Chapter 27

A warm body pressed against me is the first thing I register as I crack my eyes open, the smell of home surrounding me. It took eight long days of IV antibiotics and wound care before I was able to return to my fluffy bed full of pillows and fuzzy blankets.

Strangely though, things feel more right than ever before. I know it's Cillian who's wrapped around me. The corded veins on his long arms give him away. The second thing I notice is that I can't feel Boris.

Did he leave again? Is it too weird for him now that we are home in our own bed?

Things had been going so well—we were all getting along. Most nights we played cards until I fell asleep, and it was rare that one of them was gone when I was in the hospital. When they had to step away, I felt the aching need to call them the second my eyes opened, just to make sure they were still alive.

I don't know why, but the fear that my father is going to get to one of them makes me feel crazy, paranoid. Stretching my arm out, I search for Boris. My mind tries to play tricks on me when the bed on my other side is cool to the touch.

Did it become too much for him?

I try to push back the panic that's beginning to set in. I know this is PTSD and stress making me think this way. But that's the thing about mental battles that no one talks about. I can sit here and tell myself my thoughts are irrational, that there is no reason for my heart to start pounding or for sweat to be breaking out along my palms. I can remind myself that I am safe and that everything is okay—no one is here to get me.

But that doesn't mean my mind believes in rationality. And it doesn't do anything to stop the oncoming panic attack. It might keep it at bay for a few minutes, but once the cycle starts, the only way I know how to stop it is to let it run its course.

Dammit . Maybe I do need to call Dr. K. Boris suggested it, but I figured once we got home and settled, the lingering anxiety would vanish.

I was very wrong.

My breathing starts to come in short, sharp gasps, and I hold onto Cillian like my life depends on it. At some point, I must hurt him because he wakes up with a startle, turning me to face him so that he can look into my eyes. The sudden movement makes me cry out from my very sore ribs being moved.

"I'm such a gobshite! Sorry, Sweetheart. What's wrong?"

The worry in his voice is evident, but I shake my head. He and Boris have witnessed this a few times now. The only thing that seems to settle it is when both of them are near me.

That's no way to live life though. I can't allow myself to become dependent on others in order to function. It isn't fair to them or to me. I have to find a way to work through this on my own.

Tears fall, but I swipe at them angrily, beyond pissed this is happening again. The scabs from where Green cut off pieces of my flesh rub against my face. The contrast of marred and dried-up patches scratching against my smooth cheek triggers the memories of his torture. I feel my lip wobble as I try to breathe but my brain isn't listening.

"Hey, look at me." Cillian grabs my face and locks his gaze with mine, forcing me to focus only on him. "Deep breath in. Do it with me, Sweetheart. Deep breath."

I follow him, watching the rise and fall of his chest then sync it with my own.

Once the intrusive thoughts begin to subside and I feel like I can speak, I ask the question that caused this little spiral.

"Did he leave again?"

Cillian smiles at me before placing a kiss on my nose. "No, Love. He's in his office. He set up a video feed to the cameras."

He leans over the bed and grabs the remote, flicking on the large TV at the foot of the bed to reveal Boris glaring at a stack of papers. And if looks could cause a lightning strike, those papers would be incinerated.

A laugh escapes me as Boris looks into the camera, his features softening before he blows me a kiss.

A gagging sound from Cillian startles me, but when I see he's just being an ass, I shove at him. The movement causes some soreness, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Doc gave me a lot of pain meds and sleep aids so my body could heal during this time, and I am beyond thankful for it.

Boris disappears from the screen, and I realize my anxiety about him leaving has already vanished. When I turn carefully to look at Cillian, he is smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head. "I guess it's just nice to see you happy. Healthy even."

Sadness flashes across his features for a moment. He has apologized so many times for what happened, but I can see the guilt is still eating at him.

"Hey, Killer. Don't give me that face."

"I'm not giving you any face," he says before making himself go cross eyed and twisting his lips. I chuckle gently so as not to jostle my ribs too much before softly patting his cheek.

"I would do it all over again if I had to. These things happen for a reason, and because of all of this, we got much needed information that we didn't have before."

Guilt hits me in the chest for lying here and taking my time to recover while those kids are still out there, likely suffering.

"If I can't feel bad," Cillian says, bringing my attention back to him. "Then neither can you."

The way he can read my mind as if we were never apart fascinates me. A faint memory of him saying he was always there claws at the forefront of my mind, but I shove it to the side when Boris comes striding into the room in his panty-melting gray sweatpants and white tee combo.

"Good morning, Lisichka ."

I melt into him as he crawls onto the bed and plants a kiss to my lips. Everything feels right when they are both here, which is probably something we should discuss a little more.

When Boris pulls back, Cillian leans in, claiming my lips for himself, and I let him. It surprises me that he isn't worried about Boris' saliva being on my mouth, but it's a welcome surprise. That is, until I tense with fear that Boris won't like seeing this.

Breaking the kiss, my eyes meet his with a guilty expression. Instead of being possessive or appearing angry, he reaches out and brushes some hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers along my jaw like he normally does.

"Are the two of you really okay with this?" I ask, my voice strained with emotions that make my heart feel raw and exposed.

Boris and Cillian glance at each other before looking back to me.

"We have agreed on an arrangement of sorts," Boris states matter-of-factly.

"Is that right?" I'm sure my voice comes across as dumbfounded. I've seen them getting along, but an ‘arrangement' is an interesting choice of words.

"Did you come up with a schedule, mark how we will share time together on the calendar so that neither of you feel the need to bolt?"

The happiness that was on Boris' face turns to guilt in the blink of an eye, which was not my intention. It was supposed to be a joke. Cillian saves me though.

"Maybe we did." He pokes at my side, and I scowl at him because it hurts and tickles. I hate being tickled and he knows it, but he just grins and puts his hands behind his head. "I decided to highlight my days in blue, but yer old fella insisted on pink for his."

That makes my face flush a little as Boris glares daggers at him.

"We did not. Besides, pink is a beautiful color." Boris brushes my cheek again. "It is the same shade this pretty face turns when she is happy."

"Or incredibly turned on," Cillian whispers right behind my ear.

I bite my lip, softening into Boris' touch.

"He's right, Lisichka . Our arrangement is simply that we will take it one day at a time and tell each other when something is bothering us. We hope you can do the same."

I smile at them, but so many questions flash through my mind.

"So, will we all sleep here then? Or is that too weird for you?" I look at Boris. "What about sex? Oh my feck, have you guys already discussed that? If you made a calendar, I am going to need to see it. I will need rest days. And what about my period? Do you even know when that comes into play? Do we all use the same shower? I mean ours is big enough, but I don't know if it will work every night. And what if we ever…"

Cillian presses a finger to my lips and I cross my arms, careful to avoid adding pressure on my sore ribs.

"None of that, Sweetheart."

"I think your mind is overthinking this one, my little fox. We will figure this out as we go. We have been doing fine thus far."

"It's been ten days, and the three of us just arrived back at home. What if…" I mumble around Cillians finger, but they both shush me. They actually shush me.

"I don't know if I like the two of you getting along," I say, eyeing them skeptically while settling on my side. Boris snuggles behind me, then hands me some pills as Cillian holds a bottle of water to my lips. Okay, maybe the two of them working as a team isn't that bad.

I didn't realize how intense the pain had gotten until I swallowed the water. My overactive brain had other things occupying it. Like the two men now surrounding me, their scents mixing together and creating an intoxicating combination, making me feel heady and whole at last.

I drift off to sleep with two sets of lips pressed to my head and my heart telling me I am the luckiest girl in the world.

???

The next time I wake up, a video feed of Cillian cooking is on the screen while Boris lounges against the headboard with his computer in his lap. Apparently, their body heat became too much at some point because I can feel the sweat still cooling on my back.

As soon as Boris notices my eyes are open, he closes his laptop and sets it aside before scooting down and brushing a kiss to my forehead.

I hum my approval. We lay there for a while, and now that the pain is under control and I don't need to worry about my men running off, all of the information we have received recently floods my mind.

My father is involved in child trafficking. He knows I'm alive. He is pissed that I have men in my life.

How did he get tied up in buying kids? Just two years ago, he had fifty new recruits lined up; he doesn't need children.

Is he simply using them as business? Buying them now to sell them once they are fully trained? Or does he have other plans?

Why did he want me tortured so badly? He was an awful father, but the extent Green went to was pure insanity. Does he even know what he did to me? Does he have any idea that the man working for him literally ate pieces of his daughter while he tortured her?

Images of his teeth grinding down on my pale flesh causes shivers to run down my spine, I can see it so clearly that nausea begins to rise in my gut.

I don't want to be sick, it will hurt too bad right now.

Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I try to help the thoughts scatter until only black fills my mind. Evie taught me this trick back when I got overwhelmed learning hand to hand combat. She said Dr. K taught it to her.

I really do need to give that woman a call.

"Are you there?" Boris asks gently.

Sighing, I tilt my forehead to rest on his sternum.

"Physically, yes. Mentally, not at all."

He lets out a long breath, his fingers combing through my hair rhythmically. The sensation on my scalp is calming and somewhat sensual.

"How can I help?"

It's only a whisper, but it sends a new wave of shivers down my spine. The good kind.

"Distract me. Make me forget, even if it's just for a little while."

I want nothing more than for him to sink his thick cock inside of me so that it's all I can think about, and the breathy tone I use should make that very clear, but he hesitates.

"Do you need to get back to work?" I nod to his computer and he shakes his head.

"No. But I do not want to hurt you."

"You won't," I say quickly, rolling onto my back and trying to pull him with me. It jostles my ribs, making me suck in a breath when he presses on them.

But I don't let him pull back when he tries to separate us. Instead, I press my mouth to his, shoving my tongue in and showing him how much I need this. I don't just need a distraction—I need him.

I need to be reminded that he isn't leaving. That this is real and he is here to stay.

" Lisichka ," he breathes against my lips.

Reaching down, I palm his erection through those sweatpants that should be illegal. Seriously, if he ever steps outside with those on, he will cause a car crash. I just know it.

When his hand slips beneath the boxers I'm wearing, making contact with my dripping center, I groan in sweet satisfaction. He hisses out a breath when he pulls his hand back.

"You are soaked."

He pushes wet fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he looks me up and down. His blue eyes are nearly black with desire and it might be painful to be fucked right now, but I can't help that I still want it. I need him to fill me up.

"Give it to me, please?"

Boris laughs darkly, kneeling and ripping off his shirt in one fluid motion.

"I could never say no to you, Lisichka ."

His head turns, watching Cillian on the screen as he sets a timer on the oven.

"Think he will come back in here?" he asks.

"Maybe it's your turn to show him how good you are."

Boris shakes his head. "He has already seen what I can do. Twice ."

My mouth falls open in surprise, making him laugh.

"I could feel how wet it made you when you knew he was watching. You practically soaked my face and came back to back faster than I have ever been able to do on my own."

And if he thought I was drenched before, he should feel the waterfall between my legs now.

"Maybe you just improved your skills," I suggest. "Or that time away really made me miss you."

It was literally one day, and we both knew it had nothing to do with distance and everything to do with dark eyes watching me from the shadows.

"Do not try to flatter me, baby girl. I know you and your body well. Which means, I know exactly what you need."

"And what is that?" I ask as Boris pulls my shorts down my thighs and tosses them to the floor.

My body is trembling in anticipation. I went from having sex two to three times a day to nothing for almost two weeks now.

When Boris smiles at me, it's devious and I feel like I'm being teased as he makes his way up my thighs, stopping inches from where I want him.

"You need a hot bath." He presses a kiss to my thigh. "And to relax." Then another on my lower belly. "And to stop that mind from wandering to places it has no business going."

Another kiss on my belly. When he looks up, he gives me this stern face that I want so badly to smack. I wanted sex, not a bath.

"Boris," I start to whine, but he holds a finger to my lips.

If this is going to become a new habit of theirs, I have some complaints I would like to file.

"Do you think I do not know what you need?"

He lifts an eyebrow and I glare at him. I made it perfectly feckin' clear what I needed, but he isn't giving it to me.

The urge to cross my arms and huff is strong, but then Cillian walks into the room, distracting me from my impending horny tantrum.

"Woah, why are you undressing her?" Cillian's face is all concern as he rushes over.

"Don't worry, Killer," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes as Boris stands, "he already refused to give me the orgasm I asked for."

I'm aware I'm being a bit of a brat, but I'm in pain, dealing with PTSD, and I just want these damn men to make me forget!

Is an orgasm really too much to ask for? Especially since there are two men walking around here looking like motherfeckin' gods.

Boris reaches out to me, helping me sit up so I don't have to work my sore ribs so hard. After removing my shirt, he pinches my chin and tilts my head up to look at him.

" Lisichka , I said it was time for a hot bubble bath. I never said I did not plan on bringing you the pleasure you requested."

I bite my lip trying to hold back my grin. I don't know exactly what he has planned, but what girl ever said no to a bubble bath and orgasms? If anyone actually has, they're the definition of crazy.

Cillian chuckles as Boris scoops me into his arms.

"So, a pleasure bath. That sounds like fun."

He rubs his hands together, following us into the large space. The bath is separate from the shower and sits in the center of the room. Boris climbs the steps to it and sets me down on a cushion at the edge before turning on the water.

"Get her some things from the drawer to go in here," Boris directs Cillian, pointing to the vanity next to the bath.

While waiting for the tub to fill, I take a minute to look at myself in the mirror across from us. Most of the bruising has faded, and the swelling is pretty much gone. But the scabs from all of the marks Green made on my body stand out, the dark patches scattered along my arms prominent atop my pale complexion, reminding me of the terror I endured.

I try not to let the sight of them throw me into another spiral, but every time I see them, all that flashes through my mind's eye is Green's face and those damn teeth of his… chewing . When my breath grows shaky, Boris places a hand on my shoulder.

"Open your eyes, baby."

I hadn't even realized I closed them. Immediately, I obey. And when his face comes into view, my nerves settle a bit.

"I think I might need to chat with Dr. K after all," I admit quietly.

"When you are ready to give her a call, let me know."

Thinking about my phone and where it ended up, I suddenly remember all of the things that were on my person at the time we were taken.

"When you guys came to get me, did anyone get our stuff that they took from us?"

He already knows where I'm going with this. "Your weapons as well as ours were collected, and I had them cleaned and returned to our safe."

"He won't let me play with mine in the house," Cillian says with a pout that makes me huff out a laugh.

"That's for the safety of everyone, including Boris' priceless art," I retort with a smirk.

Cillian wrinkles his forehead.

"Are you insinuating that I don't have full control of my violent urges?" He mockingly places a hand over his heart, in that silly way he always does, as if he's actually offended.

Boris and I simultaneously respond with a resounding, "Yes." To which Cillian shrugs, already knowing the truth.

I'm half worried he would try to shoot a fly if it pissed him off enough. He doesn't need a weapon in the house. This is our safe space and weapons stay locked away until needed.

Well, locked is a relative term. There is a gun under the couch, in a secret compartment in the entryway, under the island in the kitchen, inside a dining room chair, and other strategic places in case of an emergency. It might be our safe space now, but we have the ammunition to ensure it stays that way if it's ever required.

I'm not certain, however, that Cillian knows what an emergency really is, so I think Boris and I will keep the weapons' locations to ourselves for a bit.

Cillian hands Boris a bath bomb and some salts. Once the temperature is warm enough, he adds them to the tub and swirls the water before helping me step in. Thankfully, the stitches have healed and I'm only left with some scabs at this point.

It still burns a bit getting in, so I take my time sinking down into the water. Once I'm up to my neck in bubbles, the mood in the room changes. I would think being naked in front of both of them would feel weird or vulnerable, but it honestly feels like home.

When both of them are with me, it's like all the pieces to my puzzle are complete.

I relax back against the headrest, and Boris helps tie up my hair. I hear the squeeze of a bottle before warm hands meet my shoulders. The scent of eucalyptus oil floats around me as Boris massages my neck and shoulders.

The lights in the room dim, and the flick of a lighter is all I hear before candlelight starts to pop up all throughout the room. It feels so relaxing that I might actually fall asleep.

Bubble baths have been healing for me since two Christmases ago. I was alone on the island when Boris sent me a mountain of presents. The first thing I opened were candles and bubble bath. My friend Laney and I ended up making a bubble bath date with our gifts from our men and video calling each other. It was the first time I really felt like the people in my life were my family. I'll never forget it.

A serene smile stretches across my face as the weight in my chest begins to lift. Dammit, Boris was right. All I really needed was a hot bath.

In here, I can't remember the bone chilling pain I suffered in that cell. I can't hear Cillian's pleas or Boris' worry as I endured hit after hit, cut after cut. I let out a deep breath and Boris laughs, knowing he was right.

"Don't say it," I whisper.

"I would never." He leans forward to kiss the top of my head while still rubbing my shoulders.

I can feel eyes on me though. When I glance at the end of the tub, Cillian is there. His dark as night gaze laser focused on me. He almost looks like a demon with the candlelight behind him, but I know better.

Boris continues rubbing my neck and stretching out my shoulders. I take some long, deep breaths, helping my lungs expand to ensure I don't develop pneumonia. The menthol scent from the bubble bath has my head feeling clear and relaxed.

When Cillian reaches into the water and takes my foot in his hand, I think I actually step out of my body for a minute. Whoever said orgasms were the way to a woman's heart was wrong, a neck and foot massage in a bubble bath is definitely the way to mine.

Boris moves to my scalp before helping me ease deeper into the bath until I am floating in the water. All of my worries are now gone, and I begin to believe the guys' previous words. We will find a way for this to work, we already are.

After a few minutes, Boris helps me sit up to wash my hair, and Cillian lets go of my feet. It feels like everything I never knew I needed. There was a shower in the hospital I used a few times, and I took one once we got home, but they had to be short because of my stitches.

I can already tell that this is helping heal not only my body but my soul as well.

Strong hands rinse the conditioner and massage my scalp before moving ever so gently lower towards my chest. Boris' fingers graze my nipples, causing them to harden instantly under his touch.

"You better not be teasing right now," I say in a low voice.

He chuckles right next to my ear and bends down, his hand sliding over my stomach until he is hovering right above where I want him to be. When I lean into his shoulder, I feel his bare chest against my skin.

I know any attempt to thrust into his fingers will hurt like a bitch, so I wait. I know exactly what he's doing. He wants to test just how far I'll go for this release. And I have no doubt he'll punish me if I cause harm to myself for an orgasm.

So I wait, like a good feckin' girl. Even if it kills me.

"You better touch her or I will, Old Man."

Boris' fingers brush over my clit, adding pressure while moving in a small circle before he stops.

"Do you need to worry about dinner in the oven?"

Cillian shakes his head. "I've got an hour."

"I believe I only need five minutes," Boris says, a hint of teasing in his tone.

I huff, even though he's not wrong. It's more that they're talking as if I'm not even here that irks me.

"Something to say, Little Fox?"

I bite my lip and lean back so I can look at him, batting my lashes.

"Nope."

He kisses my forehead before finally moving his fingers again. His scruff brushes along my cheek as he settles behind me.

"I promised I would give you everything you need. Is this still what you need?"

His voice is so soft, his movements slow as he checks in with me. It's sweet and endearing and totally Boris.

"I need you," I confess. "Both of you."

I'm rewarded by him flicking my clit under the water. The pain startles me at first, but the pleasure that follows is intense. My gaze goes to Cillian as Boris' fingers swirl around my entrance, teasing the promise of more.

"How does that feel, Sweetheart?" Cillian asks, his eyes trying to see through the bubbles in the water.

"So good." I let myself sink into the feelings Boris brings with only his hand. He knows me well, inside and out. Which is why when he pushes three fingers in and curls them just right, adding pressure to my clit with his thumb, I almost come right then and there.

But Boris knows exactly how to keep me on edge, pulling back right before I fall over the cliff. I gasp, clutching onto his arm and begging for more. I'm not above asking for exactly what I want.

"More, please. I need you."

These men don't try to strip my power from me, they only add to it. So only for them, I'll beg. I'll beg for every last thing they are willing to give me.

"What's he doing to you, Love?" Cillian kneels right in front of me, so focused on my body I don't think he would notice if one of these candles set fire to the house around us.

"He-he's inside me." I'm panting.

I haven't done much since we were rescued from that torture bunker, so this feels like a damn marathon. But it was so worth it. My eyes begin to close as I give in to the pleasure of being touched.

They have both been cuddly with me, but I haven't had both of them like this since they said we would make it work. I am equal parts nervous and excited for everything to come.

"Eyes on me, Sweetheart. I want to see you come undone."

His voice is more dominating than I'm used to, bringing a whole new level of heat to the moment. I do as he commands without question, earning me a smile.

"Such a good girl for us."

He punctuates his praise by adding his hand to the mix, tweaking a nipple before massaging the swell of my breast. My back arches into him while also trying to ride Boris' hand. My body hurts, and my ribs protest, but it feels too good to stop.

"That's it," Boris says, picking up the pace and fucking me with his hand just the way I like, keeping pressure on my clit with each thrust.

When I think it can't get any better, Cillian's hand slips down and joins Boris'. His eyes flit over as if asking for his permission. I can't see what Boris' response is, but Cillian continues feeling around until he adds two fingers to the mix.

"Feck, Love. You want to take both our cocks one day, don't you? You open so well for us, as if you were made for the two of us."

My mouth drops open, but no words come out. Cillian winks at Boris as he says, "I think we work better together, don't you Old Man?"

As if they were in sync, Cillian curls his fingers back as Boris' pumps in and out of me. It's so much all at once that I can't stop from letting go. I explode with the mental image of them both thrusting into me at once.

Gripping the sides of the tub, I cry out both of their names. It's so freeing and feels so damn right. Boris sits forward and claims my mouth. The second he moves back, Cillian is there, kissing me as if his life depends on it. As if I were his oxygen.

Cillian slows the kiss, dragging it out until I can hardly reciprocate, my body going lax from exertion. My limbs feel like literal jelly. Boris sneaks in another kiss the moment Cillian is done. It's so fast I know that they both had to have tasted each other on my lips, and for some reason, that makes me hot all over again.

They both help me out of the tub. Neither of them say anything, but their gentle touches never leave, which is exactly what I needed. Boris wraps me in a giant towel and Cillian carries me back to the bed.

As soon as he lays me down, I look for Boris. When our eyes connect, he nods to me. "I am not going anywhere, Lisichka . This is where we are meant to be. I know it."

"Damn straight," Cillian agrees.

I smile at them both, happier than I think I've ever been in my life. I used to think I was destined to be in a loveless marriage with a hateful man, but somehow, I got the two men who love me more than anything.

They treat me right, like their equal in every way. I have no idea how I came to deserve this, but I vow not to take a single moment for granted with them. If the time we have together is short, which in this life it usually is, I want to enjoy every last second of it.

Cillian leans down and kisses my forehead, but when he tries to pull back, I tug him to me. He nearly falls on the bed on top of me, but misses just slightly.

"Dammit, Ness. I'm going to accidentally hurt you if you do that." His panicked expression makes me smile.

"No you won't." He would never hurt me.

"Oh," he snorts as he sits up on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "I get it now."

"Get what?" Boris asks, grabbing a shirt and cozy boxers out of his drawers for me to wear.

"She needs more."

My face heats. He isn't wrong, and it may or may not have been why I was flirting so hard.

I just can't help it. I went from having sex almost daily, sometimes two or three times a day, to having my heart broken. Then I was tortured, held captive, rescued and stitched up, and had to heal. This girl needs some serious action right now.

"Is that true, baby?" Boris asks, setting the clothes on the side of the bed for me.

Hanging my head, I nod. He pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger lightly, tilting my face so I have no choice but to stare into those icy blue eyes of his.

"You can tell us," he says.

"Yes. I want more."

Boris' lips lift. "Well then, why don't you crawl onto his lap?"

My brows wrinkle because Cillian is clothed and then I get it. Hesitating, I almost stop to ask him if he's okay with it. Before I can, Cillian grabs my wrist and encourages me onto his lap, handing Boris the towel when I'm on top.

My body is on full display for the two of them and it's oddly exhilarating. I feel like I am the center of their world right now. That's an insane feeling.

"So beautiful," Cillian says as he runs a finger over my skin from my neck to my breast. He lingers on the tattoo I got for my sister, a bright fuchsia standing out just under my left breast. When he meets my eyes, I know he knows.

It's like we both pause there and I have no idea what he could be thinking. He has to know she's gone, but does he know how it all happened?

A lump forms in my throat as he traces each vine connecting the three flowers, knotted together in the center. Then his hand dips all the way down to my core.

"Are you going to soak these pants so I have something to jack off to later?"

Sucking my lip between my teeth, I shake my head.

"Oh really?" His brow lifts, making him look even more unhinged.

"Tell him what you want, my little fox."

"I want you to come with me." I look back at Boris. "Both of you."

They glance at each other before returning their gazes back to me. Cillian opens his mouth to speak, but Boris gets there first.

"This is supposed to be about you and the promise we have made."

Cillian inclines his head in agreement but I shake mine.

"You proved your point, now let me prove mine."

When they don't say anything, I sigh and try to explain what I mean.

"I want both of you, and I don't always want that to be separate. If you are both comfortable with that. I also like to give as much as I like to receive. I'm not a pillow princess, though there's nothing wrong with that. But for me, it's just as exciting to see what I can do to you as it is to see what you can do to me."

This finally seems to help them understand.

"Alright then, Sweetheart. Ride me and I'll give you what you want."

I look down between us.

"You still have your pants on," I half whine.

He lets out a low laugh.

"That's to keep me from fucking you like a starved man."

His hands go to my hips, pressing me down on his length through his sweats. My body opens up to him as his hard cock presses on my sensitive clit, and I ache for the fabric to disappear. But he is right, doing more might actually hurt.

Without a word, I rock my hips on it. It's just as impressive as I remember. Cillian has a slight curve to his cock that I was sure could do wonders if he knew how to use it.

Since his confession about not being with anyone else, I wonder if he knows what he's doing now. Then, he rolls his hips, grinding the head of him right over my clit, and I have no doubt he knows exactly how to make me unravel for him.

My hands grip his shoulders for support, and I look back at Boris. I thought for sure I was going to have to beg him, or that it would take a while for him to be comfortable with polyamorous sexcapades, but I was wrong. He's standing right beside me with his cock in his hand, thick and purple at the head.

I reach for it as I lick my lips, but he steps back.

"Take what you require from him first, get close. Then, I will allow you to touch it."

Using Cillian for support, I circle my hips slightly before starting up a back and forth motion we both seem to love. I can hear Boris' hand stroke his cock as I drop my head to Cillian's. It feels so strange to have him back, to have him this close again.

Their scents surround me, mixing with rose from my favorite bath bomb. It smells like home.

I want to cry as emotions hit me from all sides, but when I look into Cillian's eyes, I can't seem to let the tears fall. It's too perfect.

As my breathing picks up, I can feel myself cresting, my breasts rising and falling dramatically. Cillian adjusts my hips so that he can hit a little harder. My thighs draw together as that familiar feeling builds. I reach out for Boris. I need them both.

"I'm so close," I tell them.

"Me too, Sweetheart."

"I am with you, Lisichka ." Boris allows me to stroke his cock with my hand.

"Together," I say, a question and a plea in one.

And just like that, we all fall together . Boris paints my hand and arm with his release as Cillian makes a mess between us, the stickiness seeping through his sweats. It's different, but somehow also just us .

"Together," Cillian promises with a kiss just before Boris tilts my head to the side to claim my mouth.

"Together," Boris whispers into my mouth, a vow so pure it makes my heart feel full, complete.

They each take turns kissing me until I can no longer move, the evidence of our happiness plain as day. It's in the touches and the kisses that are passed as we all take a turn in the bathroom. It's the way Cillian looks at me when I crawl back into bed and the way Boris wraps me around him while leaving room to share.

Cillian brings our dinner to bed, and we watch one of my favorite shows about these friends who all live in New York City. It's funny and peaceful as we all relax for one final day before getting back into the swing of things.

I may still be sore, but I need to get back to work. I need to get moving, and we need to find those kids.

But for tonight, I'll enjoy the life I've been given. It might all blow up in my face soon anyway, but for now, it's perfect.