Piece Us Together (Monstrous Survivors #3)

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hunter

They come out of the room together, hands held, cheeks pink. I feel a little nauseous, torn between exhilarating hope and skin-crawling anxiety. The worst part of myself wanted to eavesdrop on them. As I try to figure out what their expressions mean, I start wondering if I should have. If it would have been worth the guilty conscience.

I tell myself to let them speak first, but they stand there, shifting their weight on their feet, eyes darting around before meeting before darting around some more. They never look at me. Maison’s hold on Nolan’s hand is tight enough to make his freshly scabbed knuckles turn pink.

I don’t last very long.

“Come sit.” I wince. “Please?”

They exchange what seem like amused smiles before walking over to the couch. They split apart, Maison on one side of me, Nolan on the other. My heart kickstarts in my chest, bruisingly hard. I don’t know which of them I should look at. I don’t know if I should be afraid or happy. I don’t know anything and if there’s one fucking thing I hate, it’s not knowing.

“I’ll go first,” I say, because if someone doesn’t start talking, I’m going to melt into a puddle of distress and none of us want that. “I know we all agreed to keep feelings out of this. I tried very hard to respect that, but we can’t control those things, you know? I can’t, at least. I’ve been stuffing it down as much as possible, but the two of you…I’ve lost the battle. I don’t even want to fight the battle anymore. I’m gone for you. I—” I shake my head, hating that I can’t look at them both. I decide to get off the couch, turning and sitting on the coffee table to face them both at once. They automatically scoot toward each other as I brace my elbows on my thighs and clasp my trembling hands between them.

“I meant what I said, about all the cards on the table. I want the two of you. But I don’t want you any way I can have you, not anymore. I don’t think I can—I’m not sure I’ll survive much longer, taking what I can get from you guys. Taking the scraps. It’s killing me. I’m falling for you—for both of you. Hell, I’ve already fallen. I’m long gone.” I try for a laugh, but it’s all tight and shaky and wrong . “I know you said when you got here, Maison – you said you had fallen in love with me, but you were so upset, and so mad, and I – I don’t know if you meant it or if I ruined it or anything. I don’t know what you guys want. I know you have to do what’s best for you. I understand that. Really. I can respect that. And if I’m not what you want—what you—what you decide you need—I can—I’ll get over that. Eventually. I will. And I’ll help you find someone else, another dom. Someone you can—”

Maison mutters, “Fucking hell,” and I trip over my words, trying to remember what I was going to say. It doesn’t matter. His hand fists in my hair and I’m suddenly pulled forward, my ass literally coming off the coffee table from the force of his grip. He kisses me. For the second time tonight, Maison kisses me.

And oh god , it’s even more this time, more sure, more steady. The first was a man gasping for breath. This is a man who already has air.

He pulls back before I get the chance to gain control like earlier. It leaves me feeling off-kilter. Unfinished.

Before I can get my mind straight, he’s using his grip still in my hair to turn my head, and there’s— Nolan .

His lips are so, so soft . Warm. His kiss is gentle and sweet, almost timid, but there’s a poke of his tongue that doesn’t let me forget how mischievous and playful he can be when allowed.

Maison’s kiss set me on fire.

This kiss makes me ache.

I’m pulled away before I get control of this one either. I growl, frustrated, and they both moan.

Maison’s hand falls away. Smart move.

I force myself to pause, though. To take a breath and look at them. The two of them, all flushed and panting, smiling. They’re both smiling. Nolan is grinning like he’s won the biggest prize. Maison is smiling something soft, something nervous, but it’s exhilarated too, like he had to climb a mountain first but he got his prize too.

“I don’t know what the two of you want from me,” I admit, a little flushed and panting and smiling myself. “You have to tell me. I’m sort of dying here.”

Maison raises an eyebrow, all cocky confidence. Nolan cocks his head to the side. “That wasn’t obvious?”

“We could do it again,” Maison adds. “Maybe help clarify things?”

As much as I love them being playful, I really, really don’t enjoy feeling out of control like this. I give them a look that conveys that pretty well if their suddenly serious expressions have any indication. Nolan looks a second away from slipping to his knees, Maison suddenly finding his feet very fascinating.

“Is this the two of you saying you want to broaden things sexually? Change limits and maybe include Maison more?” I swallow hard, trying not to remember how it felt to have Maison’s throat under my hand, to have his body settled at my feet. Trying not to remember the relief that had been coming off of him in waves. “Or is this the two of you wanting…more? Wanting a relationship. A romantic one.”

“You said we’re yours,” Maison whispers. He lifts his gaze to look at me and oh, fuck . The hurt there. The confused, terrified hurt. It slices through me in a way none of his weapons ever could. “You—you said .”

“Hey. Yes. Yes, I did.” I move forward until my ass is nearly falling off the coffee table. I take one of Nolan’s hands while reaching for Maison’s cheek with my free one. Nolan clings to me while Maison leans the weight of his head—the weight of his world—into my palm. “I said you’re mine—the both of you—and that I’m yours. But you were upset. You were spiraling. I tasted whiskey on you. Still do, a little bit. I shouldn’t have even pushed as far as I had, but I weighed the possibility of stepping over a line with the possibility of you breaking apart and I did what felt right. Now, though? Now, I need the two of you to tell me what you actually want, with panic and fear set aside.”

Nolan looks at Maison. He doesn’t look back, his eyes on me, bright blue and laser-focused. “We want you. We want this— us —the three of us. Not just sex or scenes. We want to change limits, yeah, to broaden things, but that’s because we want to be…”

He looks over at Nolan now, shaking his head a little. Nolan nods and picks up where he left off. “We want to be yours. We want you to be ours. In all the ways.”

“In every fucking way,” Maison adds. “All cards on the table, right?”

I exhale, long and slow, heart in my throat, and nod. “All cards on the table.”

“We’re in love with you,” Maison says. His eyes are set on me, his gaze not wavering. “We love you, Hunter.”

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

My voice is tight and a little wet when I croak, “Oh, thank god.”

It’s Nolan who kisses me first this time, leaving his boyfriend behind to come crawl onto my lap, straddling me and pressing his lips to mine. I wrap an arm around his waist, holding him close, tangling the fingers of my free hand through his hair to keep him in place. He shivers when I press my mouth harder against his, tongue pushing at the seam of his lips. He opens like a good boy, letting me take and take from him. I stroke my tongue against his, map out the edges of his teeth, nip a little at his bottom lip until he’s whimpering and hard against my stomach. I pull away, tightening my grip on his hair when he tries chasing me. He pants in my ear as I look past him at Maison. He seems to be holding his breath, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“One more,” I tell him, letting dominance trickle into my voice. I keep Nolan where he is, hand still in his hair, and unwrap my arm from his waist to reach for Maison. “Come here.”

He gives me his hand, coming easily without an ounce of doubt or fear. I guide him to sit beside me, turning both myself and Nolan halfway toward him. I use my grip in Nolan’s hair to press his cheek against my collarbone, his face tilted so he can see his boyfriend. I bring the hand Maison has in mine to where Nolan’s knee is hooked on my hip. He rests it there when I move my own hand away to wrap it around the back of his neck. He leans in at the touch, eyes already fluttering closed.

This time, his kiss is just as soft and hesitant as Nolan’s. It’s submissive. So, so beautifully submissive.

“Oh, what a good boy,” I breathe, my lips still whispering along his. He makes the softest little sound, a whine or a whimper, his free hand coming up to grab at my shirt. I can feel the tremble in it. My pleased smile turns to a grin when I pull away to find him blinking at me like he’s dazed. I lean in once more, running the tip of my nose along his, then guide Nolan’s head up to do the same to him. He’s panting softly despite me not having kissed or touched him in a while. “Both of you are such good boys.”

He makes a sound similar to Maison’s. They press in close to me in unison, not caring when legs and arms and knees get in the way. I laugh, my chest burning with fondness and love as I end up with a lap half-full of the both of them. I can feel their erections. I can feel my own too, throbbing with the beat of my heart.

That’s not what’s happening tonight, though.

That’s not what any of us need.

“When was the last time you ate? Either of you?”

Nolan nuzzles his face against my neck while Maison rests his chin on Nolan’s shoulder and looks at me. I can already tell I won’t like his answer, which is probably why he waits for Nolan to go first. “I had a late lunch, but nothing since then.”

“Okay.” I set my gaze on Maison. “And you?”

He tries to look away, but I reach out and grab his chin, guiding it until he’s forced to meet my eyes. There’s that fear again. It kills me, how easily he’s spooked. I’m going to have to be so very careful with him. “I won’t be mad. Just tell me.”

“I don’t—” He pauses, swallowing hard. I can see him fighting the urge to yank his face away from me to escape my gaze. “I don’t remember. I think—not since breakfast. Here.”

It’s hard to keep my reaction from my face, but years of practice allow me to pull it off. “Okay. Then we all need to eat. And I want to take a look at your hand, Maison. Then I think we should get some rest.”

Maison closes his eyes. “Is that my punishment? For being bad?”

“Is what?” I ask, trying to keep my voice soft despite how perplexed I feel.

“Just going to sleep…”

It’s hard not to smile. The gravity of the evening helps. “You weren’t bad, Maison.”

“I was. I left when I knew we aren’t supposed to after a safeword and I said all that shit and I got drunk and I—”

“That’s enough,” I say softly, but without room for argument. He bites his lip, but I can tell he’s considering not listening, so I add, “I’m in charge, right?” He nods. “Then if I say it’s enough, it’s enough. If I say you weren’t bad, you weren’t. My rules.”

“But I broke a rule,” he argues, unable to help himself. “At the very least, I broke the rule about the safeword. Right?”

“Right. And you’ve punished yourself ever since, haven’t you?” I counter, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sinks into himself, cheeks going pink. His gaze drops. I allow it. “I—yeah. Yes. I guess—yeah. I have.”

“Then it’s over. I’m going to bandage your hand. We’re going to eat. Then we are going to rest. Not because someone was bad or as a punishment, but because that’s what the three of us need. Care. Food. Rest.” I pause before adding, “We need a chance to breathe. A chance to just be together without complicating things. Just one night of sitting in this happiness, of basking in finally being together. Then, tomorrow, Nolan will make us breakfast and we’ll eat and talk everything to death, and then—if you’re both very good boys—we’ll play. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Nolan says.

I keep my eyes on Maison. He nods slowly. “Yeah. Okay. Understood.”

Maison is quiet as I bandage his hand, not even wincing when I dab at the split knuckles with antiseptic on a cotton swab. I try not to pay attention to the scattered scars around the area. How many times has he done this to his hands? Are there other things he does to hurt himself? Would it help if I hurt him in safer ways? Or would that just be enabling?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as I carefully wrap gauze around his hand.

My fingers stumble for just a moment before I continue. “For what, sweetheart?”

“All of it.” He swallows hard, loud enough for me to hear. “Everything.”

I secure his gauze before taking his chin between my thumb and finger and looking into his eyes. “You know what I care about most out of everything you’ve done?”

He looks terrified, his voice a weak tremble as he asks, “What?”

“You came back.” I smile, leaning in to press my forehead to his. “You came back to me. That’s what matters, okay?”

Maison sucks in a breath, then closes the distance between our lips with a tilt of his chin. I’m still smiling. I feel him start to do the same, the kiss quickly becoming mostly teeth. When I pull away for a breath, I find Nolan sitting like an adorable little peeping Tom beside us, bottom lip caught between his teeth. I grab him by the throat and guide him to Maison, the two of them colliding in more teeth and muffled laughter.

I kiss the hinge of Nolan’s jaw, then Maison’s.

They turn away in unison, two sets of pretty blue eyes fixed on me.

I’ve never hated my own rules more. I would give anything—absolutely fucking anything—to bring these two to my bed and spend hours showing them just how in love with them I am.

I need to buy a fucking breathalyzer.

Or give Maison a rule that he shouldn’t drink anymore, which is what really needs to happen, not that I think he’d let me make it. Not yet, at least.

God, we have a long way to go.

That reminder has me pulling away from them, smiling softly so they know nothing is wrong. This is going to be a slow game. A marathon, not a sprint. I have to remember that.

“Come on. You two go settle on the couch. I’m going to order some food.”

“I can—”

“No,” I say kindly, but firmly. I run a hand through Nolan’s messy blond hair and smile. “But thank you. Get comfortable with Maison. No kneeling, okay? I want both of you with me when I come back to sit, one under each arm.”

Nolan doesn’t look exactly thrilled, but he allows the denial of both getting to cook and kneel. It’s a small price for him to pay. I think he knows why, by the way he looks at Maison and then gives his less-injured hand a comforting squeeze. This relationship will always be about the three of us, but sometimes two of us will need to hold up the third. Tonight is Maison’s night to be held up. To be coddled and loved a little extra. Lord knows he’s fucking earned it.

I pull out my phone, ignoring the chastising texts from Wells and the worried ones from my other dom friends since Wells apparently decided to share my situation with the group. Once it was confirmed that everything was calm and that Nolan was on his way, Wells switched gears. I’m not in the mood for his opinions or advice. I thanked him for helping me. That’s all I have in me tonight. The rest of my energy goes to my boys.

The fastest option on the food delivery app is a small sandwich shop just a few streets away, on the edge of downtown, less than an hour from closing. I hurry to put in our orders and add a generous tip before joining my boys back on the couch.

“What are we going to watch, sir?” Nolan asks, scooting away from Maison to give me the spot in the middle like I previously requested.

I settle down, Nolan immediately curling halfway into my lap, Maison following by leaning heavily against my side, his head tucking between my shoulder and jaw. I close my eyes and let the moment settle in my chest for a few seconds.

Then I grin, knowing they can’t see it, and say as casually as possible, “I was thinking a documentary.”

“Ew,” Nolan grumbles as Maison groans, “Nooo.”

My grin widens. “No? I mean, we could watch Winter Soldier , but Maison warned me that you’d get horny for some reason, darling, and I’d hate to make you go to bed all unfulfilled.”

“Traitor!” Nolan hisses to Maison.

Maison snorts a laugh. I love when he does that. It’s fucking adorable coming from such a gruff, quiet man like him. “Hey, I was just sharing valuable information with our dom to ensure you get the best experience. You should—”

I’m not listening anymore, though.

Our dom.

Our dom.

Our dom.

They’re laughing, Maison poking Nolan in the side, Nolan curling over to avoid him, hair falling over his forehead.

Our dom.

I close my eyes again, willing myself not to cry. Not to ruin this.

They choose a movie that can be watched without Winter Soldier , something about the galaxy. I smile at their excitement. I love them so very fucking much.

I’m terrified I’m going to lose them.

That terror fades, though. As they laugh and tease me. As they take turns talking in what they call “Groot” voices. As they cuddle closer to me any time they accidentally move away. As Maison fiddles with the hair at the back of my neck and Nolan draws patterns on my chest. As we pause to get our food and they insist on being naughty and eating on the couch. As Nolan steals Maison’s pickles and Maison responds like it was an act of treason. As they both tease me for how many vegetables I have on mine.

As we settle in, our bellies full, the movie still playing, a blanket wrapped around us. As Maison says, “Hunter? I think he’s asleep.”

As Nolan mumbles, “Not asleep,” without even opening his eyes.

As we turn the TV off and lead a stumbling, sleepy boy to the stairs. As Maison stops, his eyebrows pulling in. As he asks, “Where are we going?”

As my face heats and I admit, “I was taking you to my room. Now that this is real, now that you’re mine, I want you in my space. I want you there every night, by my side.”

As Nolan makes an almost wounded sort of sound even as his lips pull into a dopey grin. As Maison swallows hard and nods and says, “Yeah. We want that too.”

As we all curl around each other in my bed, one on each side of me, Nolan whispering, “Night, sir. Night, Mais.” As Maison sighs like he’s releasing a breath he’s been holding for eleven years. As I kiss each of their foreheads and say, “Good night, boys.”

By the time they’re asleep, safe and warm in my arms, the terror is back.

I can’t lose them.

Whatever it takes, I’m not fucking losing them.