Page 22 of Four Stepbrothers for Christmas

“Let’s start with something nice and relaxing,” he said.

As I settled onto the bench, Luke dropped gracefully to his knees in front of me. The significance of that act wasn't lost on me; this dominant man was putting himself in a vulnerable position for my pleasure. And when his mouth met the sensitive juncture of my thighs, I gasped, the world narrowing to the sensation of his tongue and the rhythm he set.

It didn’t take long for him to draw that keen edge of pleasure from me, his name slipping from my lips in a breathless exclamation. The intimacy of the moment, the overwhelming sensation, left me trembling. I came hard against his mouth, my body shaking as I slipped my fingers into his hair.

“See?” he asked when I was done, his mouth glistening with my arousal. “You had a little more in you after all.”

His hands, however, didn't stop their gentle ministrations. The tender care he took as he helped me wash my hair, massaging my scalp, the slow circles he made down my back, arms, and legs, washing away the fatigue and tension, was as intimate as any act we’d shared so far. My eyes drooped heavily, and I leaned into his touch, savoring every second.

Once we stepped out, a plush towel enveloped me, the softness against my skin a stark contrast to the wet slickness from before. Luke patted me dry with care, every touch underlining the depth of connection we'd shared.

In the soothing dimness of my bedroom, I rummaged through my dresser, pulling out a soft pair of pajamas. They whispered against my skin as I slipped into them, a comforting embrace.

With the night deepening outside, the silvery sheen of moonlight filtered through the curtains. Luke, now wrapped in a towel, approached the edge of the bed. Bending down, his lips met mine in a chaste kiss, a simple gesture that held a world of sentiment.

Before I could settle into the inviting embrace of sleep, the door to my room eased open. My heart rate quickened, but not in fear. In the doorway stood Vinnie and Archer, fully dressed, their expressions unreadable in the dim light.

The three of them together painted a picture of unity, brotherhood, and shared understanding. Luke, his hair damp and clad only in a towel, stood with them, a part of this mosaic of masculinity.

Silence settled in the room, the only sound our collected breaths. They didn't need words. Their mere presence was a testament to the connection we had built, the unspoken pact formed between us.

The residual intensity of the night continued to pulse within me, each man leaned down to place a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead. Those kisses were a silent symphony of gratitude, echoing with the beauty of vulnerability shared and boundaries surpassed.

My body, already settling into the comfort of my bed, yearned for the closeness that had become so integral to the evening. I wanted them near, their steady heartbeats, the warmth of their skin — a reminder that the magic we'd woven together was real.

“I wish one — or all of you — would stay,” I murmured, the words spilling out in a half-whisper, laced with a mixture of boldness and trepidation.

Archer chuckled softly, his lips curling in his signature smirk. “This is a California king, right? We should fit.”

With a grace that belied their stature, Vinnie and Archer slipped into the bed on either side of me, the sheets rustling softly in protest. The contrasting warmth from both sides enveloped me, one radiating steady strength, the other a fiery passion.

Luke, meanwhile, hesitated, giving us a quizzical look before disappearing, presumably to change. When he returned, the playful camaraderie between the brothers was palpable. Vinnie teased him, his voice dripping with mischief. “Looks like you missed your spot right here,” he tapped the mattress next to me, winking.

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the amused smile tugging at his lips. “Room on the other side?” he asked Archer, who simply scooted over with a shrug, making space. Luke's warmth soon joined the comforting cocoon the others provided.

In that dreamy haze of contentment, their steady breaths lulling me, my thoughts strangely drifted to the one face missing from this tableau. Isaac. His mysterious demeanor, the silent strength he exuded, the hints of depths unexplored — it all drew me in. Tonight would have been different with him, maybe even more profound. A pang of longing struck me, the wish that he too had been a part of this shared moment.

Chapter 14

Isaac

Thirty minutes earlier…

From the seclusion of the dimly lit room, I leaned against the glass, allowing the cold touch to counteract the fire coursing through my veins. Becca, stunning Becca, was out there, laughing, smiling, her skin glistening from the water of the hot tub. Every curve of her body told a tale of allure, and as the other guys surrounded her, basking in her magnetic pull, desire twisted inside me like a blade.

I had been in situations of temptation before, had faced down challenges that would break lesser men, but the sight of Becca draped in moonlight was almost enough to undo all my stoic resolve. I envisioned taking her by the hand, feeling her fingers intertwine with mine, guiding her gaze toward me, and stealing those pleasured moans for myself.

But I had my reasons. Reasons that weighed heavy, forming a barrier I wasn't sure I could, or should, ever cross. As head of the company, as the one who always needed to be on guard, I couldn’t afford the risk, not with her. She wasn't just another fling or a short-lived temptation; with Becca, the stakes were high. There was a fragility to my heart I hadn't admitted to anyone, a fear of being vulnerable, of being seen as less than the dominant, in-control boss they all knew. A fear of being hurt by someone as pure and genuine as her.

So I found solace in the shadows, away from the sensual noises and tantalizing visions. The intricate dance of pleasure playing out before my eyes was torturous, making me question every decision, every step I had taken to keep my distance. A gnawing sensation tugged at me, whispering what I was missing, what I could be a part of if I just let go of my inhibitions.

But I retreated, my feet leading me back deeper into the office. The comfort of the familiar greeted me: dark mahogany, the intoxicating scent of old books, and the gleaming bar counter. As I poured myself a glass of aged scotch, the amber liquid shimmered, promising a temporary reprieve from the turmoil inside. The first sip was a balm, smooth and fiery, setting my insides alight and numbing the edges of my longing.

The office was my sanctuary, a place where I could shed the facades and just be Isaac — not the boss, not the alpha, just a man with his thoughts and a drink in his hand. As I settled into the plush leather chair, the weight of the evening pressed down on me. I considered the reports, the figures, anything to detract from the image of her. Yet her laughter echoed, a siren song I couldn’t escape.

I knew sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. There was a battle raging within, between the man who wanted to claim, to taste, to touch, and the leader who knew the costs of indulgence. For now, duty won out.

As the minutes ticked by, the quiet hum of the computer was overshadowed by the sounds of muffled laughter and whispered conversations filtering in from the corridors. The soft creaking of floorboards, the rustle of fabric, the muted sound of footsteps—each was a vivid reminder of the scene that had unfolded outside, the scene I’d deliberately chosen to remove myself from. It was like salt on an open wound, one I hadn’t even acknowledged until now.

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