43. Flora

43

FLORA

Two months later…

C olt and Nash tear down the wall between their bedrooms while I sip coffee, leaning against the far wall. Dust fills the air, but neither notice as they work in sync. Nash’s muscles flex with each swing of the sledgehammer while Colt carefully removes debris, mindful of his now-healed shoulder.

“The delivery guys said they’ll be here by noon,” I call out, checking my phone.

The Alaskan king bed we ordered is massive—perfect for three people who can’t keep their hands off each other but want space when we’re sleeping. These past months sharing Colt’s regular king has been cozy but cramped. More than once, I’ve woken up practically hanging off the edge.

Nash pauses, wiping sweat from his brow. His shirt clings to his chest in all the right places. “I guess we didn’t need to start so early. This is going faster than expected.”

Colt stacks another piece of drywall against the wall. “Though I’ll miss having my own space sometimes.” He winks at me, and I know he’s teasing.

None of us have slept apart since Christmas.

The bedroom transformation represents something bigger—we’re creating a space designed for the three of us.

I set down my coffee on the nightstand, grabbing a garbage bag to help collect smaller pieces of debris. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can christen our new bed. From Nash’s heated glance, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“Better finish your coffee, little bird,” Nash says. “We’ve got a lot more work ahead.”

I work alongside Nash and Colt as we clear away the last of the debris. My muscles ache from hauling pieces of drywall, but I’m satisfied watching our shared space take shape. The wall that once divided the bedrooms is gone, leaving a wide open area perfect for our new bed.

Colt dismantles his old bed frame with practiced efficiency. At the same time, Nash and I vacuum every corner, ensuring no dust or debris remains. The empty space feels full of possibility.

“Last piece,” Colt announces, carrying out the headboard.

I’ve just finished wiping down the baseboards when a knock echoes through the trailer. Nash opens the door to two delivery men with our new bed.

“Right this way,” he directs them to our newly opened room.

The delivery guys work quickly, bringing in pieces of the massive Alaskan king frame. I stand back with Colt, watching them assemble it with professional speed. The dark wood perfectly matches Nash’s existing furniture, making the space cohesive.

When they bring the mattress, all four men have to maneuver it through the trailer and onto the frame. It’s enormous and exactly what we need. The delivery guys quickly set everything up, and then we signed the paperwork.

“All set,” the lead delivery man says, handing Nash the warranty information. “Enjoy your new bed.”

I catch one of the delivery guys giving us a curious look as he glances between Nash, Colt, and me. His eyes dart from one to the other, clearly trying to piece together our dynamic. The slight furrow in his brow and how his lips purse tell me he’s figured out we’re more than roommates.

He opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. Instead, he busies himself with gathering their tools while his partner folds up the moving blankets.

Nash hands them each a tip, maintaining his professional demeanor despite the obvious judgment in the delivery guy’s expression. Colt stands protectively close to me, his hand resting casually on my lower back.

The curious delivery guy’s eyes linger on Colt’s possessive gesture, then flick to Nash’s matching stance on my other side. His cheeks flush slightly as understanding dawns. But to his credit, he keeps his thoughts to himself, simply nodding politely thanks for the tip.

I help Nash unfold the crisp new sheets, their deep burgundy color rich against the dark wood of the frame. The fabric feels impossibly soft between my fingers. Nash insisted on the highest thread count they had.

“Finally, room to stretch,” Colt says, helping tuck in the corners of the fitted sheet. “No more elbows in my face at three a.m.”

“That was one time,” I protest, tossing a pillow at him. He catches it with a grin.

Nash spreads out the matching duvet, its weight settling perfectly across the massive expanse of mattress. “I still can’t believe how big this thing is. Could fit half the carnival in here.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Colt warns playfully, arranging the decorative pillows I picked against the headboard.

Once everything’s perfectly arranged, I can’t resist anymore. I take a running leap onto the bed, landing in the middle with a bounce. The mattress is heavenly—firm but with just enough give.

“Come on!” I pat the spaces beside me. Nash and Colt exchange amused looks before joining me, one on each side. We lay there staring up at the ceiling, the bed so wide we could all spread our arms without touching.

“This is weird,” Colt declares after a moment. “I’m too used to being squished together.”

Nash rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand. “We’ll just have to get creative about filling all this space.”

I stretch luxuriously, enjoying the room to move. “At least now, when one of you steals all the covers, there’s enough left for the rest of us.”

“I do not steal covers,” they protest in unison, making me laugh.

“Sure you don’t.” I burrow into the plush duvet, sighing contentedly. “This is perfect.”

Nash wastes no time turning to more enticing prospects, saying, “We have to christen this new bed properly.”

Colt’s smile widens as he shifts closer to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Any suggestions for how we should do that?”

Nash’s answer comes without hesitation. “A train, of course.” He reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. “Colt’s dick in my ass, my dick in you, Flora. Like we’ve done so many times before.”

My cheeks heat at the memory. It’s true—the three of us have become intimately familiar with the pleasures of this arrangement. As Nash calls it, the train has become our new favorite way to connect, a physical manifestation of the bond we’ve formed. I nod my agreement, my voice hoarse as I say, “Sounds good.”

Colt gets up, making no secret of his growing arousal, tenting his grey sweats. “You know I’m always up for that.”

I’m already well aware of his enthusiasm. Our late-night training sessions often end together in a train of lust, hunger, and love.

I eagerly tear off my sweats and tank top, throwing them off the bed. Nash is quick to get naked, throwing his clothes in a pile on top of mine. And then we both glance at Colt, who is still dressed.

He slowly pulls off his tight t-shirt, revealing his corded muscles covered in dark ink. My stomach flutters every time I see him like this. Both of them are so fucking beautiful. And then he slowly peels away his grey sweats, his huge, engorged dick bobbing up and slapping his abs.

“Fuck, I never get enough of seeing you,” Nash murmurs, dick in his hand already. And then he glances at me. “Or you, little bird. Turn over.”

I turn onto my side, pressing my back to Nash’s chest and feeling his hand caress my hip. His fingers leave a trail of fire as they slide down my body, slipping between my thighs and gently parting them. He probes at my core with his fingers, already knowing how wet and ready I am for him.

The bed dips beside us as Colt settles behind Nash. The telltale signs of the lubricant bottle cap clicking open, followed by Colt squeezing it out, tells me he’s ready to prepare Nash.

Nash’s cock nudges at my core, and he pushes into me with a slow, deliberate stroke. My breath quickens as he fills me, my body clinging to his length as he pulls out, only to thrust back in. I rock back to meet his rhythm, the pace slow and sensual as he works to claim me once more.

The slick sound of Colt’s fingers moving in Nash’s channel reaches my ears, and my hips stutter. The knowledge of what’s about to happen, of Colt’s dick entering Nash, pushes me closer to the edge.

Every time Nash gets fucked, his dick swells and gets so fucking hard inside me that it’s insane.

“You feel so damn good, little bird,” Nash growls against my ear. His thumb finds my clit, and he strokes in time with his thrusts. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

My head falls back against his shoulder, exposing my throat. His lips curve into a smile against my skin as he nips gently at my neck.

“Colt, it’s time for you to fuck our boy,” I urge, wanting nothing more than to feel them both lose control. “Take his ass.”

“Damn right, I will.” Colt’s voice is rough with desire as he lines up with Nash’s entrance. “His ass is so fucking greedy for it.”

Nash bites out a curse as Colt pushes inside him, his fingers digging into my hips, his grip tight as he battles through the stretch. I can feel his cock throbbing inside me, the erratic pulse of it a testament to his need.

“Fuck, yes, Colt. Give it to me.” Nash’s voice breaks as Colt slides deeper, the sound of his pleasure filling the room.

Colt’s filthy commentary adds fuel to the fire already raging inside me. “That’s it, Nash. Take that thick cock like a good boy.”

Nash answers him with a broken groan, his hips stuttering as he fights for control. Colt knows exactly how to push his buttons, when to be gentle, and when to be rough. With a final, deep thrust, he seats himself fully inside Nash.

“Ah, fuck,” Nash breathes, his voice wrecked. “Always forget how damn good that feels.”

My breath comes in shallow pants. The combined sensations of Nash filling me and the wet sounds of Colt fucking Nash’s lubed asshole push me to the brink.

“Nothing better than feeling your tight pussy clenching around my cock.” Nash’s voice is gravelly as he continues rubbing my clit while pounding into me. “Having my ass wrapped around Colt’s thick dick while I do it...” His sentence hangs, and he groans loudly. “Fuck, I love knowing it’s getting Colt off too.”

His words paint a picture in my mind, one I’ve witnessed in videos we’ve taken of ourselves. The image of Nash buried deep in my pussy, while Colt thrusts into him—it’s more than enough to push me over the edge. My orgasm hits in crashing waves, overwhelming me with pleasure. My inner walls flutter around Nash’s cock, milking every last drop of pleasure as he continues to thrust through my peak.

Nash hits that spot inside me that never fails to make my vision blur and my breath catch. Everything becomes hypersensitive. Every touch, every sound, amplified. My inner walls flutter around him as he pushes deep, and he knows exactly how to prolong the pleasure, just how to drag out my orgasm.

His hand moves faster, his fingers circling my clit relentlessly as he continues to thrust. Colt’s rhythm changes behind him, a counterpoint to Nash’s pace. It’s a dance they know well, perfectly matching each other’s needs.

“Ah, fuck,” Nash groans, his voice tight. “Your pussy is milking my cock so fucking good, Flora. Gonna make me?—”

Nash’s growl fills the room, his hips stuttering as he spurts inside me. My inner muscles clench greedily, milking every last drop from him as he shudders. Colt keeps up his relentless pace, his need clearly building.

“Fuck my ass,” Nash grunts. “Breed me while I’m still pulsing inside your angel.”

I glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Colt’s face twisted in pleasure as he fucks into him. His hands grip Nash’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, his expression fierce as he finds his own release. They’re both so utterly beautiful.

“Yeah, that’s it. Gonna breed that perfect ass, just like you want.” His words are rough, each one punctuated with a deep thrust. “Bet you love the idea of my cum dripping out of that well-fucked hole.”

Nash lets out a strangled cry, his body bowing under the force of Colt’s thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills my ears as their bodies collide. I press my lips to Nash’s shoulder, kissing him softly as they both succumb to the pleasure.

I hear Colt’s guttural cry of completion. Their bodies still for a moment, spent and sated. Then Colt pulls out slowly, his softening length slipping from Nash. Nash is still inside me, his dick still semi-hard. I’m surrounded by the scent of sex, of our combined pleasure, and my inner muscles clench instinctively, hungry for more.

Nash pulls out and draws me close, nuzzling against my neck. “Turn around, little bird.”

I shift to face him, and he kisses me softly.

“Love you,” I whisper, my lips against Nash’s. There was a time when those words would have terrified me, but now they roll off my tongue with ease, needing to be said.

“Love you too, little bird,” Nash replies, his breath warm against my hair. It still feels new when he says it, but right in a way I never expected.

“You two are sappy as hell.” Colt’s voice holds a hint of amusement. “Couldn’t you wait till after the afterglow to make googly eyes at each other?”

I watch Nash turn his head to look at Colt over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Feeling left out back there?”

The teasing lilt in Nash’s voice makes my heart flutter. I love seeing them like this–the casual banter.

Colt rolls his eyes, but I catch the way his gaze lingers on Nash’s mouth. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Before saying anything else, Nash reaches back and threads his fingers through Colt’s hair, pulling him forward. Their lips meet in a heated kiss that steals my breath. The sight of them together never fails to amaze me.

I trace my fingers along Nash’s chest as I watch them, feeling how his heart races beneath my touch. The kiss deepens, and I hear Colt’s soft groan as Nash’s tongue slides against his.

The intensity between Nash and Colt breaks as Colt’s hand reaches across Nash’s body, gripping my arm firmly. He pulls me up and over Nash in one swift motion, who shifts to accommodate my new position. I find myself on my knees, straddling Nash’s torso as Colt captures my lips with his.

His kiss differs from Nash’s—more demanding, rougher around the edges. Where Nash tends to be calculated and precise, Colt pours raw emotion into every movement. His hand cradles the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss.

Nash’s hands steady my hips, keeping me balanced as I melt into Colt’s embrace.

I feel cherished between them, safe in a way I never thought possible. Colt breaks the kiss just long enough to look into my eyes, his gaze filled with an intensity that still takes my breath away. Below me, Nash’s thumb traces soothing circles on my hip, grounding me in the moment.