Page 99 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

Dash’s hand strokes higher along my thigh until I open for him. He knows exactly how I like to be touched; the months between us live in the way his fingers find me already wet and circle with patient pressure. Theo watches for a moment, then leans in to kiss my breast, tongue careful around the nipple until I arch into him. Idris' hand settles on my ankle, grounding, while his other hand rests near Sloane’s back so the contact stays shared.

“Color,” Idris says.

“Green.”

Sloane moves lower. He settles between my thighs and replaces Dash’s fingers with his mouth. The first long stroke of his tongue pulls a broken sound from me. Theo keeps kissing mychest and neck, one hand laced with mine. Dash shifts so he can reach my other breast, mouth warm, teeth gentle.

The three of them work together without taking turns, mouths and hands overlapping so that every part of me feels claimed by the moment rather than passed between separate attentions.

The first release builds under Sloane’s tongue and the steady pressure of Theo and Dash on either side of me. When it breaks I cry out softly, body tightening, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the sheer relief of being held through it. Sloane stays with me until the last tremor passes, then presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh.

“Still with us?” Idris asks.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

Dash takes Sloane’s place between my legs without anyone needing to speak the transition. His mouth is different—more familiar, more exact—and the second climb starts almost immediately. Sloane moves up to kiss me again, open praise still falling between each press of his lips. Theo’s hand slides down my stomach until I guide it lower, wrapping his fingers around the place where I need more pressure. He strokes me in time with Dash’s tongue, learning the rhythm from the sounds I make.

Idris leans in close enough that I can feel his breath at my temple.

“You’re doing so well. Taking what you need. Letting them give it to you.”

The second orgasm hits harder. My thighs close around Dash’s shoulders and a longer, shaking moan leaves me. Theo makes a soft answering sound against my breast, overwhelmed in the best way by being part of it. Dash eases me through the waves, then rests his cheek against my thigh while I catch my breath.

I reach for Idris next.

“Your mouth,” I tell him. “Please.”

He moves only after the clear request. Sloane and Dash shift to give him room, but they stay touching me—Sloane at my side, Dash’s hand on my hip, Theo still curled close enough to kiss whatever skin he can reach. Idris' mouth is controlled and devastating, the same careful intensity he brings to everything. He builds the third release slowly, reading every change in my breathing, pausing when the pleasure edges toward too much and continuing only when I pull him closer again.

When I come the third time it leaves me trembling and open. Tears slip free; no one treats them like a problem. Sloane kisses them from my cheek. Theo presses his face into my neck and purrs brokenly. Dash’s hand strokes my hair. Idris lifts his head and rests his forehead against my stomach for a moment, simply breathing with me.

I guide Sloane onto his back and straddle his thighs. He looks up at me with open wonder and keeps his hands light on my hips until I sink down onto him. The stretch is perfect. A low groan leaves him as I take him fully. Theo immediately presses against my back, arms around my waist, mouth at my shoulder. Dash settles close enough that I can reach his cock with one hand; Idris does the same on the other side.

Sloane’s praise turns rougher. “That’s it, baby. Take what you need. We’re all right here.”

Idris' voice cuts through only to check. “Still green?” I manage a garbled sound before it sounds like a yes, his purr rumbling through the room.

The fourth release gathers more slowly because I’m already so sensitive that every touch seems to reach too deep. Sloane keeps the pace beneath me instead of driving it, letting me decide how hard I come down on him while Theo stays wrapped around my back.

Idris remains beside me, close enough that his voice reaches through everything else. The longer it goes, the less I have tothink about what comes next. I only have to follow the rhythm they’re giving me and the little instructions Idris feeds into the noise.

“Look at me, princess.”

I turn toward him and the satisfaction in his face changes immediately into something quieter. His fingers close around mine, that familiar floaty feeling taking over me. It’s stronger than the previous time. My head feels warm and loose, every thought reduced to sensation: Theo’s chest against my back, Sloane filling me from beneath, Dash’s mouth against my shoulder, and Idris holding my hand.

“You don’t need words,” Idris tells me. “One squeeze if you want to keep going. Two if you want everything to stop.”

I squeeze him once.

“Good girl.”

The praise rolls through the empty place in my head as my whole body answers. I come with a long, shaking cry, folding forward while Theo tightens both arms around me and Sloane’s grip tightens on my hips.

Idris keeps my hand in his through every pulse as Dash strokes the hair away from my face, kissing my temple while I breathe through the last waves without trying to climb out of the soft place they’ve put me in.

Sloane follows a few moments later with a deep, grateful sound beneath me. His knot swells against me before I wiggle, a soft sound pulling from my lips when it slips inside of me. My eyes roll into the back of my head as he fills me, Sloane’s pleasured groan mixing with the others’ purrs.

Seconds later, warmth coats my sides as Idris and Dash spill against my skin, the strength of their scent pulling me farther under until I can’t think of anything else thanpack.Mypack.