13. Vogue

No one talksas we leave Aaron's place. Dad's place. My place. Fuck. Everything is moving in rapid motion, making me feel slightly ill with the tilt of each passing second. How did I go from blaming and hating a father I never even knew, to trusting him and hating my mother? It's a flip-flop of events, but somehow, in this fucked up little world, it has to be this way.

I won't be hurt again. I don't think I can take another hit, not after this one that has pulled my entire childhood out from under me.

It's like moving through water as I climb back into the SUV to go to the penthouse to pack, only to come back here and move in with the father I've known only a couple of weeks.

The car ride back to the penthouse is quiet, almost reflective. No one speaks. I don't think anyone has anything to say right now, so why waste breath on inane conversation?

When we arrive back, the penthouse feels too big, too empty. Quen's hand finds my elbow, guiding me away from the others. His eyes search mine, brows pinched with worry.

"Vogue, are you sure about leaving Crestmont?" Quen's voice is low, but there's an edge to it, like he's trying to keep his emotions in check.

I nod, not trusting my voice just yet. Choices like these don't come easy, but sometimes life doesn't give you the luxury of easy choices. "I've thought it through. Albeit quickly and with force, but it feels right. This is something I have to do."

His gaze doesn't waver, and I can see him wrestling with the urge to argue, to protect. But he knows as well as I do, that I have to do this.

"Okay," he finally says, and that single word promises support.

"I'm not giving up. Not completely," I tell him, my voice steady even as I feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me. "I'll keep at it, part-time. It'll take me longer, but this was my dream. I'm not giving it up."

Quen listens, his expression tight, but I can tell he's hearing me. That's all I ask for—just someone to listen. He nods once, and I know he gets it.

"Okay," he says. "As long as you're sure."

"I am." I turn away from him, my heart thumping in a steady rhythm, and make my way to my room. It's time to pack, again since I arrived at Crestmont. Second time's the charm. Or third if you count the move from Westfield. As I fold my clothes and stash my books, I let myself feel it—the buzz of anticipation, the ache of leaving, the excitement I know even a second with my dad will give me.

But a single tear escapes anyway, sliding down my cheek, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. No time for crying. There's work to do, a future to build, and I won't let anything stand in my way. Not even my own fear. The guys will still be here. I'm not even that far away. Dad lives closer than I imagined he would. Not that I even really thought about his home. I didn't exactly have time.

I zip the last compartment and heave my bag onto the bed, muscles straining under the weight. I'm not just packing clothes; I'm stowing away pieces of a life that's threatening to unravel at the seams.

"Vogue." Thayer's voice breaks through the silence of the room. I turn and all four of them are crowding in the doorway like a human barricade. Their faces are serious, but their eyes are doing all the talking.

"Guys? Everything okay?" I ask, the word hovering between question and accusation.

"Listen," Thayer starts, and the others nod, stepping closer into the room, "we've been talking."

"Yeah?" My heart starts doing this weird skippy thing because it's not every day that your guys line up like they're about to drop some kind of bomb.

"And we decided we're coming with you. Aaron can go fuck himself if he wants to try to stop us." Quen takes over, his voice steady as ever.

For a second, everything stops. The air in my lungs, the thoughts in my head, the thud of my pulse—it all goes quiet.

"You can't," I say instantly. "You haven't graduated yet. It's different for me. This is post-grad."

"Oh, yeah, keep forgetting you're an older woman, baby girl," Thayer muses with a smirk.

Callum chuckles and comes closer. "There is not a chance in hell we are leaving you in that viper pit alone. Besides. Who will wet our dicks when we get horny?"

"Ah!" I gasp in mock horror. "That's fucking nice."

Harry snickers and joins Cal and me, taking my other hand. "You can't get rid of us. We'll figure something out with graduating. Fuck knows none of us want to be here if you're not."

"Really?" My voice is a whisper, barely squeezing past the lump forming in my throat.

"Really," Quentin confirms.

"Shit," I breathe out. This is support without strings, love without limits. I turn into him, letting his mouth devour mine as I tug at his clothes. I need his cock inside me, I need all of their cocks inside me, as many as will fit at one time. We're a tangled mess of urgency and need, each touch lighting something primal in us. There's no room for doubt or fear as hands roam and mouths claim; every kiss is a pledge, every caress a vow. The air is charged with our collective lust, thick enough to taste.

I pull back from Quen just enough to see Harry unbuttoning his shirt with that predatory grace he carries so effortlessly. My eyes flick to Thayer, who's kicking off his shoes while giving me that look that says I'm about to be worshipped in every dirty way possible. Callum is already naked, watching us with hooded eyes that promise sin.

Their want for me is all-consuming and powerful. A living thing in the room with us. We feed it and stoke it until it's an inferno none of us can escape from, even if we wanted to.

My clothes are discarded hastily until we're skin on skin on skin. I'm at the centre of this storm of passion, each of them touching and kissing me like I'm their lifeline.

Thayer's mouth claims mine, biting and suckling my lower lip as Callum's hands run down my sides to grab my hips and pull my ass against his already hard cock. Quen is on his knees before me, lips trailing a scorching path from my navel downwards, while Harry takes control of my breasts, sucking and biting my nipples until I am weak with craving. Callum slowly guides me backwards before he climbs on the bed and drags me with him, Quen still on his knees a few feet away,

"Come to me," I murmur, and his eyes flash. He drops to all fours and crawls over, the muscles in his back and arms powerful as he makes his way over to me slowly.

When he reaches me, Quen's tongue flicks out again, tasting me, teasing me open under his skilled touch, and I arch into him, a wordless plea for more. His chuckle vibrates against my skin, and I shudder with need. Callum's heat sears through me as he presses his chest against me. His lips find my neck, teeth grazing lightly before sucking a patch of skin into his mouth, marking me as his with a possessiveness that sends tingles over my skin. Harry strokes himself as he continues to suck on me.

Thayer slides his hands up my thigh, pulling my legs further apart, exposing me further to Quen's relentless mouth. I'm spread wide, open and vulnerable to their gaze and touch. My nerves are alight with an electric current that only they can sate.

Harry lefts his head from my breasts and rises, his cock nudging at my lips. "Open for me," he breathes out, a command laced with dark desire. I oblige, letting him slip into the warmth of my mouth as I swirl my tongue around him, tasting his pre cum.

Callum groans behind me before he cups my breasts, pinching my nipples roughly. Quen's fingers replace his mouth, and he slips one inside me alongside his tongue. A muffled cry escapes me at the sensation.

"Two at a time, baby girl," Thayer murmurs, handing something to Callum.

He rips open the condom and rolls it over his cock, as Quen and Harry step back. Thayer positions me on the bed on all fours, his cool fingers coated with lube press against my rear hole.

"Cal is going to fuck your ass while I take your pussy at the same time, baby girl. Can you handle that?"

Gasping with surprise and want, I moan and nod, not only wanting it but needing it more than anything.

Thayer moves away and lies down on the bed. Callum's hands steady me as I climb onto Thayer. Cal aligns himself at my ass, pushing in. The stretch is intense, a burn that blurs the line between pleasure and pain, and I know this is what I need from them. To be claimed this way, utterly and completely.

Thayer slides into my pussy slowly, his girth filling me in a different way than Callum, yet just as completely. The push-pull of their movements rocks me between them, a vessel of their combined possession. Their rhythm builds steadily, each thrust deeper, harder than the last. Every time Callum pulls back, Thayer drives in. My mind spirals into a haze of lust.

Harry takes my hand and guides it to his dick, still wet from my mouth. "Work me," he murmurs. I stroke him with the same rhythm that's taking me apart from the inside out.

Quen watches us intently, his arousal evident as he strokes himself leisurely as he positions himself at my mouth. I suck him deep, taking three cocks all at once.

A switch flips inside me, and I'm lost to them.

Callum leans over me, his breath hot against my ear. "You're ours, Vogue," he growls, the sound vibrating through me. "Forever. You're never getting away from us."

I can only moan around Quen's cock as everything tightens and coils within me. Thayer's grip on my hips becomes almost painful in its intensity.

The tension spirals tighter until it snaps. My orgasm crashes over me in waves that blot out thought, time, everything but them and their touch. My pussy clamps down on Thayer as I cry out around Quen's cock.

Within seconds, Thayer follows with a deep groan, filling me as Callum pounds into my ass. I know he's worn the condom so he can dive into my pussy afterwards, I can't fucking wait. I lift off Thayer's cock slowly, giving Callum the go-ahead. He withdraws from my ass and rips the condom off before plunging into my dripping pussy with a groan that makes my clit twitch again already.

"Can you take two of us in your cunt, princess?" Harry asks.

"Yes," I pant. "Fuck, yes."

After a bit of swapping about, Harry is under me and stuffing his engorged cock into my pussy alongside Callum's.

I scream as the pleasure is overwhelming, a double fullness that stretches me in ways I didn't know were possible. The two of them move together, a perfectly coordinated dance of thrusts that sends jolts of ecstasy spiralling through my every nerve ending. Their hands roam over my body, claiming every inch of me as theirs.

Quen's hand finds my chin and tilts my head up, his eyes burning into mine. "Look at me," he commands, and I can't look away as he strokes himself harder. "Fuck, you're beautiful stuffed with cock, little kitty."

I moan in response to his words as his hand goes around my throat, tightening enough to choke me,

Underneath me, Harry grunts. "Fuck, yes." He comes hard, thrusting up into me as he pumps his cum out.

His release triggers Callum's orgasm moments later. He growls as he unloads, but he's gone even before I'm full of his cum, replaced by his twin, who takes me from the two men and lays me down on my back. He looms over me, his cock ready to take me. I'm exhausted, but the sight of Quentin's predatory look rekindles a fire inside me. He enters me with a single, swift motion that robs me of breath. My body welcomes him, already slick with the others' cum. The sheets are a mess beneath us.

Quentin sets a punishing pace, his thrusts forceful and deep. "Mine."

I can't form words anymore; it's all too much—the pleasure, the heat, the ownership. Their presence consumes me until I'm nothing but sensation and need. Each stroke is a claim, and each touch is a brand.

My next orgasm builds quickly under Quentin's relentless pursuit. It swells, unstoppable and fierce, before thundering through me, sweeping me away in its current until I drown in ecstasy.

Quentin follows soon after with a low snarl, emptying himself into me as if he could imprint his essence onto my very soul.

"Fuck, Vogue. I can't get enough of you."

"Same. But I'm not sure we can do that under my dad's roof."

The guys chuckle darkly. "Oh, we can," Quen murmurs. "And it will be hot as fuck knowing he could catch us."

"He would kill you," I giggle.

"That's what makes it so delicious," Thayer says as Quen rolls off me.

"Let's go before I change my mind," I say, climbing off the bed, my legs weak and my hands shaking.

I dive into the shower and get dressed as the guys wait for me in the living room. I have no idea what awaits me at my dad's now, but I know this is the right move at the right time.

Everything else will fall into place.