Page 72 of Nanny for the Bikers

Wet slaps of flesh, grunts and pants fill the room. My mind floats in a haze of lust and sensation. I should feel dirty, used...but I only burn hotter, wetter. I need more. Always more. My tongue swirls and flicks. I bob my head with renewed vigor, taking him deeper into my throat even as I pump the other cock vigorously.

“Fuck, Ayla, just like that. Don’t stop,” Clay rasps , slamming into my core. The delicious friction makes me moan around the dick in my mouth. My body’s on fire, every nerve sparking with desperate need. Owned. Claimed. Theirs.

I work my mouth and hands with extra enthusiasm, driven by an all-consuming desire to make them come undone. To prove myself. Eager to please and be good for them. My jaw aches, my wrist cramps, but I don’t dare relent, spurred on by their reactions - cursing, praising, demanding more.

Tense muscles spasm against my tongue. I feel the tip of the dick in my mouth swell, and I know he’s close. My cunt clenches in anticipation. I suck harder. His cockhead pulses, and then - hot, salty semen shoots down my throat. I swallow, greedy for every drop. His salty essence fuels my own arousal as the other cock in my hand twitches and pulses.

I double my efforts on the dick in my hand, pumping furiously, desperate to make him come too. It doesn’t take long before he grunts and spills his warm seed over my hands. The slick feel of it coating my skin sends a fresh gush of arousal through my core.

Finally, it’s my turn. Pleasure erupts between my legs as I orgasm, screaming through my gagged mouth. I’m drowning in sensation, my body trembling and shuddering around the dick filling me up. I contract around him, milking him dry, as my buried climax washes over me like a tidal wave.

Clay’s thrusts grow erratic, his fingers digging into my hips. “Fuck, I’m gonna--“

His words cut off as he slams deep and stills. I feel him throb inside me, painting my walls with his release.

I collapse bonelessly, spent and sated. The blindfold is gently removed. I blink up at my men through hazy eyes as they unbind my wrists and ankles.

Clay gathers me into his strong arms, cradling me against his solid chest. Teller and Kip settle in close, their heat enveloping me. I’ve never felt so safe, so cherished.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Clay murmurs, brushing damp tendrils of hair from my face. Tenderness shines in his eyes.

“Mmmm, more than okay,” I mumble drowsily, a content smile tugging at my lips. “That was...intense. Amazing.”

“You were perfect,” Kip says softly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Absolutely incredible,” Teller agrees, running a soothing hand down my back.

Cocooned in their embrace, I let my eyes flutter shut. Exhaustion tugs at my consciousness, but it’s overshadowed by a bone-deep sense of rightness. Of belonging.

In the arms of my men, I drift into a peaceful slumber, finally home.

38

AYLA

Istir awake, disoriented and groggy. It takes a moment for my surroundings to come into focus in the darkness. The first thing I notice is the heat - a stifling warmth enveloping me from all sides. As my senses sharpen, I realize the source...Clay, Teller and Kip, their masculine forms tangled around me amidst the sheets.

Sweat beads on my skin, glistening in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. I’m acutely aware of every place our bare flesh makes contact. Clay’s muscular arm draped heavily over my waist. Teller’s stubbled cheek resting against my neck, his breath tickling my ear with each exhale. Kip’s leg hooked casually over mine, pinning me in place.

My pulse quickens as flashes of memory resurface - wandering hands, heated kisses, gasps and sighs of pleasure. I feel a rush of warmth spread through my body, coloring my cheeks. Part of me wants to stay here, wrapped up in them.

But the rational side of my brain takes over, noting the claustrophobic heat, the sheen of perspiration on my skin. I need air, space to cool off and collect my jumbled thoughts. Slowly,carefully, I attempt to extricate myself from the octopus-like tangle of limbs without disturbing them. I have to move slowly and like a gymnast move my body in order to finally stand up.

As I ease away and glance back, a smile tugs at my lips unbidden. Despite the suffocating warmth, there’s also an undeniable sense of comfort, even rightness, waking up ensconced by these incredible men. Protected. Cherished. Like I belong.

I tear my gaze away and slip silently out of the room, a mix of exhilaration and anxiety swirling inside me. The enormity of what’s developing between us, the intensity of my feelings, is both thrilling and terrifying.

Padding into the kitchen on bare feet, I retrieve a glass and fill it with cold water from the dispenser. The chill against my palm is a welcome shock to my overheated system. I gulp it down greedily, the icy liquid soothing my parched throat.

In the stillness of the house, I take a moment to just breathe. To exist in the quiet and let my racing thoughts settle. Moonlight filters in through the window, bathing everything in a luminous glow. The hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of crickets create a strangely peaceful ambiance.

I rest my elbows on the cool marble countertop and realize I’m smiling to myself like a fool in the dark. Whatever this is between Clay, Teller, Kip, and me - it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. Scary, in the best possible way. Like standing on the edge of a cliff, heart in your throat, and choosing to jump... trusting they’ll be there to catch you.

I almost laugh out loud, giddy and overwhelmed. What am I getting myself into? Can I really handle this - not just thephysical aspect, but the emotional intimacy? Baring my scarred soul and trusting them with the most vulnerable parts of myself?

But even as the doubts creep in, of maybe I’m in over my head, and I’m going to be left behind, I know deep down... I’m already in too deep to turn back now. Whatever the future holds, I’m all in. No regrets.

I turn around, glass in hand, ready to head back to bed - and nearly jump out of my skin. “Jesus!” I gasp, my heart leaping into my throat as I make out Clay’s silhouette in the doorway.

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