Page 74 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

“Me three,” Owen chimes in.

My fingers trail over her lips as our eyes lock, the connection between us undeniable. The moments since our confession of love hang in the air, charging every touch with new meaning. I trace the soft fullness of her mouth, feeling her breath quicken against my skin.

“I’ve thought about this every night since you left,” I whisper, my voice rough with desire.

Her eyes, those mesmerizing emerald pools, seem to darken as she parts her lips. I slip my fingers inside the warm wetness of her mouth, groaning as she begins to suck them gently. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure straight to my cock.

Owen moves behind her, his hands sliding around to caress her collarbone before dipping beneath her top. I watch her eyelids flutter as his fingers find her breasts, cupping and teasing with the practiced touch that comes from knowing exactly what she likes.

“We’ve missed the way you respond to us,” Owen murmurs against her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “The little sounds you make when we touch you just right.”

Emerson arches into his touch, her tongue swirling around my fingers in a way that makes my dick throb painfully against my jeans. I can’t wait another second. I withdraw my fingers, leaving a glistening trail along her bottom lip as I reach for my belt.

The metallic sound of my buckle seems to echo in the room. Her eyes follow my movements hungrily as I free myself from the confines of my clothing, my erection springing forth, hard and ready.

“I need to feel you,” she breathes, reaching for me with one hand while her other seeks out Brock.

My oldest brother kneels beside her, his eyes never leaving her face as he begins to undress her with a reverence that belies his usual businesslike demeanor. Each inch of skin he reveals is like unwrapping a gift we’ve all been longing to possess again.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” Brock murmurs, his hands tracing the curve of her hip, the swell of her slightly rounded belly where our child grows.

The sight of her—fully naked now, sprawled against the sofa cushions, her hair fanned out like a fiery halo—takes my breath away.

I lean forward, unable to resist capturing her lips with mine. The kiss is deep and consuming. I pour every ounce of longing, every moment of emptiness I felt in her absence into that kiss.

Below us, Brock settles between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them wider as he lowers his mouth to her center. The first touch of his tongue against her most intimate place makes her gasp into my mouth, her body tensing then melting as he begins to work her with slow, deliberate strokes.

Her thighs clench around his head, her back arching off the sofa. “Oh God,” she cries out, breaking our kiss. “I’ve missed this so much.”

Owen circles around to the side of the couch, shedding his remaining clothes as he moves. His expression is one of adoration as he takes in the sight of us together.

“We’re never letting you go again,” he promises, his voice thick with arousal.

I position myself near her head, my cock aching for the warmth of her mouth.

As if reading my thoughts, she reaches for me eagerly, drawing me toward her parted lips. The first touch of her tongue nearly undoes me.

Her other hand reaches blindly for Owen, finding his hard length and wrapping her fingers around him. The synchronicity of our movements—Brock’s tongue working her below, her mouth engulfing me while she strokes Owen—creates a primal rhythm of raw, uninhibited pleasure.

I feel myself swelling inside the wet heat of her mouth, my control slipping as she takes me deeper. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch her body respond to Brock’s skilled mouth, her hips rolling against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction.

A deep, vibrating moan escapes her, the sound reverberating around my cock.

“I think she’s coming, Brock,” I groan, feeling my own orgasm building at the base of my spine. The sight of her pleasure is almost too much to bear.

Abruptly, I withdraw from her mouth, needing a moment to regain control. Brock lifts his head, his lips glistening with her essence, his eyes dark with desire. Without words, we communicate our next move.

Working together as only triplets can, we reposition her—turning her over, arranging her limbs, preparing her for more pleasure. Owen steps forward, his cock jutting proudly as he moves behind her.

I slide beneath her, positioning myself so her breasts hang tantalizingly close to my mouth. I capture one taut nipple between my lips, sucking gently as Owen pushes into her pussy from behind. Her cry of pleasure is muffled as Brock slides his shaft between her parted lips.

The sight of her—filled completely, connected to all three of us—is the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed. My fingers find their way to the place where she and Owen join, feeling the slickness there, circling the swollen bud of her clit.

“Come for us again, Emmy,” I urge her, applying more pressure. “Let us feel you.”

“Oh fuck yes,” she purrs against Brock’s cock, her entire body trembling with an approaching release.

Brock’s head falls back, his jaw clenching. “I’m coming too,” he grunts, his hips stuttering against her face.

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