Merry Little Cluster Fudge (The Price of Love #3.5)

3. Chapter Three

Wick

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paradise Cove." The pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "The local time is 2:15 p.m., and the temperature is a balmy 82 degrees Fahrenheit."

As we disembarked, the heat hit me like a wall. Mia tugged at my shorts. "Daddy, it's so hot! Can we go swimming right now?"

I laughed, ruffling her hair. "Soon, Mimi. We need to check in first."

A sleek shuttle whisked us from the small airport to the resort, and we wound our way through lush tropical foliage.

Paradise Cove lived up to its name. The sprawling complex of white-washed buildings and thatched-roof bungalows nestled against a pristine beach, the Caribbean Sea stretching endlessly beyond.

As we piled out of the shuttle, Cara let out the kind of ear-piercing squeal only a three-year-old can deliver. "Look! A parrot!"

Sure enough, a vibrant macaw perched on a nearby palm tree, regarding us with what looked like amusement.

Check-in was a whirlwind of room keys, resort maps, and excited chatter. Our family suite was more like a small house, with multiple bedrooms, a massive living area, and a private plunge pool on the terrace.

I had just finished unpacking when there was a knock at the door. Opening it, I found Carter, Olivia, and their kids standing in the hallway.

"Hey, big brother!" Olivia chirped, her sunny smile as bright as ever. "We thought we'd offer to take the twins down to the beach. Give you, Marco, and Meghan a little... alone time." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Heat crept up the back of my neck. "Uh, thanks, Liv. That's... thoughtful of you."

Carter smirked. "Yeah, wouldn't want you three to waste any time christening the room."

Case tugged on his dad's shorts. "What does 'christening' mean, Daddy?"

"Uh... it means... to bless something new. Right, Wick?"

I fought to keep a straight face. "Something like that, buddy."

Olivia shook her head. "Nice save, babe. Anyway, where are my niece and nephew?"

"AUNT LIVVY!" Twin voices shrieked from behind me as Mia and Lucas barreled past, nearly knocking me over.

"Whoa there, munchkins!" Olivia laughed, scooping them both up in a hug. "Ready for some beach time?"

"YES!" they chorused.

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Liv. We'll come join you guys in a bit."

As Olivia herded the kids down the hall, Carter lingered, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I snorted. "That doesn't narrow it down much, Cassidy."

"True enough. Have fun, man."

He threw me a wink and sauntered off. I closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. Christ, is it that obvious we've been itching for some alone time? The thought of Marco and Meghan waiting for me in our room made my mouth go dry and my skin tingle.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and I could hear soft laughter from within. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open.

Meghan and Marco were sprawled on the king-sized bed, already down to their underwear. Meghan's golden hair fanned out on the pillow, her blue eyes twinkling as she beckoned me over.

"Took you long enough, cucciolo," Marco drawled, his olive skin glistening in the sunlight streaming through the windows. "We were about to start without you."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" I managed, my voice husky.

Meghan sat up. Her rosy nipples strained against the delicate lace of her bra. "Then get over here and kiss me, Wick Friedman."

I reached the bed in two strides and pulled Meghan into a hungry kiss. Her lips were soft and eager, tasting faintly of the champagne we'd shared on the plane. Marco's strong hands found my hips, tugging me closer.

As we broke apart, panting, I caught Marco's heated gaze. "Your turn," I growled, claiming his mouth and unleashing my pent up desire in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

Meghan's nimble fingers made quick work of my shirt buttons, pushing the fabric off my shoulders. Her lips trailed fire along my collarbone, and I couldn't hold back a groan.

"God, I've missed this," I breathed, running my hands through Marco's dark curls.

"Me too," Meghan murmured against my skin. "It's been way too long."

Marco hummed in agreement as he worked my belt buckle loose. "Then let's make up for lost time, shall we?"

As clothes hit the floor and hands roamed eager flesh, I vaguely registered the sound of waves crashing on the beach outside. But it all seemed distant and surreal. My head was full of the delicious contrast between Meghan's soft curves and Marco's hard planes.

Marco laid a trail of hot kisses down my chest, igniting every nerve ending. I moaned and arched into the caress. Meghan tangled her fingers in my hair and tugged gently, swallowing my groans with another demanding kiss.

I lost myself in the sensations. Marco's stubble scraped against my stomach as he moved lower, sending a jolt up my spine. Meghan's breathy gasps filled my ears as I palmed her breast, feeling her nipple pebble under my touch.

"Fuck, I need you," I rasped, breaking away from Meghan's lips to catch my breath.

She grinned, an evil glint in her eye. "Show us how much."

I flipped her onto her back and settled between her thighs. Her surprised squeak melted into a moan as I slid into her slick heat.

Marco pressed against my back, his cock hard against my ass. "Don't forget about me," he said, nipping at my earlobe.

I turned my head, capturing his lips in a messy kiss. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With a grunt, I hauled Meghan against me, our bodies tangling as we rolled. The cool sheets underneath me were such a sharp contrast to the inferno of her skin as she straddled me. Her golden mane—longer than I’d ever seen it—cascaded around us. I wanted to wrap it around my fist and tug.

Her azure eyes locked onto mine, pupils blown wide with desire. The wicked curve of her lips promised delicious torment as she ground her slippery folds against my throbbing cock. The friction sent static bolts up my spine, drawing a guttural groan from deep in my chest.

"Fuck, Meg," I gasped, my hands stroking her thighs, kneading the supple, silken flesh. "You're so wet for us."

Meghan's throaty chuckle sent vibrations through her core, straight to my twitching cock. "Just wait, baby," she purred, rolling her hips in a maddeningly slow circle. "It's about to get even better."

Before I could process her words, the mattress dipped behind her. Marco pressed in against Meghan's back. Once again, they were a study in contrasts, his olive skin against her porcelain complexion. The musky scent of his cologne mingled with Meghan's sweetness, creating a sensual cocktail that made my head spin. His warm eyes met mine over her shoulder, dark with hunger.

"Ready?" His voice was rough with desire. My balls were heavy and aching, and my cock throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

Meghan nodded, her breath hitching as she raised her hips. I felt the blunt head of Marco's cock nudge against mine, both of us poised at her entrance. She sank down with agonizing slowness, taking us both inside her impossibly tight pussy.

"Holy fuck," I choked out, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of Meghan's clutching heat and the maddening friction of Marco's rigid length pressing against my shaft. It was almost too much. The mind-blowing pleasure threatened to short-circuit my brain.

Meghan's back bowed, a keening moan escaping her parted lips. "God, yes," she panted, her walls fluttering around us. "Both of you, please—I need you to move."

Marco set a torturous pace, each slow, measured thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through my body. I gripped Meghan's hips tighter, guiding her movements as we found our rhythm. The obscene sounds of our joined bodies filled the air, punctuated by gasps and groans.

Sweat beaded on my brow and trickled down my temples. Meghan's nails raked down my chest, leaving stinging trails in their wake. The pain only heightened my pleasure, my hips bucking up to meet each downward stroke.

"Fuck, you two are gorgeous," Marco groaned, his pace increasing. He cupped Meghan's breast with one hand, thumb flicking over her hardened nipple. His other hand found my thigh and squeezed possessively. Pleasure coiled in my gut, winding tighter and tighter.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the erotic picture above me—Meghan's face contorted with bliss, her lips parted in a silent scream. Marco's muscles rippling with each powerful thrust, a thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the dim light. The sight, combined with the overwhelming sensations, had me teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"I'm so close," Meghan whimpered, her pussy clenching around us like a vise. "Please, I need—I need more."

Answering her plea, I slid a hand between us, finding her swollen clit with practiced ease. The moment my fingers made contact, she cried out, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. I circled the sensitive bud with firm, quick strokes, feeling her thighs quiver against my sides.

Marco's thrusts grew more erratic, his breathing ragged and hot. "Come for us, gattina," he urged, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Let us feel you fall apart."

As if on command, Meghan shattered. She threw her head back, a hoarse scream tearing from her throat as she came. Her cunt clenched around us with bruising force, rippling and pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her frame.

The exquisite pressure was my undoing. "Fuck, I'm gonna—" The rest of my sentence was lost in a groan as my orgasm crashed over me. My balls tightened, and liquid fire raced through my veins as I emptied myself deep inside Meghan's quivering core.

Through the haze of my own release, I felt Marco tense behind Meghan, a string of Italian curses falling from his lips as he joined us in blissful oblivion. The scolding heat of his release pushed me into sensory overload. I trembled with aftershocks, barely aware of where I ended and they began.

For a long moment, we stayed frozen, our bodies intertwined, breath mingling in the humid air. I could feel the thundering of Meghan's heart and Marco's labored breathing hot on my neck. Then, with a reluctant groan, Marco carefully withdrew. Meghan whimpered at the loss, collapsing onto my chest in a boneless heap.

I wrapped my arms around her, dropping a kiss on her sweat-dampened hair. Marco flopped down beside us, his hand finding mine and interlacing our fingers.

"Holy shit," I finally managed, my voice cracked and broken.

Marco chuckled. "I think we just set a new record for christening a room."

I snickered. "Pretty sure this goes beyond christening and straight into?—"

"MOMMY!" A wailing scream from the living room had all three of us jolting into action.

I rushed out of the bedroom, nearly tripping as I yanked on my swim trunks. My heart raced, torn between concern for the kids and frustration at the interruption. As I burst into the living room, I saw Olivia standing there, cradling a sobbing Mia against her hip. Both had covered their eyes with their hands.

"I'm so sorry!" Olivia exclaimed, her voice muffled behind her palm. "Mia tripped and scraped her knee. I tried calling, but..."

My cheeks burned, remembering where my phone was—still in my discarded shorts. "It's okay, Liv. You can, uh, uncover your eyes now."

She peeked through her fingers then dropped her hand with a relieved sigh. Mia, however, kept hers firmly in place.

"Mimi, sweetie," I said gently, "let Daddy see your boo-boo."

She shook her head vigorously. "No! You're naked!"

I laughed softly. "I've got shorts on. It's safe to look."

She lowered her hand cautiously, her big brown eyes still watery with tears. I knelt down, examining the angry red scrape on her knee.

"Where's Mommy?" Mia whimpered, her lower lip trembling.

"She's coming. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

As I carried Mia to the bathroom, I heard Meghan's voice behind me. "What happened, baby girl?"

Meghan had emerged from the bedroom, hastily wrapping a robe. Her hair was still tousled, cheeks flushed. Marco appeared a moment later, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"She tripped," I explained, setting Mia on the counter. "Nothing a little soap and a band-aid won't fix."

Meghan leaned against the counter beside us, stroking Mia's hair as I cleaned the scrape. "My poor girl," she cooed, giving our daughter a kiss on the forehead.

Mia sniffed and swiped a hand over her eyes. "Can we still go swimming?"

I exchanged a look with Meghan and Marco. So much for our afternoon plans for a few more orgasms.

"Of course, princess," Marco said.

I watched as Meghan finished tending to Mia's scraped knee, her gentle touch soothing our daughter's sniffles. Marco crouched beside them, ruffling Mia's dark curls—identical to his own. The resemblance between them was striking. They had the same soulful brown eyes and olive undertones to their skin.

Lucas barreled into the bathroom, nearly falling over Marco in his eagerness. "Is Mia okay?" he asked, worry creasing his little brow. The spitting image of his sister—of their father.

A familiar ache bloomed in my chest, but I pushed it aside. Biology didn't define family. I may not share DNA with the twins, but I'd been there for every scraped knee, every nightmare, every milestone. I was their daddy just as much as Marco was.

But do they know that? Despite my best efforts, the unwelcome thought slunk in. I shook it off, focusing on the present.

"She's fine, buddy," I assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just a little scrape. Nothing Super Mia can't handle, right?"

Mia's face lit up, her tears forgotten. "Yeah! I'm Super Mia!" She flexed her little arms, giggling.

Marco caught my eye over the kids' heads, a knowing smile playing at his lips. In that moment, I knew he understood. We were in this together, all of us.

As I helped Mia off the counter, she wrapped her arms around my neck, her warm breath tickling my ear. " Now can we go swimming, Daddy?"

I laughed, scooping her up in my arms. "Alright, Super Mia. Let's hit the beach."

"Can you teach me to swim like a mermaid?"

"Anything for you, Mimi."