Page 150 of Piece Us Together

I shake my head. He wouldn't understand. It's too big to even put into words. I take a drink instead. He seems happy with that, which is good. I like making him happy.

He keeps asking me to drink and take bites of food and he keeps being happy every time I do. It's the easiest thing.Why haven't we been doing this all along? We're both so happy.

“Nol?” I manage to ask once the drinking and eating is done. I want Nolan to be happy too. I can't see his face or hear him, so how do I know if he's happy?

“Shh. He's asleep.” Hunter reaches over and adjusts the blanket that must have fallen off of Nolan's shoulders. Nolan shifts a little against me before settling back down with a soft exhale. “You took a while to come around. He tried staying awake for you, but we weren't sure if you'd wake up at all. Somesubs don't wake after an intense scene. They just crash and sleep right through all the clean-up.”

“I'm sorry…” I mumble, something weird and cold growing inside of me.

Was this not good after all? Did I mess up? Is the soft layer not supposed to be there for so long? Was I supposed to fight harder?

“Hey, none of that. I'm glad you went so far under. I think you needed it.” I nod, that bad feeling going away as quickly as it came. Ididneed it. If he's glad, that's even better. It's perfect. “Do you need anything else? The bathroom or anything?”

I shake my head. My eyes are heavy again. I try to fight to keep them open. “Need nothing.”

“Okay. And you're alright? How do you feel, sweetheart?”

I let my eyes close, sinking back under that soft layer of protection. It was submission, all along - the layer, I mean. It wasHunter, all along. Hunter and his love for me. His control of me. His care for me.

Howawesome.

How fuckingperfect.

How do I feel?That's easy. “Free.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hunter

I should have known better. I really should have.

It was good for a day. Then another. Then another. Then one more.

They’d barely left my house, only doing so once when Nolan’s friends, Bryce and Matt, warned them that people were getting suspicious of their whereabouts. They’d shown their faces for a night, basically acknowledging the fact that they’re up to something but asking for privacy that their friends grudgingly agreed to provide. They’d hated their night there, barely sleeping, calling me at four in the morning to ask if it was too early to come over. I’d been awake too, desperate to get them back. I’d told them to drive safely. To let themselves in. They’d greeted me in my warm bed, already naked before they reached my bedroom door. They’d kissed me all over, desperate for every inch, and I’d felt like a livewire.

Nolan had begged to suck my cock.

Maison had argued that he better fucking share.

I’d spilled between their kissing lips, all over noses and foreheads and my own stomach. They’d licked each other clean. Then me. They were half-hard when they curled back up against my chest like they hadn’t just sort of shattered me to pieces. They didn’t want to take care of themselves, didn’t want to have to move away from me, each of their faces buried in one side of my neck, arms and legs slung over me. It didn’t matter then, that they’d shattered me to pieces. They were already putting me back together.

Finally, we watchedThe Winter Soldier.Nolan had been horny enough not to see right through my false shock at Bucky’s continued existence. Maison and I had fucked him until he was nearly incoherent after, teasing that maybe we’d get ourselves some Winter Soldier costumes someday. I’d asked which he wanted more—me taking him and Maison apart while dressed as the Winter Soldier, or him watching me take Maison apart while Maison was dressed as the Winter Soldier. The poor boy had been a whimpering mess, unable to decide. I had winked at Maison when I said we could probably do both. Maison had moaned and started begging to come right then.

We learn things about each other.

I learn that Maison is very into begging. He wants to be desperate, wants to plead. Not even for just his orgasm, but for any of it. To be able to be inside Nolan. To be able to kiss us. To be touched by us. He wants to beg until he’s nearly sobbing. I haven’t pushed him hard enough for the sobs to start, but I plan to soon.

I learn that Nolan likes to be full even more than I originally thought. He wants our fingers, our cocks, our toys. He gets anxious without something inside him. He admits that he was ignoring that feeling whenever they were home together, but that it was harder to ignore at my house, knowing I’d give him what he needed if only he asked. He asked. We delivered, doingeverything we could to keep him full at all times. I whispered in Maison’s ear while Nolan fell asleep on my chest one night, telling him I think I might install dildos all over the house—on a dining chair, on the floor of the living room, on the goddamn shower wall. Making our boy sit still sometimes, all stuffed full, while other times making him ride them and give us a pretty show. Nolan had been awake enough to whimper and shiver and whisper, “Please?”

I learn that the two of them love to kiss and cuddle each other, but what they really love is doing those things to me as a pair. They hold hands as they use their free ones to explore wherever I allow them to touch. They each take a nipple in their mouths before working their way to meet at my sternum, tongues greedily meeting for a brief moment before returning to taste my skin. They like to each ride one of my thighs, grinding as they whisper admissions of love and want and need.

I learn that I love them even more than I originally thought. I love when Maison gets a little hangry around noon and gets all grumbly until he’s fed. I love when Nolan warms my cock and drifts with his eyes half-closed and his body relaxed. I love when they get into a giggly mood together, poking and teasing, almost always ending with laughter-soaked kisses. I love that Nolan makes a fucking mess in the kitchen when he’s given free rein, and that Maison follows behind him with amusement trying to keep the chaos under control, only to end up contributing to the mess while stealing bits of food that get him hard looks and hand smacks. I love that they start to include me in things, explaining inside jokes, telling me about their friends, sharing little memories.

Almost a week after things had changed, I learn that I should have known better.

It’s a phone call.

One minute the three of us are asleep, Maison’s hand curled around my side from where he has his arm slung over Nolan’s waist, Nolan’s face tucked against my neck. The next, a phone is ringing. It’s loud. So loud it must be on purpose.

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