Page 80 of The Final Straw

"You're ours tonight," Van repeats, his voice a dark promise.

Grady moves behind me, gripping my hips as he positions himself. I feel the tip of his erection pressing against me, and I push back, eager for more. He enters me slowly, the stretch intense but pleasurable, and I moan, the sensation sending waves of euphoria through me.

Van moves to the front, his erection brushing against my lips. "Open," he commands, and I obey, taking him into my mouth. He groans, his hands tangling in my hair as he guides my movements. Kipp touches my back, tracing patterns on my skin.

Grady's thrusts are deep and powerful. I suck Van harder, the dual sensations pushing me toward my climax. Kipp grips his shaft, gliding his other hand between my legs, finding my neglected clit, and strokes us in time with Grady's thrusts.

The feeling is overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that leaves me gasping for air. Van's hips thrust forward as he takes control. Grady's pace quickens, becoming more urgent.

Kipp works me skillfully, his touch pushing me closer and closer to the brink. I feel the orgasm building, a tight coil of heat that threatens to unravel at any moment.

"Come for us," Van growls. "Now."

The command pushes me over, and I cry out around Van's length. My orgasm crashes over me and I come hard, my juices dripping onto Kipp’s hand and Grady’s cock.

Grady's movements became erratic, and with a final, deep thrust, he groans, finding his own release. Van's grip on my hair tightens, and his length pulses on my tongue as he comes, the salty taste filling my throat. Kipp grunts and I turn my head slightly to watch as he shoots rope after rope of cum into his hand and on my bed.

Kipp presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder. "You were amazing," he murmurs, leaning forward and tilting his head. He slides from bed and heads to the bathroom.

The rest of us collapse into a tangled heap of limbs, our bodies spent and sated. The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the faint strains of music coming from the living room. I lie between them, my body tingling.

Grady brushes my hair back from my face, his touch tender. "You did so well," he says, his eyes full of warmth.

Van's hand finds mine, squeezing it gently. "You're ours," he says again. "Always."

Chapter 39

Grady

The soft light of early morning filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the bed. The four of us are a tangle of limbs and warmth, the sheets barely covering our intertwined bodies. I can feel the steady rise and fall of Ollie's breath against my chest, Kipp's arm draped protectively over her, his leg brushing against mine. It's a moment of quiet peace, a respite from the storm that's been raging in our lives.

The shrill ring of a phone in the living room breaks the silence. I try to ignore it, but it persists. With a sigh, I carefully extricate myself, making sure not to wake Ollie. Her soft murmur of protest as I slide away makes me smile. I tiptoe out of the bedroom, following the sound to its source.

It's Van's phone. I head back to the bedroom, nudging him awake. "Hey, man, your phone is ringing."

Van's eyes snap open, instantly alert. He scrambles out of bed, and I follow him back to the living room, both of us stark naked and unbothered. Our bodies are in sync, muscles taut with anticipation.

"It's the DA," Van whispers, his voice tight with anxiety.

"Answer it," I urge, my own heart pounding in my chest.

Van picks up the call, and I watch as his face pales. He nods and after a few short words are exchanged, he hangs up. "The jury is back. We have to go for the verdict."

Reality crashes back in. We move quickly, the remnants of last night's beer and whiskey making us a bit sluggish, but urgency pushes us forward. We stumble back to the bedroom and wake up Kipp and Ollie. Groggily, they start moving and everyone gets dressed.

I brush my teeth, the minty freshness momentarily masking the stale taste of alcohol. Ollie comes in and splashes cold water on her face, trying to pull herself together.

The clock is ticking. We grab our essentials, and with a quick glance around the apartment, we are out the door. The cool morning air hits us as we step outside.

We make a pit stop at the convenience store on the corner. Red Bulls are a necessity, not a luxury. We each grab one, the cans cold, promising a burst of energy.

With drinks in hand, we hustle toward the courthouse. The streets are busy, but our focus is singular. Each block brings us closer, the anxiety building. The courthouse looms ahead, an imposing structure that feels both daunting and inevitable.

Van takes a deep breath and pushes through the heavy doors, my adrenaline surging as we step inside. The air inside is cooler and more sterile, and the gravity of the situation hits us fully. This is it. The moment we've been preparing for, dreading, and now, finally facing.

We step into the courtroom, the tension thick. We take our spot on the bench behind the DA. As we settle in, Barbi and Jessica turn to glare at us.

Jessica must have been able to bail herself out after the incident yesterday.

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