26. Vogue

Sittingon the coffee table with a bottle of water in my hand, I wish it was stronger as I stare at my dad, pale but breathing as he rests.

The door opens, and the guys stride in, looking for all the world like they've been to a massacre in a minefield.

Standing abruptly, I say, "Everyone okay?"

Quentin comes to me and wraps his arms around me, cupping the back of my head as he holds me close, not saying anything. I cling to him, tears welling up after the stress of the day melts away. "Fine," he whispers, pulling back. "What about you and Aaron?"

"I gave him some painkillers, and he seems to be resting okay, but we need to get him upstairs. The couch needs a scrub, and he needs to be comfortable."

"We'll get it sorted," Callum says, coming over and kissing my forehead. "You're so strong, Vogue. This has been a day, and you're still standing."

I fix him with a sad stare. "Yeah, thanks to my dad. That bullet was meant for me."

"We took care of it," Thayer murmurs as he and Harry join us while Adam goes over to my dad. "The Vipers won't be causing anyone any trouble anytime soon."

"Are you sure? I don't think I can take another day like this one, not yet anyway."

"Totally sure. I put a bullet in their leader's head; Thayer stole most of their money and we blew up their three main locations. We're good. For now."

Snorting at the most inappropriate time ever, I grab Thayer's hand. "You have fun?"

"Oh yeah," he replies with a wicked grin.

"I can get up on my feet myself," Dad's voice rings out behind me,

I turn and pull away from the guys. "No, Dad. Let him help you."

"No." Aaron glares at me, but it's kind of ruined by the fact that he was shot in the chest, is covered in bloody rags as the doctor cut his shirt away and looks like an exhausted mess. "Nothing keeps Aaron McGowan down."

"Fine," I murmur, but give Adam an imploring stare to help.

Adam nods once and follows Dad as he hobbles unsteadily to the stairs, but miraculously stays on his feet.

"Jesus," I murmur, then turn back to the couch. "We need to clean this up. Or maybe throw it out."

"Let's try cleaning first. A bloody couch showing up will cause ructions we don't need," Harry states and turns to head towards the kitchen.

"True," I mutter and follow, ready to get the bleach on this once pristine white leather couch. It'll be ruined, but that's unavoidable.

We spend the next hour scrubbing and wiping, the metallic tang of blood still lingering in the air like a ghost. It's a grim sort of togetherness, each of us lost in our thoughts while our hands work methodically. The couch starts to look less like a crime scene, but the memories it holds are now stained deep memories that won't bleach out.

Eventually, Harry stands back, grunting in approval. "Looks better," he announces.

I toss my ruined rag into the bucket and sink down onto one of the less affected cushions, exhausted.

Callum watches me from across the room, his gaze burning with that intensity only he possesses. "You need rest," he says, a command wrapped in concern. His mafia prince attitude doesn't falter even now, even after all this chaos.

"Yeah," I agree, but there's no energy left in my voice. My body still trembles slightly from the adrenaline crash. Before I can protest or even make a move, Quentin scoops me up into his arms with ease. His warmth seeps into my bones as he carries me upstairs to my bedroom.

The sheets are cool against my skin as Quentin lays me down with gentle care. "Sleep," he murmurs, brushing hair from my forehead with calloused fingers that have dealt death today.

"Stay? All of you?" The suggestion in my tone doesn't go missed by any of the guys who followed us up the stairs.

"Yes, but you need to rest," Callum states.

"Don't want to." I pout in what I hope is a sexy way.

He chuckles and kicks his shoes off, stripping off his tee with one hand while the other goes to work on his pants. He is the most coordinated man I've ever come across, but it doesn't surprise me. The Earl of Woodhurst. Stoic, a pillar of strength and refinement. Hot, sexy and desperately in need of me, if his raging hard-on is anything to go by. I smile, losing all sense of tiredness as he leaps on the bed and starts to help me undress. The other guys are quick to catch up, climbing onto the bed with us, before Harry leaps off to lock the door with a laugh.

He re-joins us and I look at each of them. "I'm so lucky to have you all in my life. At first, I was scared, but you have proven to me that there is nothing to fear."

"We are lucky to have you," Quen murmurs, parting my legs slowly. "And not just for this." He ducks his head and sucks my clit into his mouth.

"Such a way with words," I rasp.

He chuckles darkly and thrusts his tongue into my pussy as Callum leans over to take one of my nipples in his mouth.

The pleasure is a sudden, intense tide, washing over the jagged edges of the day. Harry's hands are everywhere, stroking the sensitivity of my skin into a frenzy. Thayer, with his wicked grin and even wickeder touch, finds the spots that have me arching off the bed, gasping for more.

I'm drowning in them, in their touches and their presence; it's all-consuming and raw. My mind shuts off, focusing only on the sensation, on the now. Without the fear and the uncertainty of our world outside this room, there's just us—the dangerous harmony we've found in the chaos.

Callum's lips trail fire over my breasts as Quentin's tongue finds a rhythm that has my hips bucking, pressing my pussy closer to his face. Harry's teeth graze along my collarbone with a possessive bite that leaves me breathless as Thayer's fingers take over from Quen's on my clit.

This is what our relationship is built on—trust so deep it allows us to navigate this hazardous life together. It's in their touch, heavy with promise and protection.

"Tell us what you need," Callum growls against my nipple, his breath hot and his bites just this side of too rough.

"Everything," I manage to gasp out, as Quentin replaces his mouth with his fingers, thrusting into me with a precision that makes stars burst behind my eyes.

Harry's lips find mine in a searing kiss that steals my breath and mingles it with his. Thayer trails kisses down my stomach. The heat of their mouths is dizzying; it's all-consuming.

I'm the centre of their universe, and they are the gravity that holds me together. My cries fill the room as they drive me toward an ecstasy so intense it threatens to shatter me into a million pieces. My first climax hits, a tidal wave of sensation ripping through me, my pussy clenching around Quen's fingers.

"Can't wait," he says, rising to his knees and grabbing my ankles.

He drags me closer to him, the tip of his cock pressing against my clit before he sinks into me with a force that's as much a claim as it is a relief. The others don't pause. Every motion syncs with Quentin's thrusts.

Callum's voice is in my ear, a dark promise, "We're not even close to being done with you."

I can only whimper in response, my body arcing to meet each of Quentin's deep strokes. There's a possessiveness in the way they touch me as if each one is imprinting themselves onto my skin, and I love it—crave it.

Harry trails his fingers down my side, finding the dip of my waist before sliding lower to where Quentin's cock is buried in my pussy. His touch is electrifying, adding another layer of stimulation that makes my toes curl.

Thayer murmurs something filthy that gets lost in the haze of pleasure. His hands are firm on my thighs, spreading me wider for Quentin, allowing him to plunge even deeper. My senses are overwhelmed; it's a cascade of desire and need that has no end.

As I spiral into another orgasm, possessively clutching Quen's cock. He groans and pounds me a few more times before he unloads inside my pussy with an orgasm that won't quit.

Callum takes over as Quentin moves aside, panting heavily. His blue eyes are dark like pools before a storm. He positions himself at my pussy and drives into me with an urgency that tells me he's been holding back, waiting for his moment to completely unravel me.

Harry catches my mouth with his again, swallowing my moans as Callum sets a punishing pace. He's relentless, each thrust a promise of forever etched in the language of flesh and desire.

I'm lifted up as Cal falls back to the bed, straddling him as I take over, riding him ruthlessly as Thayer moves in behind me. His chest is a solid wall against my spine as he reaches around to pinch and roll my nipples between his fingers. The tension coils tighter within me, like a spring wound up to its breaking point.

"Ready for some doubling up, baby girl?"

"Yes," I pant. "Now!"

I lean forward on Cal's chest as Thayer pushes his cock into my already overstuffed pussy.

"Fuck, your cunt is so tight."

"Are you surprised?" I giggle breathlessly as they start to move, grinding into me with a force that leaves me utterly wrecked and more alive than I've ever felt. It's a dance of power and surrender that has me clinging to the edge. Cal holds onto my hips, guiding me, while Thayer's hands pinch my nipples, twisting them into hard peaks before sliding down to flick my clit.

The dual sensation is mind-blowing; the stretch and fullness, coupled with their relentless pace, push me to a place where pleasure and pain blur into an exquisite symphony. I'm the instrument they play with skilled hands, manipulating every moan that escapes my throat.

I can feel them both throbbing inside me, each thrust a deeper claim than the last. My body quivers around them, convulsing with a force that has tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The pleasure is almost too much, needing to tear down walls, leaving me exposed in the wake of its power.

Harry rams his engorged cock into my open mouth, fucking my mouth as Thayer and Cal fuck my pussy, stoking the fire higher and higher until I'm ready to spasm again.

Cal and Thayer let out guttural groans as they reach their peaks together, flooding me with their cum that feels like it seeps into my very soul. They slow to a stop, panting heavily, still buried deep inside me as we all catch our breath.

"That ass is now mine," Harry murmurs, and I pant around his stiff cock. Thayer drives his fingers into my pussy to scoop out cum to lube me with. I shiver as he presses his fingers to my rear hole as Harry continues to fuck my mouth, holding my head in place while he does it.

Each movement of Thayer's fingers sends tremors through my entire body. I'm so full, stretched in a way that feels both devastating and divine.

Harry's voice is low even as his hips work against my lips, his cock sliding over my tongue. "Let us take care of you, Vogue. You're so good to us."

The slickness on Thayer's fingers ease the way as he presses one finger inside, then another, preparing me for Harry's cock. This act—a deeper claim, an unspoken bond—twists a new knot of desire in my belly.

Callum watches from beneath me with hooded eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful like this," he growls, hands roaming over the curves of my body with proprietary hunger.

When Thayer feels I'm ready, he withdraws his fingers and shuffles away. Harry pulls his cock out of my mouth to move around. The heat of his cock against my back entrance sends jolts of nervous anticipation racing through me.

"Look at me," Cal commands, and though his voice is soft, it's an order I won't defy. I lower my gaze to his as Harry begins to push slowly into my ass. Pain laces with pleasure as he stretches me, inch by agonising inch, but it's a burn I'm eager to embrace. Callum's touch is gentle on my face, his thumb brushing away a rogue tear that's escaped.

"You okay?" he asks, and I nod, the intensity in his eyes nearly as overwhelming as the sensation of being filled by Harry.

"Perfect."

The slight edge of discomfort begins to fade as my body adjusts to the intrusion. Harry moves gently at first, before he buries himself balls deep in my ass with a loud grunt.

Quen circles my clit with his fingers. The pleasure of it spirals through me, as I stare down into Cal's eyes.

"You are gorgeous taking Harry's cock in your ass, like a good girl," he murmurs. "So fucking gorgeous."

I'm awash in a sea of sensation—my body a nexus where their desires converge.

Quen leans forward to kiss me briefly. "Fuck, Vogue. You take us so well. You were made for us."

Harry's thrusts become more insistent, deeper, and I push back against him wanting more. The pain is just another layer now—a dark contrast heightening the pleasure that coils tighter in me.

Quen's fingers are relentless on my clit; Harry's pace drives air from my lungs with each thrust. Callum's gaze burns into me, anchoring me in this moment where I'm consumed by them—owned by them in ways I never imagined possible.

Harry's movements grow more urgent, desperate even. His grip on my hips is bruising, but it only adds to the sweet symphony of sensations that are pushing me toward another climax.

"Come for us," Quentin's voice is almost a whisper, a challenge that pierces through the fog of pleasure, and just like that, I shatter into a million pieces, convulsing around his fingers.

Harry lets out a low growl and stiffens behind me, dumping his load into my ass before pulling out slowly. "Fuck, that was amazing," he rasps.

I collapse onto Cal, my breathing erratic, the aftershocks of my orgasm still rippling through me. Every muscle in my body feels like it's been liquefied; I'm a mess of sweat and cum.

Cal wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. The solidness of him is reassuring as I try to catch my breath.

"You did so good," he murmurs into my hair, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead. I can hear the pride in his voice that sends a warm thrill through me despite the exhaustion.

Thayer and Harry are close by, their hands stroking over whatever parts of me they can reach—shoulders, thighs, hair. It's comforting and possessive all at once. They're marking their territory even as they're offering solace.

"We've got you," Quen murmurs from right beside me, his hand sliding under my chin to tilt my face up for a soft kiss that feels like a promise.

"We always will," Thayer adds.

I let out a contented sigh and settle into them, surrounded by the men who claim me as theirs in every way. But there's more than pleasure here; there's an unspoken vow woven between our tangled limbs and shared breaths—a bond formed not just from flesh but from the blood we've spilt and the battles we've faced together.