Page 81 of Four More The Merrier

Beau stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking like a proud papa. But his eyes—those normally warm, gentle eyes—are dark with desire. "You always surprise us," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving mine.

Austen's grip tightens on my hips as he thrusts up into me again. "Such a good girl," he growls softly.

His movements become more urgent beneath me, and I can feel him getting close. His breathing turns ragged as he grips my hips tighter. "Quinn... I'm gonna..."

"He's gonna come Quinn," Jarron grits out, my hand still working his dick.

"Do it," I whisper against his lips.

With a final thrust, Austen shudders beneath me, finding his release. He collapses back against the chair, panting heavily. "Damn," he breathes out. "That was... wow."

I beckon to Jarron, my voice a soft murmur. "Can't leave you the odd man out, can I?"

He grins, that trademark smirk lighting up his face. "I'd hope not."

Before I can react, he scoops me up effortlessly and tosses me onto the bed. The mattress dips under our combined weight as he leans over me, his breath hot against my ear.

"I'm gonna take it nice and slow," he whispers, his voice a low rumble. "Let you catch your breath, show you I can be the roses and chocolates kind of man too."

I shiver at his words, anticipation coursing through me. He positions himself between my legs, entering me with a languid ease that makes my toes curl. Our movements are slow, rhythmic, a perfect dance of give and take.

"Fuck," Lyle mutters from the side of the room. "That's hot, like some romantic shit."

His words are barely a blip on my radar as Jarron's eyes lock onto mine. There's something different in his gaze—a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. It's like he's letting me peek behind the curtain of his bravado, showing me the lost side of him that's looking for somewhere to call home.

For a moment, it's just him and me. The world fades away as we move together, our bodies perfectly in sync. The rhythm is hypnotic, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Jarron," I breathe out, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that's both tender and possessive. His tongue dances with mine, deepening the connection between us.

The bed creaks under our movements, but it feels like we're floating on air. Jarron's hands are everywhere—caressing my sides, tangling in my hair, tracing patterns on my skin that leave me breathless.

Our eyes never break contact, the intensity between us growing with each passing second. It's like he's searching for something in my gaze, something that will ground him in this moment.

"You're incredible," he murmurs against my lips.

I don't respond with words; instead, I arch into him, letting my body speak for me. The pleasure builds slowly but surely, every touch and kiss adding to the fire between us.

Lyle's groan from the side signals his release. "Damn," he mutters again. "Can't believe I'm seeing this."

But those words barely register as Jarron thrusts into me one last time, sending us both over the edge. His eyes remain locked on mine as we come together, our breaths mingling in the aftermath.

For a second longer, it's just us—no bandmates watching from the sidelines, no drama or complications—just two people finding solace in each other.

Jarron collapses beside me on the bed, pulling me close with a satisfied sigh. "Told you I'd show you another side," he says softly.

I smile against his chest, feeling more connected to him than ever before. Maybe this crazy arrangement can work after all.

The room falls into a gentle silence as we all catch our breath. My body feels like jelly, every muscle pleasantly exhausted. Jarron rolls off the bed and stretches, his movements languid and unhurried. He pulls on a pair of boxers and tosses similar garments to the other guys.

"You okay, Quinn?" Beau asks, concern etched in his eyes as he sits up, slipping into his boxers with ease.

"Yeah," I breathe out, managing a weak smile. "Just... really tired."

"Understandable," Lyle says with a grin as he pulls on his boxers. "You were amazing."

Austen chuckles, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "More than amazing."

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