Page 32 of Packed Up In Vegas

Kai pulled back to let me answer and I huffed and puffed, trying to gather enough coherency to string two words together. I groaned long and low when he slowed his pace and pulled almost all the way out to drive back in.

“F-fuck, f-feels so good,” I choked on a breath when he stilled. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

He chuckled in my ear and drove home; the strangled sound I made was muffled as Kai pressed back into my mouth.

The world seemed to flow in slow motion, seconds dripping by like molasses in winter. Every glide of Amir into me, every subtle shift of Diego, every thrust of Kai over my tongue went through the control panel of my brain, flicking off switches as they went until nothing in the fucking world mattered except the way they touched me. They supported my weight when I melted against them, Diego’s hands bracing my ribs to assist.

I let go. Sliding down the dark and slippery path in my head was so easy. Detaching from my body until just one little thread tethered me to it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Pleasure still snaked up that thread to me, but the sheer overwhelm stayed down with my body, letting my mind float freely.

So light.

Here there was only peace, only quiet and softness.

When Amir bucked into me and the pressure of his knot filled me to overflowing, I screamed around Kai, dropping away entirely when he pulled away, his fist stroking until he splattered warmth against my skin.

I sank under the darkness.

Gentle touches and quiet whispers tried to disturb me, but I had no interest in emerging from where I was just yet.

Rest.

Sleep.

Quiet.

I needed those right now.

The touches and whispers didn’t cease, but eventually they were accompanied by warm water enveloping me and the press of skin.

“Come back, little dove.”

Talking was far too much work, so I stayed silent. Cinnamon infused every breath. I needed that too. Controlling my body through that tiny thread was so much effort I couldn’t be bothered, even though I wanted to turn, to press my face to the source of the cinnamon.

“Callie, precious, wake up.”

No. I was far too comfy to engage with reality again.

Hands smoothed my hair and traced delicate patterns on my skin, over and over. The thread connecting me to my body grew a little with each repetitive motion. Gradually, the thread thickened into a rope and began to inch me back down.

Someone dug into the bottom of my foot, working out the tension until I was groaning.

“Found the Callie comeback button,” someone said with a laugh. Their voices were distorted, slowed down, but not so much that I couldn’t understand the words themselves.

More hands touched me, insistent, digging into my muscles, and twisting both relief and discomfort as knots released.

Bit by bit those hands coaxed me back, forcing me into reality again, but when I opened my eyes everything was dimly lit and I was so cozy. Kai cradled me to his chest, the firm length of his body along my back in the bath. Diego worked the tension out of my hands, and Amir was at my feet.

“She lives,” Diego said with a quiet laugh. “Welcome back, precious. How are you feeling?”

Speaking was still too much effort even though I was at least awake now. I let out a contented hum as my response, closing my eyes again, the flickering candlelight along the vanity too much right now.

Something hard and plastic pressed to my lips and I turned away from it.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

I peeled open one eye to see Miles with a bottle of juice and a straw.

“Drink it, princess,” Amir ordered. “We need to get your blood sugar up a bit.”

---