Page 107 of Cohesion

When he tried to push in, it was far too tight. He eased back and rolled his hips up and down, sliding between Quinn’s cheeks, rubbing himself against Quinn’s body, adding friction and heat.

“Let go, Quinn,” Jericho whispered into his ear. “I’ll catch you.”

Quinn relaxed enough that the head of Jericho’s cock managed to slip inside with relative ease. Jericho bit his lip. Quinn wassqueezing him so goddamn tight. No one had ever been in here before, andfuck,that was… Nothing could have ever prepared him for any of these four men and what they did to him. He was nothing but a vessel, filled with all of them and the emotions they brought out in him. Want, need, care, love that was too much and not enough all at the same time.

Jericho took his time, giving Quinn as long as he needed to adjust before sliding in further. And then he was buried to the hilt, deep inside this man who he knew he couldn’t ever live without despite having lived thirty-seven years without him just fine.

They’d changed everything, and he couldn’t ever turn back the clock and undo what they’d done to him.

“I need you too,” Jericho admitted, heart in his throat. Quinn’s fingers tightened against his. “I’m so completely in love with everything about you. Your strength, your pure heart. I need it. Just like I need Peyton’s fire.” He rolled his hips, and they both groaned. “Will’s relentless optimism. Sebastian’s drive and determination. All of it. I thought I’d been whole before you, but you all found empty parts of me I didn’t know existed, and now I’m complete, and I can’t do this anymore without any of you.”

Quinn squeezed around him, making small helpless sounds that coated them like decadent chocolate drizzled over a dessert.

Jericho plastered himself to Quinn, chest pressed so tightly against Quinn’s back that they were stuck together. There was no beginning or end. Just the two of them.

“We’re going to find him,” Jericho said hoarsely, “and he’s going to be fine because the world won’t spin without all of us together.” He moved in and out of Quinn in a slow, gentle, perfect rhythm. Steady motions in the storm raging. “That’s how I know. That’s how I keep calm and keep going. Because there’s no other acceptable outcome.”

Jericho turned Quinn in his arms, needing to see him and hold him closer. Wanted to sink so deep inside him that they were one person.

Their eyes met as he lifted Quinn’s leg, holding tight to his thigh and sliding back inside him. A much easier fit now, Quinn’s body accommodating him so perfectly.

Quinn’s lips parted, breath wavering. Jericho braced a knee against the side of the counter and then bent and rose up, keeping his hip movement nice and slow. It was a more awkward position, but it allowed him to see Quinn’s face. See the way those eyes glazed over, the grey becoming liquid silver. The way red spread over his cheeks, and perspiration clung to his forehead.

Jericho slipped a hand between them, stroking Quinn in tandem with his light thrusts, squeezing at the top before sliding down. Quinn hardened further in his hand, thickening and throbbing. He was close. So was Jericho.

“Come for me, love,” Jericho said, twisting his hand. Quinn groaned and dropped his face against Jericho’s chest as he did immediately as if on command. Splashes of his cum coated them both. Jericho tensed, following him over the edge as pleasure rushed over him like a wave of heat. He shuddered, emptying himself inside Quinn, staking a claim that was his alone.

The first sob from Quinn wasn’t unexpected. Jericho eased Quinn’s leg down, his dick slipping out. He cradled Quinn to him, holding him as he cried. His shirt and pants were a mess. He didn’t care. If the oil didn’t come out in the wash, he would throw them out. Nothing mattered except Quinn.

He gently carded his fingers through Quinn’s hair, careful not to pull the strands. “I’ve got you,” he said soothingly. “I won’t let go.” He rocked him lightly, making nonsense calming noises, encouraging Quinn to let it out.

Quinn cried harder, giant agonised sobs from deep in his gut, ripping Jericho apart from the inside. He held Quinn as closely as he could, wrapping him up tight. Jericho would hold him closer, meld their bodies together if he could, if it meant giving Quinn the comfort he needed.

He couldn’t ever let go, and he would never give up. Not until everything was right in their world again.

Chapter Fifteen

Peyton paced the smallarea in front of the windows of the dining area. Six and Will were both at the laptops, doing who the fuck knew what. The sound of tapping fingers on keyboards was starting to drive him insane.

He’d never been on this side of an investigation before. He’d already decided that he fucking hated it. By the time his team got involved, everything was done. They were given a destination and a target and sent in. Zero to a hundred in ten seconds, with everything laid out in front of them. Get information, take someone out, extraction, it didn’t matter. The sitting around gathering initial intel with thumbs up asses had already happened by the time they got there.

This waiting around bit wasbullshit. He wished he was tired enough to go lie down again. Quinn and Jericho were asleep now after being up all night. Peyton, however, was wide awake, jittery, and needed something to do that wasn’t fucking nothing.

“You said that Mulhall has been in jail for years now, right?” Will said, chewing on the end of his pen as he stared thoughtfully at his computer.

“Right,” Six answered.

“But he’s hired more than a few people since coming here to do his dirty work.” Will tapped the end of the pen against his bottom lip. “Jack Sweeney had people helping him too. And we know that they have at least a semi-professional sniper. That would take some pretty serious dough.”

“Or some pretty big fucking promises,” Peyton said. If there wasn’t any money, how could it be exchanged?

Six leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs with his ankles crossed on the table. “You’re right. He could definitely be making promises that he can’t keep,” he said, sucking on his lower lip. “It’s not surprising. Most bigger criminals have a silver tongue, and butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. You’d be surprised how charismatic they are and how easily they find thugs and idiots to follow them.”

“They can’t beemptypromises, though. He has to have something that’s proof he’ll follow through.” Peyton flipped a chair around and straddled it backward, arms crossed over the back of it. “So where’s he getting this money from?”

“He doesn’t have any,” Six answered. “No bank accounts under his name or attached to it. He came out of jail with nothing, and he still has nothing. In Melbourne, he’d have had ‘friends’ that would have given him a hand, for a price he’d have to pay one day—lucky guy. But here? He doesn’t know anyone here.”

“Who’s he making promises to, then?” Peyton asked. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out.Aidan.

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