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“Look at you, princess. Taking them both. You’re doing so well.”

She whimpers and clenches, and both men inside her curse in unison.

Cruz laughs breathlessly from the headboard. “Daddy’s voice does it for her every time.”

“It does it for all of us,” Dante says, strained.

They find a rhythm, Dante and Brady trading strokes, never fully leaving her empty, and Dakota rides it with her head thrown back and Cruz’s hand gathering her hair out of her face so Brady can watch her. Brady’s eyes have changed completely. He’s here, fully here, buried in the woman he loves while he swallows Cruz, and the last of fight week burns off him like steamy vapor off morning water.

Then the configuration shifts, bodies rearranging by instinct. Cruz pulls free of Brady’s mouth and moves behind Dante, slicks himself with lube, and I watch his huge hands settle on Dante’s hips.

“Yeah?” Cruz asks.

“Took you long enough,” Dante replies.

Cruz pushes in and Dante’s whole body shudders forward, driving him deeper into Dakota, who cries out and drops her head to Brady’s chest. And there it is. A chain. Cruz into Dante into Dakota onto Brady, four people connected in one unbroken line on my bed, moving together like a single organism learning its own heartbeat. The sight is obscene. The sight is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.

“Daddy.” Dakota’s hand reaches for me, fingers spread, grasping at air. “Need you. Please.”

I go to her and kneel on the mattress beside Brady’s head, and she turns and takes me into her mouth with a moan that vibrates up my spine and detonates behind my eyes. Her throat swallows around me while Dante and Brady move inside her, while Cruz drives the whole chain forward, and my legendary control, the thing I built a career on, the thing I built alifeon, frays down to a single thread.

I don’t fight it. I use it.

“Look at my girl. Three at once and you still want more. Such a good girl. So good for us.”

She moans around me, hips grinding down.

“Brady. You feel her? That’s for you tonight. All of this is for you. My good boy, you’re going to walk into that cage tomorrow knowing exactly who’s got you.”

Brady’s answering sound is half sob, half growl, and his hips drive up harder.

“Dante, Cruz, look at you two. Perfect together. You’re holding this whole thing steady, both of you. So proud of you. Proud of all of you.”

Cruz drops his forehead to Dante’s spine. Dante’s rhythm turns urgent, breaking apart at the edges. And Brady, I watch the exact second he lets go. His face opens. Every locked muscle in his jaw and shoulders and chest releases at once, and he surrenders, fully, to the people holding him.

Dakota goes first. She comes with Brady and Dante buried inside her and me in her mouth, and her whole body locks up, a scream muffled against me, and the chain reaction is instant. Brady shouts and empties into her, hips stuttering. Dante follows two strokes later with a broken sound against her spine. Cruz drives deep into Dante and goes rigid, groaning. AndI let the thread snap, spilling down Dakota’s throat, my hand cradling her jaw, her eyes on mine the whole way through.

Dante eases out of Dakota first and she hisses, then hums, and he and Brady both freeze until she laughs at them. “I’m perfect. Stop looking at me like I’m made of glass.”

“You took both of us,” Brady says.

“Iaskedfor both of you.” She stretches, feline and glowing. “Best decision of my week.”

Cruz flops onto his back and drags Dante down with him. “Everyone alive? Sound off.”

“Alive,” Dante says.

“Alive,” Dakota says.

Brady just breathes, long and slow and even, and when I look at his face I see a man I haven’t seen since before fight camp started. Loose through the shoulders. Soft around the eyes.

“Better?” I ask him.

“I can’t feel my legs, Coach,” Brady replies.

“That’s a yes,” Cruz says.

I bring water and a warm cloth, and Dakota lets me clean her up while Cruz mother-hens Brady into drinking a full bottle of electrolytes, and then we pile into my bed, which fits five people the way a duffel bag fits a heavyweight’s gear, badly, but we make it work.