

A body plunked into the couch cushions. “All set.”

“None of this is done in anger, Sierra. There’s no need to look like we’re about to sacrifice you for your sins.” Liam hummed low in his throat, the vibration fluttering against her skin. “You’re our girl, minx. No one gets to harm you, not even us.”

As the saying went, resistance was futile. After a soft, lingering kiss, Liam got to his feet, pulling her with him. Spinning her around, he directed her to Mack and got rid of his own clothes.

“Come on, pixie.” Sprawled on the couch, legs slightly spread and his cock jutting up from his groin, Mack smiled and held out his hand. “I won’t bite.”

Swallowing nausea and some hellish nerves, she hesitantly slipped her hand into his, letting him pull her forward. Her shins hit the couch and she froze.

Who was going where? It wasn’t the first time she’d taken two men at the same time, but the idea of taking these two together was daunting. She’d be impossibly full no matter which way she took them.

Hands gripped her hips and lifted her, settling her over Mack so she straddled him, her knees sinking into the cushions. The crown of his cock slapped against her lower belly, then his hand grasped the shaft, angling it to rub against her seam.

“Down you go, pixie, nice and slow.”

She hesitated, her thigh muscles quivering with the effort to stay upright. “Sir? Liam?”

“I’m here.”

“Y-You wouldn’t fuck my ass without lube, would you?”

“Babygirl, your ass isn’t in any danger tonight.”

Oh, that was a relief. Even as she dragged in a grateful breath, loosening the tension in her chest, a second, more worrisome thought replaced it. If he wasn’t claiming her ass, then where the fuck did he think he was going?

The answer—the only feasible, logical answer—made her legs give out. She dropped onto Mack’s cock without warning, sinking hard and fast until he bottomed out against her cervix. The jab of pain wrenched a yelp from her, then she was scrambling to get off him.

“No, you don’t.” Mack’s hands locked onto her hips this time, pinning her where she was. “That’s one way to turn a guy into a one-pump chump, pixie.”

He throbbed inside her, taking up every inch, every fucking millimeter of room. Damn it, why did he have to feel so good? She cursed herself as her hips moved of their own accord, craving another orgasm, yearning for the rhythm that would bring it to her.

“That’s it, babygirl. Don’t worry about anything else but riding him.”

“I’m not… I’m not…” The words wouldn’t come. “Not two of you. No.”

Warmth covered her back; Liam’s hands landed on the back of the couch. Mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Just ride him, Sierra. Take every inch of that big cock in your pussy and make it yours. Come all over it, as many times as you want. I’ll worry about the rest.”

“Up and down,” Mack coaxed, tugging on her clamped nipple.

There was a cock in her and one pressed against her back. God, how hadn’t she seen this coming? She’d been content thinking Liam just had double penetration in mind, when in reality he’d been preparing her for two in her… in her… shit.

Tentatively, she swiveled her hips, giving her ridiculous body control over her movements. The thick shaft dragged in and out, aided by lube and her own juices, without an inch to spare.

There wasn’t anything to worry about, she thought, exhaling softly. There literally wasn’t an inch to spare, so Liam would just have to wait his turn.

Confidence growing, she set her hands on Mack’s shoulders, pushing against them for extra leverage, riding him exactly how she’d been ordered. Slow at first, taking him to the tip and sinking back down, savoring the sensation of being filled over and over again. He felt bigger this way, even though he was under her, and there was a glorious kind of power thrumming through her.

His hands covered her breasts, kneading them roughly enough her abused nipples screamed, then whimpered, adding more fuel to the inferno sparking in her core.

“Tell me when she’s near, Mack.”

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, gradually shortening the rise and fall of her hips until she bounced on his dick like it was a pogo stick. A subtle twist of her pelvis, a shift in her weight, and his crown hammered her G-spot without mercy.

Everything tightened, spasms rippling in the heart of her core, bracing for the onslaught of pleasure threatening to break down the wall and sweep her away.

“She’s there. Fuck, she’s there.” Mack groaned, the cords in his neck standing out in stark relief as he fought not to follow her over the edge. His arms banded around her, crushing her sweaty, trembling form to his chest; one around her back, the other over her waist. “Come on, pixie, let us hear it.”

She slammed down on him, crying out when he struck the very end of her, bruising her tender inner unmentionables. Everything snapped shut around him, desperately milking his shaft for something he refused to give her.

The orgasm ripped through her like a demon, destroying her until there was nothing left but glitter in the ashes.

“I love watching her come,” Liam said quietly. “You holding on, Mack?”

“Barely. Fuck.” Mack’s arms didn’t release their restraining tension. “Hurry up or this will be over before… Jesus, her cunt’s fisting me from root to tip.”

“She’s strong.” Liam sounded so proud, then he chuckled. “Breathe in, buddy.”

Forehead thumping onto Mack’s shoulder, Sierra went limp on top of him. Why was he still hard? He should have been right there with her, pumping her full of everything he had, but no, he was erect and pulsing.

A shock of cold jolted her labia followed by a fingertip tracing the seam of where she and Mack were linked. Tracing and then… oh fuck.

Politely requesting access.

Demanding access.

Straining her sanity as the digit found a weak spot and pushed in, slick with lube. Vulnerability identified, Liam added another finger, carefully stretching her again. For the first time, she was grateful for the semi-fisting he’d given her; her flesh wasn’t quite as resistant as it would have been otherwise.

“Daddy, please…” she mumbled.

“Relax, Sierra. You’re all soft and pliable. I’m going to move slowly, make sure we don’t hurt you.” The intrusion of his fingers was taken over by a bigger, more formidable opponent. “We don’t want to damage Mack either, do we, babygirl?”

She shook her head slowly.

“It’s going to sting, Sierra. It’s going to be uncomfortable for a few minutes. I just need you to breathe and relax. Don’t made any sudden moves.” Liam spoke so casually, she might believe he regularly shoved two large penises into a woman.

How could she not obey him? Her trust in him was too rooted, too ingrained. They’d spent years establishing it, and she knew he wouldn’t risk breaking it. They were too important to each other, too vital, and it was only growing with Mack extending their love to encompass a threesome once more.

Squirming away didn’t help; Mack refused to relinquish his Daddy bear hug, and Liam’s hand pressed down on the small of her back. Her legs were folded beneath her in the straddle, completely useless.

“You’re not breathing, pixie,” Mack whispered. “Don’t tense up.”

A wickedly sharp retort was on her tongue, only it morphed into a pained whimper. The tension stretching her entrance increased tenfold, the skin distending slowly to accommodate Liam and Mack. It pinched at first, escalating into a burn that spread under her skin, over it, through it.

Liam’s cock slipped, enraging the burn into scalding pain. She yelped, shoving against Mack’s chest, but Liam just repositioned himself and pushed in again. She felt his fingers on her pussy, guiding his crown and preventing a second painful mistake.

“Sorry, babygirl.” He gave her ass a reassuring trio of pats. “We were so close then.”

So close to what, mutilating her? A terrible, horrifying thought struck her: what if Liam achieved his goal and squished himself in there—in her —and neither man could get out? Two well-endowed men cramming themselves into a much smaller orifice surely created a risk of getting stuck?

She moaned in abject horror, imagining someone coming to find them when Liam didn’t show up for his shift. Evander—or worse, Elias—walking in to find them wedged into one entity, not dissimilar to that creepy centipede movie.

She had no idea what the highest level of mortification was called, probably death, but no one could live through humiliation that severe. Especially since the EMTs would have to be called to help with an extraction, or transport them to a fucking hospital where they’d become some freakish circus attraction.

Panic lodged a ball in her throat. Air fast became a rare commodity, little sips forcing their way past the constriction.

“Aw, don’t do that, pixie. We’ve got you.” Mack pressed his face into her hair. “Tell us what you’re thinking. Tell us so we can help. We’re not trying to traumatize you, we just want us all to be closer together.”

Trembling, she choked out, “Stuck.”

“No one’s stuck, babygirl.” Liam paused, drawing out a long oh of realization. “Sierra, we’re not going to get stuck in you. Getting inside you is proving to be the bigger issue here, but we’ve got enough lube to grease a pig at the county fair.”

She giggled. It took her completely by surprise. Instead of kinky freaks locked together on a hospital gurney, her mind conjured images of Mack and Liam’s cocks with cute little ears and snouts, all greased up, being chased through a muddy pen by sexy, bare chested cowboys.

“That’s more like it.” Mack’s chest heaved with relief. “Why can’t you have a pencil dick, Liam?”

“Me? I’m not the one with a beer bottle cock.”

Mack chuckled. “Not far off. We aren’t much different in size.”

“True. Can you not tell yours to breathe in?”

Oddly, their friendly banter calmed her down. They were unapologetic about their size; why should they be otherwise when they had no control about it? She almost believed there was nothing to worry about when they joked with each other this way, until she remembered they didn’t have to be concerned with their precious dicks suffering an injury.

Starting to get uncomfortable in her current position, she struggled to shift her legs and hips to alleviate the ache. A quick, blinding shard of pain pierced her pussy, traveling up to her brain and alerting her to a big fucking problem.

Her men groaned in unison.

“Atta girl, Sierra.” Voice tight and dark, Liam growled the words. “Holy shit .”

Uh-oh, what had she done? Not daring to move, she barely breathed. Somehow, she’d given him enough leverage to do the impossible and squeeze in with Mack. She chanted under her breath, “Do not move, do not move, do not move.”

“You okay, pixie?” Mack’s voice was equally as tight.

“ Ow , you bastards.”

Liam laughed, kneading her hip. “Yeah, she’s fine. How are you holding up? Think you can last a few more minutes?”

“Debatable.”

“I’ll add some more lube, then ease my way in. God, this is perverse and absolutely fucking beautiful at same time. Levi would love this.”

Sierra’s eyes popped wide as her head jerked up. “Try putting another one in there and I’ll discombobulate all of you.”

“You’re going to fuddle us?”

“What the hell does fuddle mean?” She hissed as cold lube trickled down her ass crack, over her anus, to coat the invaders. When Liam pushed gently, all thoughts of discombobulating and fuddling vanished under the unholy fullness commandeering her senses. “Oh. My. God.”

Mack’s head fell back against the couch. “Be very careful how you go from here, Liam.”

“Not even halfway yet,” her Daddy growled. Apparently, he was in a growly mood tonight; she loved it, that rumbling rasp that was so primal and fierce. “Any pain, Sierra?”

Strangely, no. Not quite anyway. She hovered on the precipice of feeling as though her core was going to burst at the seams, torn between acutely fine pain and disastrous pleasure. A rough thrust, the wrong angle, and something— her —would have to give, but right now… she was just utterly, unashamedly full .

“N-No.” Her lips were numb; was that normal?

With a firm grasp on her hips, Liam rocked gently, intensifying that overwhelming sensation of being stuffed. His cock pressed hard against the skin separating her vagina and anus, teasing the nerve endings in her back passage.

Was this how a turkey felt at Christmas?

What was Mack feeling? Liam? They had to be experiencing something similar to her, right? Well, not full as such, but squashed?

Her breath began to come in pants, her mouth open in an attempt to absorb the shock. She whimpered, unable to stop herself clamping down on them.

“You can let her go, Mack. We’re in.”

“All the way?”

“All the goddamn way.”

“How exciting for you,” Sierra croaked sarcastically. She missed Mack’s arms the moment they dropped away, but his hands claimed her waist as Liam ran his palm up her spine to collar her throat from behind. “What happens next? It’s not like you two can do anything.”

“Oh, poor, misguided minx. You have no idea.” A hum of amusement stroked the words even as trepidation shimmered down her spine. “Mack, you go first.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

First?

“Thank Christ. You’re sure you used enough lube?”

“We’re slicker than an oil spill.”

Really? Because she begged to disagree. “Wait, what do you mean, go first? ”

The reply they gave her wasn’t verbal. Adjusting himself beneath her, Mack eased her into a sitting position, running a finger over her lips when she moaned. A slow roll of his hips slid him out of her to the halfway point, then he thrust back in.

As he filled her again, Liam mimicked his actions. They were two parts of the same whole, learning to function in unison, finding the rhythm together. They matched each other perfectly, quickly falling into a beat only they could hear.

Sitting up, resting her hands on Mack’s chest, made everything so much tighter. They pummeled her, strong and relentless, until a tremor spiked through her, arching her back.

Eyes rolling back in her head, she no longer thought of them as two cocks plundering a hole. As muscles seized and nerve endings shrieked in ecstasy, they weren’t Mack and Liam, and she wasn’t Sierra.

They were just one.

Sweat and lube coated their skin. She wasn’t the only one shaking as they pistoned into her, breathing hard and heavy, bodies straining for an extra inch, a harder thrust, the ultimate goal.

“Take the left,” Liam grunted, his hand sneaking around beneath her to claim the jostling weight of her tender breast. Fondling her gently in comparison to his manic movements, his thumb brushed over her distended nipple where it was caught in its magnetic trap.

Mack whistled lowly, the sound broken by his ragged breaths. Concentration scored his eyes when they burned into hers. He reached out and cupped her breast, leaning forward to kiss her. “Batten down the hatches, pixie.”

She blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“When you’re ready, Mack.” Liam’s voice was terse.

“Now.”

They switched rhythms, surging inside her and retreating again in unison. Her nails dug into Mack’s chest, her toes curling until they threatened to cramp. Her body was coiling tighter and tighter, contracting to the point of pain.

“Three,” Liam hissed, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“Two,” Mack groaned, snapping his hips up in a desperate thrust.

“One,” they said in perfect sync…

…And ripped the tiny steel crowns off her nipples.

Oh shit.

One beat. Two.

Her breath exploded free on a cry as they both rammed inside her to the hilt, an instant before the blood returned to her starved nipples in a savage pulse of sensation. Her breasts throbbed in painful harmony with her racing heartbeat, the pain leeching through her blood to infect every part of her until it reached the pinnacle and became sweet, addictive pleasure.

It struck her core, her clit, and time was suddenly inconsequential.

Someone screamed.

High and long and… rapturous.

She lost control of her body, feeling herself writhe and twist, bucking mindlessly for more, to keep the orgasm at its strongest. She heard her men find their own nirvana—Mack’s litany of profanity rode on a groan deep enough to rumble through his chest, while Liam unleashed his with a bellow.

She collapsed onto Mack with a smack of damp flesh to damp flesh, her heart thudding against her ribs, his echoing right back at her. Spasms rippled through her core, caressing the softening lengths inside her, as Liam sighed heavily and folded over the top of her.

Floating on the in-between, she snuggled herself between her men. There was more than just the high of a wonderful orgasm here, more than just the strengthening and blossoming of their united bond.

For the first time, she experienced a sense of profound peace, as though something inside her, something she couldn’t identify, wasn’t in pain anymore.

With Mack’s heartbeat beneath her ear and Liam’s against her back, she felt…

Whole.

Liam

Sometimes, he questioned his actions as a Dom.

As Sierra’s Dom.

Especially now there was the Daddy element in the mix. There was always the nagging question of whether he was pushing her too hard, not enough. For too many months to count, he’d let her keep her distance sexually; at first, they’d been too mired in grief to scene, but when even their vanilla attempts at intimacy failed to get her pregnant, their sex life just dwindled to the occasional fuck for… well, hell if he knew.

But this was where she thrived. He understood now how wrong he’d been to allow her the physical distance; that had been the worst mistake of his life. She belonged with him, beneath him, over him. She came to life when hands were on her, not just his but those she trusted—those he chose to touch her.

Saturday night, at Levi’s place, was the furthest he’d ever push her boundaries. He was a man who loved seeing others cherishing his woman the same way he did, particularly when Sierra’s sexual history was fraught with derision and rejection. He was just aware how easily her mind slipped from enjoyment to shame, from willing submissive to unwilling slut.

But this… what they’d done here… he didn’t need to question himself, to wonder if he’d done the right thing.

The shift in her was tangible, physical.

It was hard to explain, even to himself, yet it was right there beneath him in the softness of her exhausted body. A calmness, stillness even, where usually a thin vein of chaotic thoughts undermined her confidence.

“How the hell have I never done this before?” Mack murmured, a touch of awe in his quiet voice. “That was some spiritual level shit.”

Liam smiled. “Did your soul take a road trip?”

“Something along those lines.” He stroked a hand reverently over Sierra’s damp hair, fondling the fine red strands. “Pixie, are you still with us?”

She responded with a super slow babble of slurred nonsense, then moaned.

“Our good girl.” Liam infused his tone with as much love and praise as he possibly could, peppering her sweat-slicked shoulders with kisses. Her skin twitched under the brush of his beard, the skim of his lips. “I think she learned her lesson, Mack.”

“I think she just learned how to push our buttons for very kinky sex,” Mack corrected, laughing when Liam arched an eyebrow. “Maybe it started as a punishment, but she came harder than both of us together.”

That was true. Perhaps he’d created a bigger brat—wouldn’t that be fun?

“She did, and we need to extricate ourselves before her pussy swells. There’s going to be some bruising as well.” Hating the idea of leaving such a snug haven, with his dick pressed tantalizingly against Mack’s, Liam heaved an exasperated breath and prepared to move. “Dibs on not cleaning up this mess.”

“Hey! You didn’t say we were doing dibs.”

He smirked. “Didn’t say we weren’t, either.”

“Asshole.” Mack pouted in mock annoyance.

Liam stretched a bit further forward, mindful of Sierra beneath him, and kissed that sulky mouth until it curved. Shit, if he wasn’t careful, their girl was going to take a second ride on her Doms. “Relax. I’ll ask one of the cleaning crews to come over tomorrow and deep clean… fuck, everything in the vicinity.”

“Well, that’s mean. We have all the fun, they get the dirty work.”

“Trust me, with the money they get paid for doing the dirty work, they’ll be able to retire comfortably in about five years. Evander likes a clean house and he’s willing to pay for it.” Liam thought of his own bank account—one of the reasons he’d agreed to take the position here was how much it would increase in only a few months. Taking care of Sierra was a priority and, God help them, if one day he wasn’t there to do it, he wanted her to have the means at her disposal. “They’ll do a thorough job, probably better than we can do. Elias orders in some special products by the crate.”

Spying his shirt barely hanging on to the edge of the couch arm, Liam leaned over and snagged it. Minimizing the carnage might win him some bonus points with the crew. “I’m going to pull out and stem the flow. Can you get her up and to the bathroom, or do you need me to carry her?”

“Are you asking if I’m weak from an orgasm?”

“I was thinking more about having your soul ripped from your balls.” He ducked the half-hearted swipe at his head. “I’m considering logistics, that’s all. Sierra’s almost out of it, so she’ll be heavy. I want us all to be safe and not some weird after-sex bathroom accident statistic in the ER breakroom.”

“Why not? I love those statistics. Oh, and the X-rays of really weird shit in incredibly awkward places? They’re as fascinating as they are horrifying.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re one of those kooks who spend hours scrolling through pictures of some guy with a Barbie doll up his ass?”

“Not hours scrolling,” Mack mused with a thoughtful expression. “I do waste considerable time pondering exactly how that doll gets there to start with, and why anyone considers them suitable for that kind of play. I mean, do they hold up a doll in one hand and a rubber dick in the other, then decide it’s an arm day?”

Liam snorted hard enough to irritate the back of his throat. Coughing, laughing, he straightened until his weight was off Sierra, setting his hand on her back for balance. “What the hell?”

“Or hairbrushes,” Mack continued, throwing a hand in the air. “What’s the deal with that? Can’t stick a hedgehog up there because, y’know, cruelty to animals and bestiality laws, so we’ll just use our imagination and use a hairbrush instead.”

“Hedgehogs?” Liam stared at him, too busy laughing to breathe.

“And then ,” he added with dramatic flair, “there’s the freaking idiot who gave serious thought as to what his enema should consist of and went with concrete .”

“No fucking way.”

“Mmm-hmm. Concrete in his rectum. That gives real meaning to hardass .”

Shock gave way to laughter once more. “Christ almighty, Mack, do you memorize this shit? Are you the one who gets encores at the Christmas party for reeling off the weirdest facts?”

“It’s the weird stuff that sticks with you.” Nodding sagely, he grinned. “Now are you gonna get your pencil dick out of our sub so we can get her into bed or just stay here all night stewing in our own—”

Gently, Liam eased out, eliciting a soft, perturbed moan from Sierra. His cock felt strange after being compressed in all that sweet, tight heat. “Don’t insult the dick. One day, you might find yourself in Sierra’s position.”

She shifted restlessly, whimpering as she tried to find a more comfortable position. Her legs were probably numb by now, he realized with a curse, and they needed to massage out the cramps before they bathed her.

Before he could mention it, Mack frowned, obviously reaching the same conclusion. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her slightly, letting his dying erection slip free.

Shoving the shirt between her legs—although it was tempting to watch their cum drip out of her—Liam took charge, scooping her up with his other arm to give Mack room to move.

Between them, they stretched her out on the carpet. Mack repositioned the shirt under her ass, then took her right leg as Liam grasped her left. As one unit, they carefully kneaded and massaged her stiff muscles, gently rotating her legs at the hips first, then the knees.

She flapped her hands at them, adorable in her sleepy protests, then dropped her head to the carpet and hummed as the discomfort was painstakingly replaced with the soothing relief that came with aftercare.

By the time they reached her ankles and feet, she had a dreamy smile on her punch-drunk face.

“Maybe we should’ve made her come again. She normally sparks out.” Mack commented, pushing his thumb along her instep.

“Not always. We’ve used and abused her through some vulnerable moments the last couple weeks, and she and I haven’t exactly been overly intimate for a while. Expending emotional energy drains her faster.” Stroking a fingertip over the bridge of her toes, he smiled ruefully. “I love her when she’s like this. Half-aware, half not. Lost in that delirious headspace where the body’s still buzzing and the mind is drugged on its own hormones. There’s no stress, no pain, no doubts. Just existing in a happy bubble.”

Mack paused, uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you still going to want me if she gets pregnant? I mean, I know I’m not exactly a brilliant substitute for a baby, but—”

“You’re not a substitute for anything, Mack. We want you here with us. Our third heart, our lover, our husband when the time comes.” Liam reached over and grasped his neck in a fierce grip. “If we’re blessed with a baby, it’s our baby. Yours and mine, Mack, regardless of whose sperm reached the egg first.”

“Sorry.” Mack cleared his throat. “Slight insecure moment there.”

“Don’t apologize. There are horror stories of polyamory families breaking apart with the birth of a child. Fathers getting jealous of their babies resembling the other man, demanding paternity tests, creating rifts and destroying the unity.” Liam gave him a quick squeeze. “That’s not us. A baby would be a miracle; why the hell would we pick it apart?”

“She really wants one, doesn’t she?”

“Desperately.”

Mack nodded slowly, lifting his gaze to meet Liam’s without a trace of doubt. “Then we find a way to give her one.”

“Yeah. That’s the goal.”

They stared at each other, reading the intentions, the unspoken words, the pacts that formed without vocalizing a single syllable. They were bound in their love to Sierra, by their own fascination with each other, and words weren’t needed.

“Daddy?” Sierra’s plaintive whine cut between them. “Need to pee.”

The moment was broken, but the bond was not.

“I’ll go run the bath,” Mack murmured. “You’ve given me more time tending to her than you had to since we met. This is your time with her now.”

Liam nodded as Mack got to his feet and strode, buck naked, toward the bathroom. Damn, that was an ass and a half. Shaking it off, he helped Sierra sit up and loop her limp arms around his neck. “How are you feeling, babygirl?”

“I have owies.”

When she was secure, he surged to his feet, hooking an arm under her ass. “We’ll help with the owies,” he promised, following in Mack’s wake. “Did you enjoy that or did we push you too far?”

“S’all good,” she sighed, burrowing her face in his neck. “Just sore.”

He didn’t want to tell her peeing might be the most harrowing experience of her life in a few minutes. Giving her a kiss on the temple, he stepped into the bathroom as water hit the bottom of the tub. “We’ll get you all cleaned up and some gel for your owies. Do you want a drink?”

“Hmm.”

“On it,” Mack said immediately. “Water or juice, pixie?”

She mumbled something that sounded like deuce .

“I’ll get you some juice,” he replied in a very passable Daddy voice. As he passed them, he stopped and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, pixie.”

Liam’s heart did a crazy twist in his chest, love for them both spreading furiously through his veins. “Here’s the deal, minx. I’m gonna slide you down onto your feet and sit you on the toilet. No peeing until you’re sat, okay?”

“M’kay, Daddy.”

With bated breath, he eased her down until her feet touched the tiles. Her knees couldn’t support her weight for long, so he guided her onto the seat and held her upright as she sleepily emptied her bladder.

“Owie, owie, owie,” she whispered.

He helped her clean up, then lifted her back onto his hip, flushing the toilet as Mack returned with two glasses of water and another of orange juice. He tilted his head toward the tub, pleased Mack understood his silent directive.

Setting the glasses along the edge, Mack swiped his hand through the rising water, nodding in approval, and climbed in. The bath wasn’t as generous in size as Levi’s, but it was large enough to hold all three of them almost comfortably.

“Go to Mack, babygirl.” Crouching, Liam steadied her as she blindly obeyed, twisting and reaching for her other Daddy. When Mack cradled her upper body, Liam gently transferred her legs into the water.

For a few heartbeats, he stayed where he was, watching Mack fuss over her, letting her try and crawl into him. She rubbed her cheek over his chest, idly kneading his ribs as she lay on her side.

Maybe Liam should’ve been jealous that she showed Mack such love and affection, that her trust in him was well rooted. It should’ve infuriated him that Mack returned all those emotions tenfold, loving her just as deeply.

Instead, he found the contentedness he’d searched for with Wyatt and always been thwarted. He’d been blind back then, trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, hoping to make a family with the woman he loved and a man who didn’t quite love her back the same way.

Wyatt had never loved her this way, looking at her as though the world was in his hands. He’d never been able to stare into her eyes and see her for the woman she was, her kindness and generosity, her willingness to forgive, the loving heart she’d once held out for him on open palms.

Mack adored her. He didn’t have to hide feelings of revulsion or pretend she was someone else to get an erection. His hands stroked her tenderly, as though she was precious glass to be touched reverently. It was his heart offered in his hands, held out to her, to Liam.

No, there was no jealousy, no irrational fury.

Just love and respect.

Exhaling slowly, he rose and walked over to the sink, opening the cupboard beneath and examining the contents. The welcome basket Callie had put together for their arrival was full to the brim of various products—things he’d never really thought about as a gift.

Lotions, potions, bath bombs…

Sierra was more of a new thread and fabric kind of girl. Anything she could use to heal her babies was the best gift she could receive.

Selecting a bottle of orange stuff, he cracked the lid and sniffed. Oh yeah, she’d smell amazing in orange and cinnamon. When he returned to the bath, he opened the lid fully and poured a generous amount into the water, watching the bubbles begin to form.

“Daddy Liam’s spoiling us, pixie,” Mack said quietly, resting his chin on the top of her head while those mercurial eyes searched Liam’s face. “The water’s perfect, Liam.”

The water and everything in it, he thought, setting the bottle aside and stepping in. It was almost to his knees, a few degrees shy of too hot. He sank down into it, grateful the taps were on the side of the tub instead of the end, and tucked his legs down the outside of Mack’s.

“Want me to pass her over?” Mack asked.

“No.” Resting his arms on the sides of the tub, Liam leaned back and smiled. “Both of you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Right here with me .