Page 77 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
“Good girl,” Ethan says in a rumbling voice.
“You feel so fucking good,” Liam growls.
He pumps in and out of me while Jake and Ethan kiss me and run their hands along my skin.
Suddenly, Liam pulls away and Jake guides me forward onto my hands and knees. As Jake slips inside me from behind, I take Liam into my mouth and suck him. Jake slams into me over and over again.
Ethan grabs my hand and wraps it around his shaft so I’m stroking him while the other two fill me. It’s overwhelming in the best way and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get enough of this.
As we go on like this, I lose all sense of time. The guys switch places, again and again, seeking their pleasure but showering me with my own—so much of my own that I’m soon lost in a whirlwind of sensation, friction, and the feel of strong hands moving my body into new positions.
I lose track of how many orgasms they give me, but soon I’m a boneless, panting mess.
One by one, the guys fill me, pouring themselves deep inside me. And when we finally collapse into the sheets, our limbs tangled, breath stilling into quiet patterns—I find my breath again.
I curl between them, Jake’s arm secure around my waist, Ethan’s chest at my back, the steady beat of his heart against my spine. Liam’s hand finds mine under the blankets, fingers lacing.
Safe.
Held.
Loved.
Mine.
And somehow,theirs.
Chapter thirty-one
LIAM
The room is quiet now.
Not the kind of silence that feels empty, but the kind that settles in after something real. Like the hush after a storm, when everything is still damp and raw and somehow more alive.
The fan hums softly overhead. Outside, the wind rustles through the trees, whispering against the windows.
But in here, it’s nothing but the quiet, rhythmic sound of our breathing. Our bodies—bare, tangled, spent—lie draped across the bed like we’ve been stitched together.
Maya’s curled between us, her head rising and falling on Ethan’s chest and one of her legs draped across mine.
Jake’s stretched out at the edge of the mattress, his arm thrown over his eyes like the world’s too much to process right now. Honestly, same.
The sheets are twisted and warm beneath us, the air thick with the smell of skin and lavender and something heavier, sweeter. The ghost of something sacred.
I don’t think any of us fully understand what just happened.
I don’t think we need to.
Maya shifts a little, and her fingers inch across the bed until they find mine beneath the blanket. It’s not urgent. It’s just… seeking.
Steady. Needing reassurance.
I curl my fingers around hers and squeeze gently. Just enough to sayI’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
The way she always seems to do for me without even trying.
Then she speaks, her voice small and hesitant, like she’s afraid saying it aloud might unravel whatever fragile magic we’ve built tonight.
