Page 90 of Heat Island
I swallow hard, my usual restraint slipping away like sand through my fingers. Emboldened by the heat of the moment, I turn my head just enough to meet his dark, intense gaze. “I’d like it even more if you and Kyren were kissing, too.” The words tumble out, daring and raw, a challenge I didn’t know I had in me.
Matheo’s body stiffens behind me, his grip on my hips tightening for a split second. He lets out a short, rough chuckle, his breath warm against my skin. There’s a hesitation in his tone, a crack in his usual steady demeanorthat piques my curiosity. “Trin, we don’t… I mean, Kyren and I aren’t like that.”
Kyren’s hand pauses on my thigh, and he quirks an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leans back slightly. His voice drips with mischief, green eyes glinting with a memory I’m suddenly desperate to uncover. “At least not since that one time junior year of college.”
My heart thuds hard in my chest, heat pooling low as I twist to look between them, caught in the electric tension of their shared past. “Show me.” My plea comes out softer than I intend, but it carries a hunger I can’t hide. “Please, I want to see.”
Kyren doesn’t hesitate. He rises up on his knees, his body pressing against my front, sandwiching me between the two of them. I’m trapped in the best way, their heat and scent enveloping me, making my head spin. Matheo’s chest rumbles with a reluctant sound, but he leans forward over my shoulder, meeting Kyren halfway.
Their lips crash together above me, a fierce, almost clumsy collision that betrays a history I can only imagine. The sight sets my nerves alight, every inch of me hyper-aware of their closeness.
I feel them both harden against me, Matheo’s length pressing into my lower back, insistent and hot, while Kyren’s arousal nudges against my stomach, a stark reminder of how much this moment affects them, too.
My breath comes in shallow gasps, trapped between their bodies, their kiss deepening with a raw edge that makes my thighs clench. The air grows thick, heavy with unspoken desires, and I’m caught in the center of it, yearning for more, for everything they’re willing to give.
Matheo pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against my ear again as he murmurs, “Is this what you wanted?”
I only nod, overwhelmed, as Kyren’s hand slides higher up my thigh, his fingers teasing closer to where I ache most. I’m lost in the storm of them, and I don’t want to find my way out.
Matheo’s hands are firm on my hips, guiding me up higher on my knees. My breath catches as he positions himself behind me, the heat of him pressing against my entrance before he slides in with a slow, deliberate thrust.
A sharp gasp escapes my lips, my body stretching to accommodate him, every nerve singing with the intensity of it. He moves slowly, each roll of his hips steady and deep, rocking me forward until my face hovers just above Kyren’s lap.
My hands tremble as I reach for the waistband of Kyren’s pajama pants, fingers fumbling with the fabric. I tug them down, freeing him, and my eyes widen at the sight of his arousal, already hard, the knot at the base already starting to swell.
I lean in, taking him into my mouth, and nearly choke at the sheer size and firmness of him. My lips stretch tight around him, and I struggle to adjust, my throat tight with the effort.
Cash kneels beside me, his presence a quiet anchor amid the storm of sensation. His voice cuts through the haze, low and measured. “Have you ever taken a knot down your throat, Trin?”
I shake my head, the movement awkward with Kyren still filling my mouth. My chest heaves as I draw in air through my nose, focusing on the rhythm Matheo sets behind me.
“Relax your jaw,” Cash instructs, his tone calm but carrying an edge of authority. “Breathe through it. Let yourthroat open up slowly. You don’t have to take it all at once—just ease into it.”
Kyren’s cock slides further down my throat, his knot swelling my cheeks as I fight not to choke on it.
Cash whispers encouragement, guiding me when to take Kyren deeper and when to pull back. I follow his guidance, loosening my grip on control, letting my body soften even as Matheo’s thrusts grow more urgent.
Matheo’s grip tightens on my hips, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he surges forward one last time, spilling inside me with a shudder that ripples through us both. The warmth of him floods me, and I moan around Kyren, the vibration pulling a sharp hiss from him.
Then there’s a new sensation—wet and warm against my most sensitive skin. I turn my head just enough to catch a glimpse of Lucas, his blond hair a mess as he kneels between my thighs, his tongue lapping at the combined essence of me and Matheo leaking out.
The sight sends a jolt straight through me, raw and primal, and my body clenches instinctively. Kyren’s hands tighten in my hair, his fingers threading through the strands as his breath hitches. He’s watching, too, and the knowledge of his gaze on us pushes me closer to the edge.
Lucas’s mouth works with a gentle insistence, tongue tracing paths that make my toes curl into the sheets. The pleasure builds fast, a tight coil in my core, and I shatter under his touch, a muffled cry vibrating around Kyren as waves of release crash over me.
At the same moment, Kyren tenses, a guttural sound tearing from him as he spills down my throat, hot and overwhelming. I struggle to swallow, the sheer volume and the swelling knot threatening to lock behind my teeth.
Cash’s hands are on me in an instant, firmand steady, pulling me back just enough to ease Kyren out before I really do choke. My chest heaves as I gasp for air, lips swollen and slick, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. I’m caught between them, Matheo’s warmth still lingering inside me, Lucas’s breath hot against my thigh, Kyren’s taste on my tongue, and Cash’s quiet strength beside me. For a moment, everything stills, the room filled only with the sound of our ragged breathing.
THIRTY-THREE
TRINITY
I stepinto the ballroom for the rehearsal dinner and pause just inside the entrance, letting myself absorb the transformation. The space glows with warm amber lighting, casting everything in a romantic haze. White orchids and pale violet lilies cascade from tall glass vases at each table, interspersed with the tropical blooms Lucas and I selected at the market. Delicate fairy lights wind through the arrangements, creating pools of soft light that dance across the linens.
Pride swells in my chest as I take in the details—the way the centerpieces complement the ocean view through the floor-to-ceiling windows, how the seating arrangement flows naturally to encourage conversation, the subtle tropical touches that honor the location without overwhelming Josie’s desire for classical elegance. Three guests have already asked me for business cards, requesting details about my availability for their events.
For the first time this week, I feel fully like myself again. The successful event planner who built her business from nothing, who can transform any space into somethingmagical. Behind me, I sense rather than see my pack—Matheo’s steady presence, Cash’s quiet confidence, Lucas’s warm energy, and even Kyren’s electric intensity. The knowledge that they’re here, supporting me, adds another layer to my satisfaction.
