I Will Revel in Glory

by Stunich, C. M.

  He works that single finger in and out, the slick sound of my flesh echoing in the suddenly quiet room. There’s the fire’s heated breath battering against the glass of the decorative screen. There’s the sound of the whiskey burbling as Grainger lifts it to his wicked mouth, his eyes still locked on mine.

  I keep watching him as Beast inserts a second finger, and a moan escapes my lips. I should probably shower some of this blood off before fucking, but … I’m not going to. I don’t want to wait. Besides, what did Giulia say? She and Cosimo liked to … well, if she can get off on horrible things, so can I.

  I did it, Posey. I got them for you. I got them.

  If vengeance is wrong, then why does it taste so damn sweet? Why does it make me want more? I’ve done a good thing tonight. Two people who wrought nothing but destruction and pain in their wake are gone; they can’t hurt anyone else.

  Tell me that’s a sin. I’ll wait.

  My hands curl against the rounded arm of the couch as Beast works me up enough that I’m sweaty and hot and pulsing around his fingers. The motorcycle boots I’m wearing give me some extra height, but I bet Beast could fuck my feet right off the floor when he drives into me …

  When he removes his hand, I let out a small sound of frustration that’s very quickly replaced with a gasp as the head of his huge cock presses against my entrance. It’s hard to believe he’s ever fit inside of me, let alone that first night. The third guy, the third time, that I ever had sex, and I was able to take him.

  Like a screwed-up, carnal version of fate.

  My husband presses himself against me, parting my wet folds and stretching my tight channel with a slow forward movement of his hips. My breath comes in harsh, desperate pants, but I never look away from Cade Grainger.

  We stare at each other, and he ends up frozen with the bottle halfway to his lips. Sin is just behind him, still leaning against the wall. I’m not really looking at him, but I can feel the tension in him, the anger. I want it. I want it unleashed on me.

  And Crown?

  He moves closer, like he’s being drawn to us, sitting down on the coffee table, close enough to touch.

  Beast buries himself balls-deep, nearly hitting the end of me, and I bite my lip hard enough to make it bleed. My husband has a big cock, no doubts about that. For a moment, he just places his warm hands on my ass and waits for me to adjust to his girth, his length.

  And then he starts to fuck. Nice and slow, all the way in and all the way out. Just as I predicted, when he slams into me, his pelvis against my ass, my feet nearly come up off the ground. I’m off-balance, draped over the sofa arm, still staring at Cade motherfucking Grainger.

  Without taking a drink, he finally drops the liquor bottle by his side.

  “Fuck,” he says again, and then he passes it over to Sin. Unlike Cade, my youngest lover lifts the bottle up and drinks several shots worth in one go, the inked column of his throat moving as he swallows. Grainger uses his now free hands to open his jeans, taking a seat in the leather chair nearest him so that he can spit into his palm and then fist his cock with a tight grip.

  He starts to jack himself off while my husband stretches me wide, sliding in and out of my eager body with little resistance. I warm up to him quickly, sounds of sinful pleasure tumbling past my lips as I arch my back to encourage Beast to move deeper, harder, faster.

  Crown stays where he is, completely still, watching from his spot on the coffee table. There’s a glint in his gaze that says he wants to punish me later for my antics tonight—both carnal and violent—but also that maybe he doesn’t hate this as much as he thought he would.

  The sound of Grainger working his cock makes me even wetter, even hornier than I was before. I didn’t even think that was possible. Beast reaches out and grabs a handful of my leather jacket—his leather jacket—fingers digging into the eclipsed sun on the back for leverage as he pounds into me.

  “You’re a good wife, Gidge,” he murmurs, his accent thickening as his pleasure heightens. “Wild in and out of the bedroom.”

  Beast lets himself go then, no longer worried about hurting me. He keeps his hold on the jacket and uses his other hand to grip my hip, slamming our bodies together over and over until I feel his muscles tightening, and a low, feral groan escapes his lips. He fills me with hot throbs of his thick cock, but I guess we don’t have to worry about that for right now.

  With a grateful sigh, Beast slaps my ass and then caresses the still stinging spot before he pulls out of me, and I can hear him fixing his jeans. I stay where I am while he moves over to Sin and steals the whiskey bottle.

  My attention is still primarily fixed on Grainger, and he doesn’t disappoint, rising out of the chair with his erection still held in his inked hand. He jerks himself a few more times and moves over to stand in front of me, looking down like he can’t decide if he wants my mouth, my ass, or my cunt.

  “I’ll admit: you’re made of even tougher stuff than I thought,” he says with a cocky laugh, the slightest edge to the sound that tells me he isn’t going to wait much longer.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, and Grainger pauses, still holding his erection and looking down at me with brown eyes that are surprisingly soulful, considering what a dickhead he normally is.

  “It is,” he promises, and then he smirks at me. “You delivered a huge boon to the club tonight. As the sergeant-at-arms, I’d like to personally thank you for your service.” Grainger moves around behind me, and I close my eyes as his hands caress my ass cheeks. He murmurs his approval. “Mm-mm-mm, Gidge. I approve. Look at that pretty pussy, throbbing and dripping.” He teases me by cupping my cunt with his hand and sighing with a deep sort of longing that makes my bones hurt. He’s wanted this for a long time, Cade Grainger has.

  And so have I.

  “Are you going to talk about it or are you going to fuck me?” I challenge, wiggling against his hand and making him curse again. He’s a master at it, Cade is. I thought I was the queen of fuck and shit and damn, but he puts me to shame. He could teach master classes in ways to make a sailor blush.

  “Another man’s cum dripping out of you, and you still want it. I should’ve figured as much.” He strokes me with his thumb, dragging the natural lube from me and Beast up to rub against the heat of my ass. He doesn’t enter me, just strokes me there, making me tremble and choke on my own breath.

  I’m so fired up right now, I could scream.

  “You couldn’t handle all of me, Cade,” I growl at him, and he laughs. Then he pushes his finger into my ass, and I groan. It’s hard to exchange quips when I’m this wound up. “You’d never be able to keep up.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that just yet, sweetheart,” he purrs, working his thumb in and out of my rear entrance as I open my eyes to find Crown still watching me. He’s absently stroking his own thumb along the seam of his denim, but he doesn’t free his cock the way Cade did.

  Grainger lines himself up with my throbbing pussy and enters me without warning, all the way, his body slamming into mine as he finally withdraws his thumb. He takes hold of my hair and lifts my head up, making me grit my teeth.

  “You fucker,” I grind out, but I like it, too, so I let him do it. He leans down, putting his mouth near my ear. His tongue dances along the shell of it, and I make a sound that I would never admit to making during daylight hours, when there isn’t a fire burning, or blood drying on my skin, or sharp pain in my hip from where Grainger’s gripping me too tight. Rain patters down on the roof outside, and lightning flashes outside the window.

  I bet this night starts even more fires.

  “I love fucking you, knowing that my seed’s already taken root.” He purrs, laughing again. I hope that it isn’t his baby, just so I can make fun of him later for being such an arrogant prick. Grainger stands back up, still holding onto my hair, and then starts to move his hips. He’s skilled at it, too, so skilled that I writhe in jealousy, trying my best not to think about him with another woman.<
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  He seems to pick up on that, and I swear, I can just feel that annoying overconfidence of his oozing out to coat my sweaty skin.

  I shouldn’t let him do this; I should make him rest. I should ride him, at the very least.

  I like it too much to be rational, unfortunately.

  Cade works himself in and out of me as I grind my clit against the couch arm, feeling the initial heat of a climax in my core. I don’t want it to come too quickly, so I hold back, stopping that frantic grinding as Grainger readjusts his hand, sliding it up and under my shirt so that he can wrench the cups of my bra down. He frees my tits, making them swing with each one of his thrusts. He kneads them, too, greedily, obsessively, like they belong to him and him alone.

  I’m forced to keep my back arched, to make sure that Cade has access to my breasts, to my suddenly painful nipples. He ignores them though, more concerned with the round globes in his palm than the pert pink points.

  His balls slap against me as he ruts hard and fast, adjusting the tilt of my hips so that his movements stimulate my clit. Shit. I don’t want to come for this asshole, but he’s pushing me hard. And then, as if he’s been waiting for just the right moment, he tweaks my nipple and pleasure arcs through me like a sword, nearly severing my brain from the rest of my body.

  I’m mindless, pushing back against him, searching for release.

  Grainger pulls out suddenly, and then he’s shooting ropes of white seed onto my ass.

  “Love ya, Gidge,” he says, and even though he’s trying to be a prick, he also means what he says. He slips out of his vest and shirt as I push myself up onto my palms, glancing back to see what he’s doing. He wipes me down, cleaning me up fairly well before he moves away and chucks the dirty items in his bedroom hamper.

  He comes back fairly quickly and notices that Sin has emptied the whiskey bottle.

  “Shit, you really hate this, don’t you?” he asks with a laugh, accepting a fresh bottle from Beast instead. I was so into Grainger that I didn’t even see him grab it. Gross.

  “And you love it, don’t you?” Sin grinds out, his agitation palpable. I never really expected it, that he’d be the one who had the hardest time sharing. He’s more dominant than I thought.

  I look up and meet Crown’s eyes, but he’s already rising to his feet and taking off his belt. He must sense that Sin is nowhere near ready for this. I just hope that he can get there—and quick. I want him tonight. I want to complete this circle.

  “Were you worried about me tonight, Mr. VP?” I query and Crown gives me a very harsh look.

  “Gidget, I thought you were going to die.” He moves over to me and takes my face in his hands, the first of the men to kiss me that night. His mouth is such a beautiful sin that I sigh against it, leaving my palms braced on the arm of the couch as his tongue slides against mine. Instead of surrendering to it, I fight him for control of the kiss, and he laughs. I love the way that sound feathers against my mouth. I could drink it in; I could consume it. “You like that though, don’t you? Making me worry.”

  “I like seeing proof of your feelings,” I admit, closing my eyes and tasting a bit of whiskey on my lips from our kiss. “We’ve been through so much. It’s been years of push and pull, and I’m ready to be done with it. I just want to know that you’re here for me. That even if you can’t marry me on paper, that you’ll marry me anyway.”

  Crown gives a slight downturn of his lips, but not in anger or frustration, more like in contemplation. He reaches down and flicks the button on his jeans, and I watch as he frees his cock from his boxers. He isn’t like a lot of men. He doesn’t have a particular type of underwear that he likes. He seems to mix it up. Sometimes, he doesn’t wear any at all.

  It’s an interesting, unpredictable streak inside of Crown’s comforting reliability.

  “If I weren’t such a gentleman,” he starts, and I laugh. I laugh with my leather pants shoved down my hips and my bare cunt exposed, my lips glossy from kissing Crown. He narrows his green eyes on me, and I smirk at him, lifting both brows as if to ask really, though? “I’d give you the ring now. Instead, I’m more likely to take you to dinner and get down on one knee.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I warn him as he brushes his knuckles along my jaw and moves around to stand behind me. Crown pushes his hard, warm shaft against my folds, the head of his dick pearly with pre-ejac as he rubs that slickness against my clit.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he decides finally, and I look over to see that Beast is watching him from sapphire eyes. They darken when the mood is dangerous like it is now, the very air sparkling with dark glitter and sensuality. My husband doesn’t move from his location, leaning against the wall beside Sin. “Yeah, I think that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Screw you,” I hiss, and then I angle my hips and push back, impaling myself on Crown’s dick. He lets out a sharp, almost surprised breath and then grabs at me, forcing me to hold still for a moment.

  “I’m taking you out and getting on one knee, Gidge. What will you say then? We both know it’ll be a resounding yes.” He relaxes his grip slightly, and then smooths his palm up my side and over my rib cage. “You want to do the work? Be my guest.”

  If Crown thinks that’s a challenge, then he’s picked the wrong girl.

  I brace my hands against the couch and then push back, working my hips with this back-and-forth motion, like all I need is Crown’s dick to get off and the rest of him is irrelevant. But even after issuing that decree, he can’t quite give up control of the situation just yet.

  Instead, he starts to move in time with me, so that when I push back, he’s pushing forward, and we’re coming together with friction and heat and so many sounds that I can barely tell which ones are mine and which are his.

  “Be a good girl for me,” he murmurs, feeling up my body in that worshipful way of his, like he’s memorizing every single curve and contour of my skin. Everything’s a turn-on for Crown. I can feel it in the way he palms my belly, the way he swipes my hair off the back of my neck and traces a finger down my spine while he thrusts into me.

  We work well together, me and him, like partners. Like a king and queen.

  Oh yes. I like that.

  Crown and I are king and queen.

  Beast and I are husband and wife.

  Grainger and I are partners in crime.

  Sin and I are fated mates.

  I groan, the beginnings of a climax tightening my lower belly muscles, my cunt clamping down so hard around Crown’s dick that he curses and ends up rocking himself toward his orgasm since he can’t move in and out of me anymore.

  He comes hard, grinding against me with frantic finishes of his hips, and then he leans over me, caging me in with his arms. I can see the police car tattoo from here, and I thrill in the idea that I know a secret that could get Crown killed. When he told me that, he was giving up the last of himself to me, the final piece.

  It’s over.

  It’s all over.

  I’ve got him. I’ve got Grainger. I’ve got Beast.

  I thought I had Sin.

  He was the first to fully relinquish his heart and trust to me, to accept that if we were going to be together, we wouldn’t be the only players in the game. But now? Flicking my gaze toward him as my body pulses with fervent need, I can see that he’s staring at me, that he’s angry, that his silver eyes are so dark they look black.

  He pushes up from the wall as Crown withdraws, leaving me empty and wanting.

  “I need to come so bad,” I murmur, attempting to slide a hand between my legs. Before I can touch my clit, I feel a vise-like grip curl around my wrist. Sin’s fingers scald as I flick my gaze to his face, finding him panting and hard and angry.

  I thought he was going to bolt tonight, to be honest. Like he couldn’t handle seeing me put myself in dangerous situations—at the casino or with these other men. Instead, he’s looking at me like he plans to claim me, right here and now.

  “I’ll
do it.” Sin hauls me up to a standing position and moves around behind me, reaching between my legs and putting his chin on my shoulder. He licks up the length of my rapidly beating pulse as he uses the easily accessible lube between my thighs to make the hardened nub of my clitoris nice and slippery. “What did I tell you?”

  “That you’re addicted to making women come?” I murmur back, moaning and letting my head fall back against his sturdy frame.

  “Not women anymore—just you.” Sin finds this perfect, magical spot on the upper right part of my clit, and I choke, my knees buckling so suddenly that if he hadn’t wrapped his arm around my waist, I would’ve collapsed to the floor. “Tell me where you want it, what you like.”

  “Stay right there,” I murmur, panting as I reach down and press his fingers to my happy spot. “Just like that, oh God, Colton.” I struggle to control my oncoming orgasm, trying to make this last as long as possible, enjoying that spicy cinnamon, cloves, and leather smell that permeates everything Sin owns. It mixes with the musk of sex, the mild smokiness from the fire, and the underlying notes of violet-scented cleaner that Crown likes to use on everything.

  I let my eyes sweep the room, finding Crown seated on his sofa with his cock tucked neatly away, arms spread out across the cushions on either side of him. His eyes are closed as he relaxes back into the brown leather. Grainger sits on the edge of the armchair, a cigarette unlit and dangling from his mouth, like he wants to go outside and smoke it but can’t bear to leave yet.

  And my husband? My magnanimous, murderous, beautiful husband, he watches over everything like he’s the lord of the castle instead of Crown. I know when I look at him that he was the only one strong enough to make this all work, to hold our ragtag, fucked-up, little group together rather than tear it apart.

  Only him. Just him.

  Our eyes meet just as my orgasm hits, and even though I’m coming apart and shuddering, gasping and quivering in another man’s arms, I can feel Beast’s heart as if it’s beating right up against mine.