CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

MIRA

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Two Years Later...

I put the final loop on my signature and slap the book shut.

Five hundred signed copies.

My wrist is throbbing. My back aches. I’m exhausted and pretty sure blind in one eye, but I grin as I set the final signed copy of my published novel on the pile taking up one whole corner of my home office.

I still can’t believe it.

It all happened so fast, an overnight flip that took my life on a spin and all because I survived when twenty-two other girls didn’t.

Twenty-two.

Only ten found their families. Most were runaways Lucy found under bridges and living in parks. Several were hitchhikers. Girls no one knew needed help. The twelve unnamed were given proper funerals. I made sure of it. I attended each one. I mourned with those with families. In the end, it did nothing to change anything.

Escaping the Cellar , my bestselling novel diving into the evils of Jefferson, the blind eye of justice, and the twenty-two souls lost due to careless negligence hit every chart and even a whole year of book signings, TV appearances, talk shows, documentaries, podcast interviews, some days, I can only sit and stare at my life with wonder.

I found my calling.

Strange, really. Before Jefferson, I had no future. Nothing I could hold on to and build that was mine.

Four days in that hell and I found my passion. I started writing. I put words on paper and built a structure of truth. I caught the eye of a publishing house dedicated to crime biographies. They took me on, gave me a chance to stretch my writing muscles documenting the lives of victims and killers.

I love it.

I love my job. I love our rooftop apartment in Christian’s building. I love my greenhouse the boys built me. I love my life. It took a lot of therapy sessions — all with Dr. Pollack for the last two years — to finally come to a good place mentally.

I think it’s having a purpose. As the only survivor of the Carr Family, it’s my job to give those girls a voice and hopefully peace. Granted, writing true crime documentaries was never the career I expected to fall into, but I’m here and I’m making it my place.

Stiff, but relieved to be finished, I shove out of my chair. My knees and back immediately protest the rapid gesture, but I grip the corner of my desk and stay upright. I rub at the small of my back and groan when I prod the fancy, new knot I’d formed after being hunched over for nearly four hours straight.

Daniel teases that I’m going to develop a hump if I don’t find a better position, but that’s a problem for another day.

I pick my way gingerly to my office door and slide it open. Both my boys are home somewhere. Daniel might be in his office down the hall from mine, but I know Christian is wandering around the apartment; he’d been a restless spirit pacing outside my door for nearly two hours. Somedays, he’s worse than Lord Whiskers who occasionally appears at my office window and glares at me with his squished little face until I relent and let him in for cuddles and kitty treats. Christian is kind of the same — he also wants cuddles and treats.

But it has been several hours since I’ve gone to see them. I usually don’t lock myself away this long and I miss them.

When the family living on the top floor bought a house in the suburbs and moved six months after we returned from Jefferson, it was honestly a dream come true. The three bedrooms with full access to the rooftop and an open concept layout is perfect. There’s enough space for Daniel. An office for me. And a bedroom large enough for the king-sized custom bed we designed together as well as the matching toy chest, three dressers, and end tables.

The sitting area is a wide, open space with giant warehouse windows overlooking the main street. The floors are hardwood that matches the high ceilings and the rafters. Christian had practically giggled like a schoolboy when he’d seen that the solid beams ran through the whole space, including the bedroom.

I don’t let myself dwell on the playground the boys have built for us in the bedroom. It’s how I always end up naked across the sheets, arms and legs bound to the many attachments and hooks built into the frame.

Instead, I make my way quietly into the sitting room to find both my boys, each sitting on one of the two sofas facing each other on either side of a glass coffee table. Daniel has his head bent over the laptop open in his lap. Christian is sprawled across the other, an arm flung across his eyes.

“It’s been hours!” he’s groaning. “Doesn’t she need a break?”

“The publishers want the copies delivered to the event before this weekend. It’s already Tuesday. She has to get it done,” Daniel reminds him, never taking his eyes off his screen.

A thick patch of hair has slipped over his brow and hangs in his focused eyes. Since mentioning I like fisting their hair when they’re eating my pussy, Daniel has started letting his hair grow longer at the top. It’s still professional with the sides snipped short, but there’s enough of his downy strands to bury my fingers in and ride his face.

The thought has me biting down on my lip. The aches of being stooped over my desk all day vanishes as I trace those perfect folds and try not to think of waking up just this morning with his tongue deep in my core.

It’s become a tradition, an unspoken rule that no one is allowed to leave the bed until we’ve all cum at least once, except me — three is my minimum.

Definitely not complaining.

They take way too good care of me. I know I’m fucking lucky. Every need and want is met immediately and without question. Every day is filled with more love than I ever expected to find. I’m so happy I want to just sit and cry some days.

But not today.

Christian’s right; I’ve been gone all day and all I want is to crawl into their lap and let them hold me.

“I bet I could forge her signature and help—” Christian states boldly, making my eyebrow lift the same time as the corner of my lip.

“That’s illegal, and Mira likes signings.”

My cramped hand disagrees but he’s not wrong. I love meeting people who have read my book and have questions or just want to meet me so I can sign their book.

“I miss her.”

His grumbling widens my grin. I understand his frustrations. Poor Daniel has to hear it from both of us when Christian is gone for work.

He’s not gone more than a week at the most a month and sometimes, I do tagalong, but it’s a long week for all of us when he goes alone. Same when I go for signings or events. I miss my boys like crazy.

“She’ll be done soon.”

Rather than hurry over to them, I turn and creep to the bedroom.

The bed, a sturdy block of solid mahogany takes up most of the space with a broad headboard and footboard cushioned across the back for comfort and noise. The center on both ends is carved around six iron spirals down the center with chunks of wood left over on either side for the four iron hoops.

I can’t reach both at the same time, but if I’m in the center of the mattress with ropes attached to my wrists and ankles, I create a very vulnerable starfish completely at the mercy of her tormentors, watching them do whatever they want through the mirror fixed to the ceiling.

I catch a glimpse of myself as I hurry to my dresser and pull the bottom drawer. I have to shove aside some of my sweaters to find the bag I’d stuffed towards the back.

I had been saving it for the boys’ birthdays, specifically Christian’s, but it’s still months away and I’m too excited to wait anymore.

Trying not to make a sound, I unpack my gift. Wash and clean it thoroughly. Then set it on the nightstand with a bottle of lube and a silk blindfold from the several we keep in the toy chest.

I strip quickly before yelling, “Boys, can I get a hand in the bedroom?”

I hear Christian’s excited, “She’s out!” Followed by hurried footsteps.

Both stop in the doorway and blink. Their surprise lasts a second before Christian has torn his top off. The fabric hits the corner by the door while his hands are already at his pants.

“Get on the bed.”

Christian grins, jeans at his knees. “I love it when you get bossy.”

I know he does. I know how hard he gets when I take control. We have that in common. We both like taking turns dominating the other. Daniel is all dom. He likes the control. He’ll let me take the reins occasionally, he definitely loves watching Christian dominate and destroy me, but with Christian, I get to really be bossy without having the tables flipped and finding my ass stretched around Daniel’s punishing dick.

“On your back.”

Fully stripped, Christian scrambles up onto the mattress and does what I say. His beautiful erection is a solid weight resting against his pelvis, head a fat, purple mushroom shiny with pre-cum.

I ache with how badly I need him inside me. My core, already slick and ready, pulses.

I scoop the blindfold off the table and crawl up next to him.

“No peeking,” I tell him, sliding it over his beautiful eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies eagerly, hips doing a little wiggle as he gets comfortable.

I kiss him. Long and slow. Taking my time tasting the taste of coffee off his tongue. I nip on his lip just hard enough to elicit a tiny groan from him before pulling back.

I turn my head to find Daniel. Not at all surprised to find his eyes fixed on me from the open doorway where he’s propped a shoulder against the frame. His arms are folded over the soft cotton of his white dress shirt.

“Come play, Daddy,” I tease, crooking a finger at him.

An excited flutter erupts in my belly when he pushes off and starts towards me with his long, powerful strides. He reaches the side of the bed and has to plant a fist into the mattress in order to reach over and twist his fingers in my hair and drag my face to his.

“I want to watch you play with your uncle, little doll.”

A thrill shimmies down my spine and collects at the base of my belly that intensifies when he crashes his mouth to mine and invades my mouth with a demanding plunge of his tongue.

I’m breathless and dizzy when he finally releases me. My heart is hammering in my chest, a cacophony of chaos I greedily relish, especially when Daniel pulls back and begins undoing the buttons on his top.

He removes every layer of clothes while I watch and stroke Christian’s cock. I continue even as Daniel drags a pillow up against the headboard and takes his place to watch.

Excited to please them both, I turn my attention to the man pulsing in the palm of my hand. His breathing is slightly ragged, but not to the extent I want it. Not yet.

Releasing him, I crawl to my gift and the lube and gather both up and bring them with me to the wide V of Christian’s legs.

Since that night back in Jefferson when I fingered Christian’s ass, we’d done it a few more times with my fingers. I can get two in there now and he loves it so I’m feeling pretty good about the new addition to our toy chest as I soak it in lube.

I was very careful to pick a small plug. Nothing bigger than my fingers, but when I saw this one, saw the functions, I couldn’t pay fast enough.

Now, as I bend at the waist and gather Christian’s cock between my lips and prod his back entrance with my slippery fingers, I can hardly wait to share this with him.

“Fuck...!” he groans in that raw sound that makes me shiver.

His hips buck up into my mouth. My hand. Driving himself down on my fingers. I suck in time to my pumps, stretching the muscles. Getting him ready.

I don’t stop sucking when I withdraw my hand. I take him right to my throat when nudging his hole with the silicone plug.

Christian stiffens. His fingers fist into the sheets. Even in my bent position, I keep my eyes on his face, watching for even a flicker of discomfort to stop.

“Mira,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

I immediately pause. “Stop?”

His jaw moves. His nostrils flare. The hard wall of his chest lifts.

“No.”

Still, I ease him on it gently. Letting his body stretch and fold over the toy until it’s settled in place.

He’s breathing hard. A thin sheen of sweat glistens across his brow.

I leave him impaled and crawl over him to take his mouth.

“Okay?” I ask him softly in between kisses.

He nods, but it’s tense. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

I kiss him harder. My arms snake around his neck and I flatten my chest against his.

“You did so good,” I whisper softly. “I’m so wet right now.”

He groans and slips his arms across my back. “Show me.”

Without breaking our lip-lock, I nudge my hips down and breach my opening with just his head. Just the head. I cradle him there as I reach across the cool sheets for the remote.

Biting back my grin, I level myself up. Brace myself with my hands on his chest. The tiny remote pinched between my fingers as I peer down into Christian’s face, not wanting to miss a second of his reaction when I hit the power button.

His entire body bows. The violent lunge drives his cock deep into my channel, making us both cry out as the little device in his ass hums up his shaft. I can almost feel the faint rock as it thrusts up inside him automatically while I ride his dick.

“Fuck ... fuck! Jesus ... fuck, Mira!” Christian roars as I match the second function increase.

I stop there.

I don’t want to use up all the fun in one shot. Besides, baby steps. I want him to enjoy his gift.

Gingerly, I tear off the blindfold and meet the swirling pits of hell blazing behind his eyes.

“Do you like it?” I pant, pumping my hips and watching his contorted face.

His fingers are digging purple flowers into my hips, driving me down harder as he’s getting fucked with the toy.

“Don’t. Fucking. Stop!” he snarls, lips curled back over his gritted teeth.

I love it.

Holy shit.

Seeing my baby lose his shit has my own climax rushing to meet me, but I’m not ready and I’m not ready for Christian to cum.

I slow the vibration but keep the thrusting to a two.

“Don’t cum!” I pant.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t think...” Gasping, he drops his head back on the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut tight enough that I’m sure it hurts.

I raise my head to the figure watching me. Always me. His eyes are weighted pits of raw pleasure taking me in as I fight my body’s need for release.

“Fuck my ass,” I plead, but I hear the demand in my tone and so does Daniel when he lifts his brow. “Please, Daddy,” I try again.

Over the last couple of years, I have come to really love the feeling of them in me together. It took several more attempts to fit them comfortably in both holes, but once I could without breaking down in tears, it’s all I want. All the fucking time. Neither seem bothered by my obsession. Even when I wake up at night, one or both are already reaching for me. Or, in some cases, already inside me. Those are my favorite. Waking up already stretched and filled by a thick cock while a tongue laps at my clit.

“Please,” I whimper again.

“Do it, goddamn it, Daniel. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off,” Christian snarls at his brother.

He seems to consider it a long moment and I’m ready to beg again when he moves to take his place behind me.

Heavy hands drop to my hips. I immediately drop across Christian’s chest, giving Daniel a clear path to drench my back entrance with the lube bottle I’d used for Christian’s toy.

I shiver at the cold liquid running down the center of my body, soaking the cock buried to the hilt and throbbing inside me.

Daniel’s head brushes my puckered entrance, but his hand twists up in my hair. My head is yanked back with the same sharp yank as the slam of his hip driving him up alongside his brother’s dick.

My scream is a garbled wail of pain and pleasure that Daniel ignores.

“We are going to talk about that tone, my little toy,” he growls into my temple as he pounds into me.

“Yes, Daddy,” I sob, slamming my hips back to meet every attack. To ride both my men “I’m sorry. I won’t—”

Two thick fingers shove in between my lips and press down on my tongue, successfully silencing me even as he presses his lips to my ear and growls, “Greedy fucking doll. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Riding my brother’s dick and begging your daddy to fuck your ass.”

His fingers are so deep down my throat I almost choke. He’s thrusting them against my tongue, matching the dick he’s pounding into my ass. Ramming so hard, I’m seeing stars.

All the while, the fingers of his free hand are still in my hair, keeping my neck forced back, my spine arched. My breasts thrust out in offering to the hands Christian wraps around them. Ropes of saliva dribble down my chin and hit my chest and Christian smears it across the hard peaks of my breasts.

“Faster,” Christian orders, pinching my damp nipples and twisting hard enough to sting.

I try to cry out, but I can’t. I can only do as I’m told and fuck them harder, but it’s not enough.

Christian bites my nipple. I know he’s drawn blood even before he’s running his tongue over the searing pain.

“Quiet, my filthy little toy,” Daniel admonishes when I wail around his digits. “Your body belongs to us, and we can do whatever the fuck we want to it.”

Christian snickers against the breast he’s trying to fit fully into his mouth. “Uncle’s greedy whore. You like getting used and degraded, don’t you, Mira?”

I try to nod, but I’m cumming. It rushes up and over me like a dark tide and I can’t breathe.

“Daddy!” I whimper, nails digging into Christian’s chest.

“Cum on your uncle’s cock, Mira. Show Daddy what a good doll you are.”

I’m already so close, but it’s Christian’s fingers slipping between my slippery lips to tease my clit that finally pitches me over.

“Oh God, Christian!” I think I wail as I grip my boys inside my pulsing channels and fall to pieces.

Christian promptly follows, coating my pussy with his hot release.

Daniel takes longer.

I know he’s deliberately withholding.

I’m slumped across Christian’s chest, my ass up in Daniel’s hands as he enjoys the view of my used pussy leaking across his brother’s dick.

When he does finally cum, his big hands spread my ass cheeks to watch his seed run down to join the puddle smeared across Christian’s abdomen.

“This is the only way your cunt should ever look,” he muses quietly. “Stretched. Used. Leaking.”

I shiver at his deep, guttural drawl.

My channel squeezes and expels our mixture from my body which makes Daniel groan and slide a finger in each hole like he’s plugging me up.

“Daddy,” I breathe into the side of Christian’s throat, over his hammering pulse.

Gently, he withdraws. I feel his lips brush the spot between my sweaty shoulder blades before he pulls back enough to let me push up.

I go straight to gingerly dislodging the toy from Christian’s body before anything else. I hold on to the flared base as I go to check on him.

“Still okay?” I ask.

He’s lying with one arm hooked up and over across his eyes, but he gives a weak grunt that I take for confirmation.

After washing off and tidying up, I return to Christian and curl up against his side. His arm immediately hooks around me as Daniel slips in behind me and curves along my spine. He drags the sheets up around us and I snuggle comfortably in my spot.

I close my eyes and smile at the unadulterated happiness sweeping through me. The bliss. I nuzzle Christian’s chest while threading my fingers through the ones splayed across my belly.

“Still daddy’s and uncle’s baby girl, Mira?” Daniel asks.

I nod quickly, already half asleep. “Yes. Always.”

“So proud of you,” he murmurs, hold tightening on me. “You make us so happy.”

“I love you,” I tell them both.

“How much?” Christian murmurs into the top of my head.

“More than anything,” I assure, a little curious by the tense question.

A patch of silence stretches between us. I can feel the two exchange glances over me and I pry one eye open.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, moment of bliss thickening to suspicion.

Christian’s finger tucks beneath my chin and my face is lifted to his. “How much do you love us, sweetheart?”

I tug away from his hold and twist onto my back to face both of them. “Why...?”

Daniel smooths a finger along the hollow of my cheek. “You mean the world to us. Absolutely everything.”

My eyes narrow. “What’s going on?”

Christian wiggles over onto his side so I’m sandwiched between the pair; usually my favorite spot, but the way they’re both watching me is making my stomach hurt.

“We’ve been talking and we were hoping you’d be willing to make honest men of us,” Daniel states with a hint of apprehension.

But I’m confused until it hits me.

My eyes widen. “You want to get married?”

“I told you not to use that line. It sounds stupid,” Christian retorts, glowering at his brother from across me.

“You’re stupid,” Daniel hurls back.

I put a hand up before Christian can respond. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“If you’re ready for it,” Daniel murmurs. “It would have to legally be with Christian, but we can have our own private ceremony between you and me afterwards.”

“Why legally with Christian?”

“I was your stepdad. It’s too messy to explain to people.”

I want to point out it’s none of anyone’s business. Besides, I’m not about to go around telling people, but that isn’t important.

“If you need time to think about it...” Christian begins, but I’m already shaking my head.

“I don’t have to think about it. I want to.” I touch both of their faces, stroke their cheeks. “There isn’t a damn thing else I want more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you both.”

Both kiss me deeply and I melt into the mattress as they consume what’s left of my heart.

“City hall tomorrow,” Christian breaths once I’ve released him.

“No!” Daniel snaps. “It’s going to be a proper wedding.”

“With three people?” Christian challenges, and I have to agree.

“I think a private ceremony on a beach in the Caribbean sounds perfect,” I cut in before the two can start bickering. “Nothing crazy. Just the three of us. Fuck anyone else.”

Daniel kisses me as Christian trails his lips across my jaw and down my neck. His hand splays across my ribcage, curves beneath my breast.

“We would much rather fuck you,” he growls, descending across my chest to capture a nipple.

I giggle and wind my arms around Daniel’s neck. “I fully support that decision.”

With that, I let my boys take care of me. I let them paint our futures together across my skin.

It may not always be perfect, but we’ll figure it out.

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THE END

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