Chapter 25

A vacation was exactly what I needed. I had no idea how overstimulating the sounds of the kids and the proximity of my friends really was until I got to have the quiet back.

Cillian and Boris talked inside about the insane amount of toys Cillian felt this weekend required, but I stayed out in the sun and enjoyed the silence.

We’re currently getting ready to go to dinner at a small private restaurant. I decided to wear a casual backless dress in black that Boris ordered for the weekend. The fabric is light and breathable, making it perfect for the heat here.

Although, with the sun down and the cool breeze from the ocean blowing in, I’m not too worried about sweating through this one.

Cillian comes out of the bathroom in black slacks and a black button down, but Boris is in something I never expected.

He is wearing a light tan linen suit that molds to every inch of his body perfectly. The white undershirt accentuates the tan he seemed to get from only being outside for a total of thirty minutes.

There is no way this man is full blooded Russian. His mother had to be Spanish or Italian with the way he tans so easily.

He notices the way I am practically drooling as he adjusts his sleeves, a sly smirk playing on his full lips.

“See anything you like, my little fox?”

I approach him seductively, swaying my hips as my heels click on the floor. Reaching out, I place my hand over his bicep and lean in to whisper, “I would rather see a whole lot more.”

Before I can undress the man, Cillian pulls me back, making me laugh.

“Rude, I got dressed up too and you didn’t even notice.”

I turn in his hold, appreciating how the red tattoo on his neck stands out against the black collar. My finger traces the lines as he keeps me close.

“I will always notice you, Killer.”

I stain his lips red with my lipstick as I press our mouths together.

Boris crowds my back, making me feel centered for the first time in a long time.

“I love you,” I whisper, reaching back to squeeze Boris’ arm, saying the words to both of them.

“We love you too, Sweetheart. So much so that even though it pains me,” Cillian steps back and grabs my purse, handing it to me, “I must insist on dinner.”

He gestures to our private elevator, graciously accepting Boris’ outstretched arm.

It feels strange to be out with them again, having spent the last two and a half months in a very large but somehow crowded home in Norway.

Part of me longs for the chaos of it. Seeing all of the kids happy and thriving gives me renewed energy on the rough days, but the silence here helps too.

I can feel the tension starting to leave me even now. I’m also sure the three orgasms I’ve had today only added to my good mood.

We head to a small restaurant two blocks down the road and sit outside on the patio. Twinkle lights hang above us, illuminating the space with a soft glow.

We order seafood, and I almost gag a few times as we watch Cillian eat what I feel can only be described as a giant octopus tentacle. Boris has lobster, and I decided on the tilapia with risotto.

Cillian attempts to share his meal, but Boris and I both decline, opting to share with each other instead.

It’s all kind of strange but comfortable. We sip on espressos as we share stories from our childhood. I find out that Boris’ mother was actually from Spain and that she died during childbirth. He never talked about her before now, but for all of us it seems normal not to chat about where we came from.

As we make our way back and the sky starts to darken, my chest starts to feel a weird ache. By the time we get to the room, I am rubbing at it, my anxiety spiking with every pass of my hand.

Boris’ cell chimes as I sit on the couch and remove my shoes. He scoots in beside me and holds up his phone with a picture on the screen and a small text bubble from Kai.

Kai: In case she is missing her. Let her know I’m watching Aiden tonight.

My lip trembles for a moment as I compose myself. It startles me just how well Cillian and Boris know me sometimes, but the way Kai seems to understand me so thoroughly is heartwarming.

“Tell him I said thank you and that we will be back soon to tell him all about our old boring lives,” I say, handing Boris his phone and loosening the tie on my dress.

He types out the reply and sets the phone on the coffee table before pulling my feet in his lap.

“I do not think we are boring,” Boris says as he begins to massage my feet, his thumb pressing in just the right spot that makes my toes curl.

“Who the feck said we were boring?” Cillian asks, walking out of the bedroom. There is a devious look in his eyes, leading me to believe he’s up to something.

“Nessa told Kai we were boring,” Boris informs him, and I reach out to playfully slap him on the chest. Before I make contact, Cillian stops my hand and pulls it behind my back as his knee presses to the couch behind me.

“Hmm, and here I thought our ideas were quite… thrilling.” His voice is low and deep in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Maybe we should show her what we have planned and how not boring we really are.”

Boris’ eyes turn hooded as he looks up from my feet. “Would you like that, Lisichka ?”

I know I had my doubts and reservations about having sex again, but the minute they reminded me of just how good it could be on the plane, most of the dark thoughts vanished. I think a few of them will always resurface, but they feel more manageable now as I sit between the two men that I love and trust most in this world.

Not only that, but it’s already starting to feel like we are back to ourselves again. While things have changed, I think I needed to be reminded of this.

Not just the sex, but the intimacy too. I needed to see it was okay to feel good, and after realizing that, I don’t want to waste another minute.

“Show me your worst,” I challenge. Looking back at Cillian, I bite my lip. “I can take it.”

Just as they could sense my apprehension before, it’s like they can sense the lack of it now. Cillian plants a kiss on my neck before pulling me up to stand, Boris following immediately.

When he opens up the door to the room, my jaw hits the floor. I knew Cillian bought most likely every sex toy known to man, but I had no idea about any of this.

“What is this?” I ask, taking it all in. A hundred candles line the walls while the night sky twinkles above. The bed has been pushed up against a wall instead of being in the center of the room and two new pieces of furniture have been added.

When did they get time to build this?

Boris leans into my ear, pulling me close so that my back is flush with his front. “During dinner, we had a few special pieces delivered.”

Cillian walks up to the cushioned table with a strap on each corner. There are different foam pillows beneath it I am sure are for angling my body in any way they want me.

“This one was my pick,” Cillian murmurs, his voice laced with gravel and lust.

Boris approaches the chair beside it. There are straps on the armrests and pads so that legs can be spread and tied down. The seat portion is short, meaning with my legs spread, he will have access to my pussy easily. There’s even a leather belt to go around the neck.

“This was mine.”

Well holy shite, I was not expecting this.

“Still think we’re boring?” Cillian asks as he pulls over something like a surgeon’s tray of toys. Boris has one too, but his is covered.

“I guess only time will tell,” I say as I cross my arms in provocation.

Cillian chuckles and Boris smirks. “Who do you want to go first, Lisichka ?”

“That depends.” I tap my finger on my chin. “What do you have planned?”

Boris lifts a blindfold from the chair as he says, “We are going to remind you of who you are by reawakening all of your senses. For me, I will remind you of tastes and smells.”

I can’t help but press my thighs together thinking of all the ways he could play with those two senses. The silky fabric of my dress shifts over my hardened nipples, making me swallow hard.

“I will remind you of touch and hearing,” Cillian says as he lifts up a black leather flogger and a wax play candle.

“What about sight?” I ask, tilting my head.

They both grin as they step forward. “We will be working together on that one and a few others,” Boris says.

I pretend to think about it for a minute. While both sound great, I always like to start off slow and end with a hard note, which means…

“I’ll go with you first,” I say to Boris.

Cillian nods as Boris takes my hand, but when he moves to walk out of the room, I panic a little.

“Where are you going?” I ask, the worry evident in my tone.

When he turns back with a smile, I instantly feel better. “Don’t you worry, Love. The old man here just has a few more things I need to get for him.” Placing his hand on the door, he glances back once more. “From the fridge.”

Okay, now they really have my interest piqued.

Boris kisses my cheek as he helps me out of my dress and into the chair. The cool leather is like a balm to my heated skin. He lifts my legs so that I’m spread wide and then fastens my ankles to the legs. Boris is so gentle with me that I hardly feel like I am being strapped down, but rather admired as his soft touches linger on my skin.

Goosebumps break out when he goes for my hand, and I gesture to my satin red thong that is already stained with my arousal. “What about these?”

“Oh, I have plans for those. Be patient, my little fox. This one is not a race.”

The way his eyes burn into mine makes me shiver. “Yes, sir.”

Boris rolls his lips and inhales sharply.

“I think I enjoy the sound of that.”

Wiggling in the chair and testing my new restraints, I lean forward so our mouths are only a breath apart. “Are you going to make me come, sir?” I whisper against his lips.

Just then, Cillian returns with a bowl in his hands, but it’s covered. “He is going to do so much more than that,” Cillian says as he sets it on the tray beside us.

Boris pulls back, a satisfied gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

Carefully, he fastens the blindfold around my eyes and the leather strap loosely around my neck. I can feel Cillian behind the chair when Boris moves away. His hands rest on my shoulders, almost in support.

“We are going to do a little taste test. I am going to feed you all of the things that remind me of you, and you have to guess what they are.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to nod, but the strap prevents me from moving much. With my sight taken away, it feels a little vulnerable. Just as those insecure thoughts begin to arise, strong hands center me as they begin to massage my shoulders, grounding me.

Something cool touches my lips. “Open up for me, Lisichka .”

I obey immediately and bite into a perfectly ripe, sweet strawberry.

“Mmm, my favorite,” I say, chewing on the delicious fruit as a little juice escapes my lips. I can feel it sliding down my chin before a hot tongue licks it from my skin. Boris hums in delight as I swallow.

The next thing is warm, and I take a sip as a cup is pressed to my lips. Herbal tea, but not just any kind. This one is my go to for when I’m sad.

Rose tea.

It reminds me of Enya when we would stay up late and drink it. I didn’t like it much at first, but she swore the tea helped keep her slim for ballet, so I would drink it with her.

“Boris.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes, knowing he pays attention to it all. He isn’t just my rock, he’s my foundation.

“I know, baby girl. Try this for me?”

Something warm and sweet slides into my mouth, his finger coated in chocolate. I suck generously as he pulls it out, but he only gives me more.

My tongue dances around him, heightening my arousal by the second. When his knuckles graze over my center, the cool damp satin presses against my clit, and I moan around him.

With a pop, he pulls his fingers free. “I think it is my turn to taste now.”

His mouth hovers over my panties, making me pant for him before I hear the flick of a knife from behind.

“Need some assistance, Old Man?”

The metal slides against my skin, teasing me as he slices through each side and the fabric falls away. Using his thumbs, he spreads me wide open before blowing cool air over my dripping flesh.

“Feck,” I breathe, beginning to tremble with anticipation. But nothing happens for a minute.

“Boris?”

“I was thinking,” he says, “maybe you should taste what we do to you.” Just then, two fingers press into me, curling and rubbing my g-spot just right. I buck into his hand as much as I can, but he pulls away just as swiftly as he came, making me feel empty.

I open my mouth to complain, but those same fingers press in and my taste coats my tongue. A little surprised, I pause. But when he starts fucking my mouth with his fingers, I accept greedily.

“Do you taste how good it is?” Boris asks, and I hum around the digits.

“It can get even better.”

A cool sensation presses against my entrance before slipping in and back out. His fingers are then replaced with what he slid inside of me.

I bite down, the taste of watermelon and my arousal mixed together filling my mouth. Somehow, it’s heady, almost addicting, and I suddenly understand why they can’t seem to get enough of me at times.

“Delectable, right?” Boris asks.

“So good,” I agree. When I swallow, the leather strap tightens against my throat, but I love the feeling of it there. It’s almost like one of Cillian’s hands, grounding me.

“Time to wake up that sense of smell. Do you remember telling us what our scents reminded you of?”

“Yes, sir.”

He groans when something soft presses under my nose, a woodsy spicy scent reminding me of late nights in the tower. I have never seen Boris smoke a cigar, but he had a collection in a glass case in his old office, and it gave the room a unique scent.

A drop of something touches my lips when the cigar is pulled away, I lick them on instinct.

Whisky.

I can smell and taste it, reminding me of the first time Boris and I kissed. He always had a small glass of the amber liquid on his desk, from the moment I tasted it on his tongue, I've been addicted ever since.

“Mmmm,” I moan. “It reminds me of you.”

“Good. This whisky is my favorite, not because of the taste, but because it was what I was drinking the first time I ever laid eyes on you.”

I didn’t know that.

“Now, smell this.”

I inhale the scent of Irish wild flowers filling my heart to the brim, but it’s nothing compared to the soft fabric that rubs against my cheek as Cillian whispers in my ear.

“I had my shirt laying in the sun today for you, and these flowers were shipped here from the field we used to run through together.”

I swear their love is like a never ending fountain, no, a waterfall. They give and give and give with force. It is powerful, and though overwhelming at times, it is also the fullest kind of love.

“I need you,” I admit. “Please.”

I need them to do something, because this is torture. Being enveloped in the smells and tastes of our history, remembering all of the good things and not being able to see them is complete agony.

Cillian strips the blindfold from my eyes, and I glance down at Boris as much as I can as he pushes more of the sweet fruit inside of me. This time when he takes it out he bites it in half, reaching up to feed the other half to Cillian.

The image is so hot, I think I might melt into the chair. Or it could be my arousal pooling under me.

“She tastes divine,” Cillian says.

“As a goddess should,” Boris agrees.

Still staring at my center, he spreads me open again, this time he doesn't tease though. He goes directly for my clit, flicking it back and forth with a tongue created from magic. I’m already on edge, the emotional anticipation leaving me needy and craving everything they have to give.

Two fingers thrust into me, then a third. My eyes roll back, and Cillian is right there. He presses his lips to mine and parts his mouth so that his tongue can claim me, still tasting like watermelon and me . That delicious piercing dancing like a well practiced professional.

A fourth finger presses in, stretching me in a delicious sort of agony. When I let out a small hiss as the stretch surprises me, they both freeze.

“Don’t stop,” I beg. I am so close that the pain doesn’t even register, it was just the shock of the stretch.

But they don’t seem to care. Slowly, Boris pulls out of me, and I growl in frustration.

“Just take a second to assess,” Boris says calmly.

I know he’s doing this to check in and make sure I’m really okay, but I meant what I said. I know my body and what it can take.

“Do not brat out on him over this, Sweetheart. You will not enjoy the consequences.”

Cillian’s dark eyes look down at me, and that’s when I realize they aren’t stopping for me. Boris stopped for himself . I glance down at him, my attitude dropping and sincerity taking over.

“Are you alright?” I ask. It’s easy to forget that pleasure is not just about what I want when I’m so wrapped up in it. It’s about what he needs too, and it is not fair for me to push his limits anymore than it would be for him to push mine.

“Did I hurt you?” He looks scared, making me wish my hands weren’t locked down. I glance at Cillian and he seems to understand, undoing one of the binds so my hand can stroke over Boris’ face.

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t enjoy.”

He still looks hesitant. “I do not wish to bring you harm or cause you pain.” His fingers swipes over my center carefully, as if in an apology. It’s so tender and so uniquely Boris that I lift his chin and pull until he stands, bringing his lips to mine.

The way the linen of his suit presses against my skin is scratchy, but I really like it. I deepen our kiss until he is the one to break it.

“I want to feel full of you. As full as I can get. I know that can come with a little discomfort, but sometimes the pain is worth it.”

He nods, and Cillian strokes my hair as if to praise me for seeing what Boris needed. Once my wrist is locked firmly back into place, the scene resumes.

It doesn’t take long for us to get back into a rhythm together, and soon enough four fingers are inside of me; this time with hardly any pain.

I’m careful to keep my eyes on him, letting him see my love for him as well as my want for this. Cillian plays with my breasts, massaging them and pinching my nipples as he nibbles on my ear.

When Boris begins to suck on my clit, I explode in more ways than one. My arousal squirts out of me, soaking the front of his shirt. He doesn't let up, continuing to thrust into me and using my wetness to coat his thumb as he twists his hand.

Pressure builds, another orgasm imminent when I vaguely hear Cillian whisper, “Holy shit.”

Glancing down, Boris’ whole hand slides into me. No, his fist.

“Yes!” I scream as he rolls his knuckles back over my g-spot. I swear I fade between realms as ecstasy overtakes my entire being. I’m weightless with the pleasure and a fullness I have never known.

When his hand slides out, coated in my juices, he pushes four fingers in my mouth. I hungrily accept them as I adjust to feeling empty where I just finally felt full.

“I think she needs more,” Boris says over my shoulder to Cillian.

“I agree, Old Man. Get her on the table.”

Cillian moves as Boris begins to unstrap each of my limbs. I didn’t even notice that my legs had begun to go numb until he released the bindings and massaged the sore muscles.

I smile up at him, immensely satisfied at what we just accomplished. I’ve been wanting this for a while now, but it was even better than I expected.

“Wrap your arms around me, Lisichka ,” he whispers before moving to kiss my cheek, my neck, my collar bone. Slowly, I do as he says, his kisses never ending, even as he lays me out for Cillian.

Turning my head on the headrest at the end of the table, I realize I am at the perfect height to take him in my mouth.

“I need to taste you too,” I say. Cillian is working on restraining my limbs when he looks up at Boris.

“Make her choke on it,” is all he says before busying himself again.

Boris wastes no time stripping from his clothes, his throbbing length standing at attention the second he’s naked in front of me.

“If this is part of the sight thing, I approve.” He grins down at me before his hand tangles in my hair.

“Prepare yourself, Lisichka , because you are about to get an eyeful while I fuck this pretty throat.”

I bat my lashes at him. “Yes, sir.”