Page 71 of Save Me
Each movement of Thayer’s fingers sends tremors through my entire body. I’m so full, stretched in a way that feels both devastating and divine.
Harry’s voice is low even as his hips work against my lips, his cock sliding over my tongue. “Let us take care of you, Vogue. You’re so good to us.”
The slickness on Thayer’s fingers ease the way as he presses one finger inside, then another, preparing me for Harry’s cock. This act—a deeper claim, an unspoken bond—twists a new knot of desire in my belly.
Callum watches from beneath me with hooded eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he growls, hands roaming over the curves of my body with proprietary hunger.
When Thayer feels I’m ready, he withdraws his fingers and shuffles away. Harry pulls his cock out of my mouth to move around. The heat of his cock against my back entrance sends jolts of nervous anticipation racing through me.
“Look at me,” Cal commands, and though his voice is soft, it’s an order I won’t defy. I lower my gaze to his as Harry begins topush slowly into my ass. Pain laces with pleasure as he stretches me, inch by agonising inch, but it’s a burn I’m eager to embrace. Callum’s touch is gentle on my face, his thumb brushing away a rogue tear that’s escaped.
“You okay?” he asks, and I nod, the intensity in his eyes nearly as overwhelming as the sensation of being filled by Harry.
“Perfect.”
The slight edge of discomfort begins to fade as my body adjusts to the intrusion. Harry moves gently at first, before he buries himself balls deep in my ass with a loud grunt.
Quen circles my clit with his fingers. The pleasure of it spirals through me, as I stare down into Cal’s eyes.
“You are gorgeous taking Harry’s cock in your ass, like a good girl,” he murmurs. “So fucking gorgeous.”
I’m awash in a sea of sensation—my body a nexus where their desires converge.
Quen leans forward to kiss me briefly. “Fuck, Vogue. You take us so well. You were made for us.”
Harry’s thrusts become more insistent, deeper, and I push back against him wanting more. The pain is just another layer now—a dark contrast heightening the pleasure that coils tighter in me.
Quen’s fingers are relentless on my clit; Harry’s pace drives air from my lungs with each thrust. Callum’s gaze burns into me, anchoring me in this moment where I’m consumed by them—owned by them in ways I never imagined possible.
Harry’s movements grow more urgent, desperate even. His grip on my hips is bruising, but it only adds to the sweet symphony of sensations that are pushing me toward another climax.
“Come for us,” Quentin’s voice is almost a whisper, a challenge that pierces through the fog of pleasure, and justlike that, I shatter into a million pieces, convulsing around his fingers.
Harry lets out a low growl and stiffens behind me, dumping his load into my ass before pulling out slowly. “Fuck, that was amazing,” he rasps.
I collapse onto Cal, my breathing erratic, the aftershocks of my orgasm still rippling through me. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s been liquefied; I’m a mess of sweat and cum.
Cal wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. The solidness of him is reassuring as I try to catch my breath.
“You did so good,” he murmurs into my hair, his lips pressing a kiss to my forehead. I can hear the pride in his voice that sends a warm thrill through me despite the exhaustion.
Thayer and Harry are close by, their hands stroking over whatever parts of me they can reach—shoulders, thighs, hair. It’s comforting and possessive all at once. They’re marking their territory even as they’re offering solace.
“We’ve got you,” Quen murmurs from right beside me, his hand sliding under my chin to tilt my face up for a soft kiss that feels like a promise.
“We always will,” Thayer adds.
I let out a contented sigh and settle into them, surrounded by the men who claim me as theirs in every way. But there’s more than pleasure here; there’s an unspoken vow woven between our tangled limbs and shared breaths—a bond formed not just from flesh but from the blood we’ve spilt and the battles we’ve faced together.
27
VOGUE
“Sleep now,”Cal murmurs to me as the guys shuffle about, getting me under the covers and comfortable.
“Mm,” I mumble, my eyes already closed as they pull back. The quietness of the door opening and closing as they leave me alone is a distant noise in my ears.
I’m drifting away, the edges of reality blurring as sleep beckons. But it’s a restless slumber; images of gun flashes and the sound of my father’s pained voice ricochet around in my head. I jerk awake with every muffled noise of a house in action, paranoia gripping my hazy brain like a vice.
