Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Amelia

Oliver, Misha, Grey, and I stand in a tense semicircle around Mr. Donovan’s hospital bed. The steady beeping of the monitor punctuates the silence, each sound a reminder of how close we came to losing him. The sterile smell of antiseptic lingers in the air, mingling with the faint scent from the flowers Oliver placed on the windowsill.

But he’s awake.

He woke up an hour ago, and as soon as we got the call, we piled into the Tesla and raced to the hospital. Morgan has been here through the night and almost the whole day today, reassuring Grey that he didn’t have to be here, too, as long as Mr. Donovan was still unconscious.

She was exhausted but smiling when we handed over Peanut in the parking lot before she headed home for a few hours of desperately needed sleep.

Now, Mr. Donovan sits upright in the bed, his skin pale like the white sheets, but the familiar warmth in his eyes is undimmed.

He was lucky, if you can call it that , to have been here when it happened, surrounded by professionals who reacted in an instant to his stroke. Although it was severe, and he’ll likely face lasting paralysis in his left arm, his speech remains unaffected.

He’ll be here for a few more days while they run tests, adjust his medication, and start rehabilitation for his arm. Despite everything, he seems to be in good spirits. Morgan even mentioned earlier, that she’s taking this opportunity to learn everything she can from the professionals so she can oversee his recovery at home and keep up the rehabilitation exercises.

She’s determined to ensure Mr. Donovan makes a full recovery. He’ll rely on her now more than ever, and there’s a collective relief among us from knowing she’s here, ready to take charge and guide us through this.

“Make sure you’re taking Peanut out at least once a day, Grey. I don’t want all the responsibility falling on Morgan,” Mr. Donovan says a bit weaker than usual but still carrying that gentle authority.

Grey nods, his expression serious. “I already talked to her about it, and we’ll split it evenly.”

Mr. Donovan’s tired eyes crinkle in a small smile. “Good, good. Thank you.”

We all see the exhaustion creeping into his features. The conversation, brief as it’s been, has already drained him.

Oliver steps forward. “We’re going to let you rest now, but we’re just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Day or night, don’t hesitate,” Misha adds with a smile.

“There are visiting hours,” Mr. Donovan protests weakly, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Which doesn’t mean shit if you can give the security system a blackout,” Grey mutters under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Misha and me .

“Boy,” Mr. Donovan chastises gently, though there’s a twinkle in his eye.

“Fine,” Grey grumbles, but a smile breaks through his feigned annoyance. “We’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll bring you some headphones and audiobooks.”

“And cake,” I chime in, earning a genuine smile from him.

As we start to gather our things, Mr. Donovan stops me. “Amelia?”

“Yes?” I turn back, noticing the unusual seriousness in his gaze.

Oh.

“Can I speak to you for a second?”

I nod when Grey comes to stand beside me, clearly reluctant to leave. Oliver and Misha exchange glances before quietly slipping out of the room.

“Alone,” Mr. Donovan says softly, giving Grey a pointed look. With a sigh, Grey finally relents and kisses my temple before he heads toward the door. Casting one last worried glance over his shoulder, he closes it behind him. When he’s gone, Mr. Donovan gives me a smile. “Come here, dear.”

I come to stand beside the bed, and he reaches out with his right hand to take mine, squeezing it. His skin is cool to the touch, and the small tremor of his fingers reminds me just how much he’s been through.

“How is Grey?” he asks, his underlying concern clear.

I consider sugarcoating my response but decide against it. Mr. Donovan doesn’t need comforting lies.

He wants the truth.

“He was pretty devastated yesterday,” I admit, feeling the weight of those words settle between us. “But I think we all feel a lot better now that you’re awake.” I squeeze his hand in return, offering what comfort I can .

Mr. Donovan’s eyes soften as he looks at me, searching my face. “Amelia…” he begins but pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I need you to look after Grey.” I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that Grey doesn’t need looking after, but he raises his hand, silencing me with the gesture. “He needs you more than he’ll ever admit.”

“He has you,” I argue softly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Mr. Donovan’s expression grows solemn, the kind of seriousness that sends a chill down my spine. “I felt how fragile life is when it can end in mere seconds,” he shares quietly. “The only thing I could think about while the doctors were bustling around me and I couldn’t move was how Grey would cope without me.”

My heart clenches at the thought, his words hitting me hard.

It’s not just Grey who would struggle to cope.

I know Oliver and Misha love him too.

And Morgan.

… I do too.

“Grey loves big, and he needs someone who loves him as much as he loves them,” Mr. Donovan continues. “Who can handle his past. He has his friends, and I’m grateful for that. But he needs someone special, someone who will always have his back, someone he can be vulnerable with. He’s always the strong one for them. I’m the only one he allows himself to be weak with. I need to know that he can be weak with you when I’m not there anymore to allow him a break from being strong.”

Tears blur my vision as I hear the unspoken plea. “I will be strong for him so he can be weak,” I promise.

“Do you love him, Amelia?” Mr. Donovan asks, his gaze penetrating as if the answer to the question is the key to everything .

“I do,” I whisper, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “I love all three of them more than anything else.”

Mr. Donovan’s face softens into a gentle smile, one filled with relief and peace. He squeezes my hand again, this time with a little more strength. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he says softly. “Knowing that you love him back makes all the difference.”

With one final squeeze, he releases my hand and leans back against the pillows, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “Go on now,” he says, the faint smile still playing on his lips. “He’ll be waiting.”

I nod, blinking away the tears as I stand slowly, taking one last look at him. His eyes are already closing in exhaustion, but there’s a sense of calm about him that reassures me everything will be okay.

Walking out of the room, I find Grey waiting just outside, his anxious eyes searching mine. I reach out and take his hand. “He’s okay,” I whisper, and for the first time since yesterday, Grey’s shoulders relax just a little. “He just wanted to make sure I’ll look after you.”

Grey pulls me closer, kissing my forehead. “You’d do that?” he questions, smiling against my skin.

“I would do anything for you,” I answer truthfully, hugging him to me.

“Really?” Grey chuckles, “How about three meals a day and a regular sleep schedule?”

Fuck.

I pause. “Anything within the realm of possibilities.”

Grey chuckles as he lets go of me and takes my hand again.

We walk farther down the hallway, spotting Oliver and Misha waiting by the exit. Misha catches sight of us, and without a word, he extends his hand, fingers wiggling in an exaggerated invitation. I smile and take his hand in my free one, feeling the warmth of his fingers as they curl around mine.

“Of course, try to steal my girl.” Grey snorts softly beside me, shaking his head at Misha’s antics, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m stealing our girl,” Misha throws a glance at him, his smirk widening.

Their girl.

I smile at Oliver, who’s already smiling at me.

We make our way back to the Tesla and get in, the atmosphere growing somber again. The engine purrs to life, and Grey pulls out of the hospital parking lot. In the silence of the car, it seems we are all at a loss for words but then my stomach growls, making all three of them laugh.

One way to break the tension.

A quick glance at the clock tells me that it is indeed dinnertime.

“I’ll cook something when we get back,” Grey offers, his voice tinged with fatigue, but still he carries that unwavering sense of responsibility.

I glance at him from the passenger seat, noting the tired lines etched into his face. “How about we order something instead?”

Grey opens his mouth to protest, but then he catches the look on my face and sighs, relenting. “All right. But no pizza,” he concedes.

Misha leans forward from the back seat, resting his chin on the edge of Grey’s seat. “How about we get some Pho? There’s that place near Pike Place Market that delivers, and their broth is basically magic.”

Oliver nods in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“Princess? Do you like Vietnamese food?” Grey glances at me before his gaze goes back to the road .

“Absolutely.”

“Noodles it is, then,” he agrees.

Misha pulls out his phone to place the order. “I’ll get some spring rolls too. You know, for balance.”

“Remember to check for peanuts,” Grey mutters, and I shoot him an exasperated look.

As if I couldn’t check for them myself.

“Like I’d ever forget that,” Misha murmurs, tapping on his screen.

By the time we pull into the garage and make our way up to their apartment, the earlier heaviness of the day feels more like a dull ache.

“Are you going to hang out with us for the rest of the weekend?” Grey asks, the question casual but tinged with hope.

I smile at the invitation. “Yeah, I’d like that. But I’ll need to grab a few things from my flat first.”

Misha waves a dismissive hand. “Let’s eat first, then we’ll help you. No sense in doing anything on an empty stomach.”

“Agreed,” Oliver chimes in. “No one’s allowed to do anything until we’ve had our fill of soup and noodles.”

“Fine, fine.” I laugh, holding up my hands in surrender. “I’ll wait.”

Soon, the food gets delivered, and the smell of the Pho fills the kitchen. We gather around the kitchen island, and although the first few bites are taken in a comfortable silence, it doesn’t take long for Misha to break it.

“So,” he starts, a sly grin spreading across his face as he dips a piece of spring roll into the soy sauce. “Who’s going to admit that Grey’s little tracking app stunt was the highlight of the week?”

I almost choke on my noodles as Grey groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “Misha, I swear… ”

I already guessed that they talked about what happened this morning when Grey caught up to the guys to tell them about Mr. Donovan and was wondering how we could broach the subject.

Apparently like this.

Misha eyes me as if to gauge if I’m comfortable with the topic, but when I smile at him, he doesn’t miss a beat, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying that I like that we all have to share our locations with each other now. I mean, it’s only fair. If you get to know where Amelia is at all times, then I get to know where you are at all times.”

Oliver leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “And you know what this means, right, Grey?”

Grey narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Enlighten me.”

“It means no more sneaking off to get coffee without us. I’ve got eyes on you now, and I will know when you go to the coffee shop two blocks down without bringing us some.”

Grey narrows his eyes at Oliver, and I laugh, shaking my head. “So basically, we’re all each other’s personal surveillance team now. How very… dystopian.”

“We already are, little miss security feed. But if it means I get to track Grey’s every move and make sure he’s not overworking himself, I’m all for it. Plus, think of the benefits. We’ll never lose each other at conventions again.” Misha shrugs, popping another spring roll into his mouth.

“You go to conventions?” I ask, chuckling.

I didn’t know that was something they enjoyed.

“ We go to conventions. You’re part of the crew now, Bug.” Misha smiles, and although I’m not quite sure if that is a thing I’d enjoy either, I very much enjoy feeling the sense of belonging that just crept up.

“Sure, Comic-Con, knight games… it could come in handy. Or when we get lost in the city,” Oliver adds with a no d directed at Misha. “Which, let’s be honest, happens more often than he’d like to admit.”

Misha just shrugs at the jab, and Grey sighs, but he’s laughing now too. “I’m starting to regret some of my life choices.”

“Too late,” I tease, giving him a playful nudge with my elbow. “You did this to yourself, Doctor Donovan.”

Misha raises his bowl in a mock toast. “To transparency, mutual stalking, and ensuring Grey doesn’t pull any more coffee runs without us.”

“To that,” I agree, clinking my chopsticks against his bowl in a makeshift toast. The others join in, and for a moment, the laughter and warmth fill the kitchen, pushing back the shadows of the day.

By the time we finish eating, the mood in the room has completely shifted. Grey looks more relaxed, the tension from the hospital visit having melted away.

Clearing the dishes, Grey glances at the clock. “Do you want to go grab your things now?”

I shake my head at the suggestion. “No, I’d like to relax on the couch for a bit first, if that’s okay?” I ask through a yawn, the long night and exhaustion from the uncertainty catching up with me.

“Sure, Princess.”

We pile onto the couch, and I lean against Oliver, feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he starts stroking my hair. Misha lifts my feet onto his lap while Grey sits down on Oliver’s other side and takes my hand in his. Letting out a contented sigh, I close my eyes.

Surrounded by them, I feel loved, happy, and safe. The words slip out before I can stop them, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” they reply in unison, their voices a soothing chorus .

“I think the beta is over,” I say softly. “I’m ready to launch.”

Oliver stops his movements, prompting me to open my eyes. He leans back to look at me. I meet his gaze, seeing the question there. “You… trust us?”

I smile at him. “I do.”

Misha’s voice is filled with excitement as he asks, “So we’re official?”

Grey snorts. “We’ve always been official, idiot.” He turns to me, his expression serious but soft. “You’ve forgiven us, and you trust us again. No secrets, no hard feelings anymore?”

I nod, feeling my stomach tingle. “We’re good,” I assure them. “More than good. Beta test successful.”

A beat passes in comfortable silence, and then Misha’s hand slides a little higher up my leg over my leggings, his touch light but suggestive. “So,” he starts, seemingly casual. “What happens after a successful beta test?”

Oliver chuckles, his fingers playing with a lock of my hair. “Usually, there’s a celebration,” he teases.

Grey, still holding my hand, leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he murmurs, “Or a reward.”

Oh my God.

I giggle, the sound spilling out unexpectedly, thanks to my nerves. I’ve been thinking about having all three of them together since the charity gala ten days ago. And now, I’m sure I am ready to try it, but my stomach erupts with butterflies at the thought.

“That little giggle…” Grey says, his voice dropping an octave. “Is going to get you fucked.”

A spark of challenge ignites within me, and I turn to face him, my tone provoking. “Is that so?”

Grey doesn’t hesitate or hold back as he captures my lips in a heated kiss, his hand releasing mine only to slide into my hair, pulling me closer as his mouth moves against mine with a fierce hunger. The world narrows to the taste of him, the feel of his tongue as it explores my mouth.

But it’s not just Grey. Oliver grips my waist, and his lips trail down the side of my neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. When Grey lets me come up for air, Misha turns my head back, capturing my lips in a kiss of his own, softer but no less intense.

They take turns, each kiss different yet equally passionate, their hands exploring, teasing, and driving me wild. Misha’s fingers skim the edge of my shirt, lifting it just enough to slide his hands underneath, touching the bare skin of my stomach, and I shiver in response.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Bug,” Misha murmurs against my neck, his hands already pulling at the fabric, eager to rid me of anything that separates us.

Grey’s lips leave mine, but his eyes hold me captive, dark and full of intent. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, seeking confirmation.

I nod, breathless but certain. “So damn sure.”

That’s all the encouragement they need. In an instant, the energy shifts, and hands are everywhere, peeling away clothing, touching, exploring, and claiming every inch of me. In a blur of movement, we’re all naked on the couch, and I find myself pressed between them, each one taking turns to taste my lips, to leave their mark on my skin.

Oliver pulls me back against his chest, and Grey follows, kissing his way up the inside of my thighs. His hands are firm, his lips hot, while Oliver’s touch is more deliberate, calculated in its intent as he glides his finger down my throat.

The room fills with the sounds of our breaths, our whispers, and the occasional moan that escapes my lips. Their hands are on me, each touch a heated caress. Grey’s are on my hips, pulling me closer. Oliver’s are in my hair, tilting my head to meet his lips again, and Misha’s, oh God, Misha’s hands are everywhere, exploring the swell of my breasts, my nipples, drawing soft gasps from me as he finds every sensitive spot.

It’s a sensory overload I can’t get enough of, leaving me writhing in pleasure.

Grey’s breath is hot against my inner thigh, the anticipation building within me, a tide of warmth and longing that threatens to sweep me away. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers through the core of me while his fingers trace light, teasing patterns on my skin.

I lean against Oliver, his chest a steadfast anchor in the sea of sensation that Grey’s touch stirs within me. Oliver’s hands roam over my body with tender reverence, caressing my breasts, teasing my nipples into hard peaks that ache for more of his touch. His lips find the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and I moan as he nips and sucks at the skin, each pull echoing in the deepest parts of me.

Misha stands beside the couch, his eyes dark with desire as he watches us. I reach out for him, my fingers wrapping around the hard length of his cock. He groans at my touch, his hips jerking forward instinctively.

Grey’s tongue finally makes contact, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through me. I gasp, my fingers tightening around Misha as Grey explores me with expert precision, his tongue circling my clit, teasing and flicking with maddening skill. My hips buck as he slides his fingers inside me, filling me, stretching me in the most exquisite way.

I stroke Misha slowly, my hand moving in time with Grey’s masterful tongue between my legs.

Oliver’s hands continue their exploration, sliding down my stomach to join Grey’s, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing in time with Grey’s tongue, the dual sensations overwhelming me, pushing me closer to the brink. I cry out at the intense sensation, my body a live wire under their touch.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Misha whispers, his voice strained as I continue to stroke him. “So responsive, so perfect.”

I lose myself in the sensation, in the overwhelming pleasure of being surrounded by them, loved by them. Each kiss, each touch is a declaration of their desire, their affection, and I feel it all, down to my very core.

The pressure builds inside me, a tight coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment. Grey’s fingers move faster, his tongue working relentlessly, while Oliver’s fingers add just the right amount of pressure to send me over the edge. I tremble and gasp for air as my orgasm crashes over me, my body clenching around Grey’s fingers, my heart pounding in my chest. The aftershocks subside, but Grey continues to lap at me, drawing out my pleasure until I can’t take it anymore.

I release Misha and reach for Grey, pulling him up to kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his lips, a flavor that makes me blush. He pulls me onto his lap, his hands firm on my waist, and when I meet his gaze, I see nothing but love and need reflecting back at me. “You’re ours, Amelia,” he murmurs as he pulls my askew glasses from my face and leans backward to put them on the side table with one hand, making me fall forward on him more. When he turns to grin at me, I respond with a desperate kiss, letting him know that I am completely and utterly theirs.

Grey breaks the kiss, and I’m still riding the high of my orgasm when Misha pulls me off him, his hands firm yet gentle on my waist. “My turn, Bug,” he says with a wicked grin that sends a thrill of excitement through me.

He positions me on the couch, my front against the back, and my knees sinking into the soft cushions, forcing me to grip the back for support. Misha steps in behind me, the heat of his body radiating against my skin. His hands roam over my hips and ass, and I wiggle under his touch, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

“Stay still, naughty girl,” he teases, but his words are heavy with need. “Or I might think you’re trying to tempt me.”

I glance over my shoulder at him, my eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Who, me?”

Misha just shakes his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re something else, Bug.”

Any thoughts of playfulness vanish when he presses into me, his cock filling me completely. He starts to move, each thrust measured and deep, hitting a spot that sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Misha groans, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a punishing rhythm. “So tight, so perfect.”

I moan in response, the sensation of him inside me overwhelming as another orgasm builds, a slow burn that grows more intense with each passing second.

Misha leans over, his lips brushing against my ear. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispers roughly. “You like being fucked by me while they watch.”

I turn and see Oliver and Grey standing next to Misha, both their gazes fixed on where we’re joined. The sight ignites something within me, and I can’t help but grip the couch harder and push back against Misha, matching his rhythm, chasing the release that I know is just within reach.

“Yes…” I whimper as Misha’s fingers expertly strum my clit. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I arch into his touch, desperate for more.

He rewards me with a deep thrust, grinding against me, and I cry out, the sound echoing off the room’s walls. “That’s my girl. Take my cock,” he grits out.

His hand never stops its sweet torment, rubbing my already sensitive clit with just the right pressure to send me spiraling over the edge once again. Another orgasm rips through me, intense and all-consuming, my vision blurring as waves of ecstasy crash over me. I clamp down on Misha’s cock, the intensity of my climax drawing him deeper, and he groans out his own release, his body shuddering against mine.

Misha stays buried within me for several long moments, both of us panting as we come down from the high. When he finally pulls out, I feel the absence, a shiver running through me at the sudden emptiness.

Resting my cheek on the back of the couch, I watch as Misha stands beside Grey, his smile wide. “Having her grip your cock like a fist when she comes is the best feeling ever,” he says, his desire still lingering.

Oliver looks at him with curiosity, a hint of pink coloring his ears. “Is it?” he asks hesitantly.

Misha looks at me, then back at Oliver. “Oh, didn’t you make her come on your cock yet?” he teases.

Oliver’s ears turn a darker shade of red, but I cut in before he can respond. “No, he made me come while I was sitting on his face,” I say firmly, feeling protective of Oliver and his first time. I don’t want him to feel embarrassed or pressured.

Misha lets out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Quiet waters run deep, it seems. Come on, Ollie, sit down. We’re gonna rectify that.”

“Misha,” I chide, breathy from the remnants of pleasure still coursing through me.

“No, I want that, please,” Oliver says, softly. “What… what do I do? ”

Misha takes charge, guiding me with a gentle hand on my waist. “Sit on Oliver’s lap, with your back to his chest.”

Following his instructions, I straddle Oliver’s lap as he positions himself beneath me. His hands grip my hips, steadying me as I reach down to guide his cock to my entrance. I’m slick with Misha’s cum, and the sensation of Oliver’s thick length pressing against me makes me moan.

“That’s it, Bug,” Misha encourages, his eyes dark with desire as he watches us. “Fuck her from beneath, Ollie.”

Oliver’s hands tighten on my hips, and he thrusts upward, filling me completely. I gasp at the sudden fullness, my head falling back against his shoulder as he groans.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

Grey stands next to Misha and watches with intense eyes, his breathing heavy and labored. He groans softly, a low rumble that resonates with every thrust of Oliver’s cock.

Misha kneels before the couch, his face level with my pussy. “And I’m going to…” he says, trailing off as he leans in and drags his tongue over my sensitive flesh. I shudder at the sensation of Oliver’s cock inside me and Misha’s mouth on my clit.

Holy shit.

“You feel so good,” Oliver whispers, his lips brushing against my ear as he continues to thrust into me.

“Can we do this all night?” I ask, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea, making Misha chuckle against me.

Grey’s gaze follows the movements of Misha’s mouth on my clit, his own body tensing with every sound I make. He leans in closer, his breath hot next to my ear as he murmurs, “You look incredible, Amelia.”

I rock my hips, matching Oliver’s pace, while Misha’s hand slides over my thigh, his fingers tracing a teasing path upward until they reach the apex of my thighs. His touch is gentle at first, just a soft pressure, but then one of his fingers begins to push inside me alongside Oliver’s cock.

I gasp at the unexpected intrusion and reach out to grab Grey’s forearm, my body tensing for a moment before relaxing into them. The feeling of being filled so completely is almost too much to handle.

“Do you like that, Amelia?” Misha murmurs as his finger moves inside me. “Do you like having us both inside you?”

I can’t form words, so I just nod, my breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps. The feeling of Misha’s finger next to Oliver’s cock is intense.

Holy fucking shit.

Misha groans, his finger moving in time with Oliver’s thrusts. “One day, I wanna fuck you at the same time as Oliver. Or maybe Grey. Imagine that, Amelia. Two of us inside you at once, filling you up, making you scream our names.

The mere thought of it sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I clench around both Misha’s finger and Oliver’s cock. Both of them groan in response, and Oliver’s cock twitches inside me.

“Fuck, Misha,” Oliver grunts, his hips stuttering beneath me as he struggles to maintain control. “This feels too good.”

Misha chuckles, the sound vibrating against my sensitive skin. “I bet it does,” he says before he lowers his head between my legs once again. His tongue flicks against my clit, even as his finger continues to move inside me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

Grey sits down beside me, his gaze intense as he reaches out to grip my hair, twisting it around his fist. “You’re such a good girl for all three of us,” he praises. “You came for Misha and me, and now you have to come one more time for Oliver.”

His words send a jolt of desire straight through me, and when he twists my nipple between his fingers, I cry out. Misha’s tongue is relentless, lapping at my clit while Oliver’s thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding.

“Don’t you want to let him feel how your tight cunt clamps down on him?” Grey teases, his words stirring something deep within me.

The pressure is building once again, a tide of pleasure that threatens to sweep me away. Oliver’s fingers dig into my hips, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

Just when my orgasm crashes over me, Misha pulls out his finger, and I clamp down on Oliver’s cock. He curses under his breath, his body shuddering against mine as he finds his release, pulsing inside me as we ride out the storm together.

I collapse against Oliver, my body boneless and sated. Grey releases my hair, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before he stands again as Misha sits back on his heels, a satisfied grin on his face before he wipes his forearm over his mouth.

“That was…” I trail off, unable to find the words to describe the intensity of what we’ve just shared.

“… incredible,” Grey finishes for me.

“Mind-blowing,” Oliver adds, his arms tightening around me.

“Perfect,” Misha concludes, his eyes meeting mine with a warmth that takes my breath away.

I rise from Oliver’s lap, gasping at the loss of him, my body still humming. I feel powerful, desired, and cherished. But as I glance at Grey, desire still burns in his eyes, an unmet need that calls to me .

On shaky legs, I move to stand in front of him, my gaze raking over him. His dark blond hair is tousled, his breathing heavy, and there’s a hunger in his eyes that makes my heart race with anticipation. I drop to my knees, my hands running up the front of his thighs, one reaching out to stroke his cock, which is still eager and wanting.

I grip him at the base just as Oliver’s cum runs down the inside of my leg, making me shiver.

God, this is all so dirty but so damn good.

“What are you doing, baby?” Grey’s need is unmistakable in the way he watches me.

I look up at him, my eyes locking with his. “I’m not done,” I say, determination coursing through me. “As long as you’re not done, I’m not done.”

Grey shakes his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You don’t have to do this,” he assures gently. “Watching you with them was amazing enough.”

I smile back, my fingers still exploring. “I want to.” My touch becomes more purposeful. “I want to taste you, Grey. I want to be the reason you come undone.”

A low groan escapes him, his fingers threading through my hair, guiding me closer. I part my lips, taking him in, savoring the sensation of his silky skin against my tongue.

I begin to move, and Grey’s grip on my hair tightens, his breath catching. His eyes lock onto me, filled with awe and desire. “Fuck, Amelia,” he mutters, his need evident. “Your mouth feels so good.” I continue to bob my head, my hands gripping his thighs for balance as I take him deeper, my eyes never leaving his. Grey’s reactions spur me on, his soft gasps and moans fueling my desire to please him, to show him just how much he means to me.

“You’re incredible,” Grey says with admiration. “You know that?”

My chest swells with pride at his words, igniting a new need. The need to show him how much he means to me, how much I want to do this. Swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, I savor the salty pre-cum that beads at the tip.

“Look at you, sucking my cock so eagerly,” Grey says huskily. I feel a sense of empowerment, a renewed sense of purpose as I continue to pleasure him. Grey’s breathing grows ragged, his body tensing as he nears his release. “I’m close, baby,” he warns, his voice strained. “I want to mark you.”

Keeping my gaze locked with his, I silently encourage him to let go, to give in to the pleasure that I know is coursing through his veins. But then he pulls out of my mouth, and his hot, sticky come spurts onto my chest as he moans out my name.

I sit back on my heels, my body flushed with satisfaction as Grey struggles to catch his breath. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at me, at the mess he made of me.

“Jesus, Amelia,” he whispers in awe before reaching down to help me to my feet and pulling me into his arms. Holding me close despite his cum on me, he presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “All ours.”