Page 18 of Ours
"Holy shit," Cole finally managed, voice completely gone. "That was..."
"Yeah," Blake agreed, sounding just as wrecked.
Luca couldn't speak yet. Couldn't trust his voice not to reveal too much.
He'd just found everything he'd never known he was looking for.
Luca pulled them both closer, felt Blake do the same from the other side, and let himself believe for the first time in his life that maybe, just maybe, fate was real after all.
9
Three Months Later
Cole checkedthe clock on the nightstand for the third time in ten minutes. Five thirty. They'd be home soon.
The house felt different now that it was theirs—all three of theirs. His books lined the shelves next to Blake's nature guides and Luca's collection of crime novels. His coffee mug sat in the cabinet next to their matching set, chipped from when he'd dropped it last week and both wolves had nearly tripped over themselves trying to make sure he wasn't hurt. His clothes hung in their closet, taking up the space they'd cleared for him without him even asking.
Home. Three months ago, the word had been foreign, something other people had. Now it lived in his chest, warm and constant.
He'd learned their routines by heart. Blake always checked the perimeter before coming inside, methodical and thorough. Luca would head straight for the kitchen, grabbing a beer and callingout to see if Cole needed anything. They'd both seek him out within minutes, some invisible timer in their heads counting down until they could touch him, scent him, reassure themselves he was safe.
Cole smiled, stripping off his shirt and tossing it toward the hamper. It had taken him weeks to realize they weren't being clingy—they were being wolves. Pack. And he was theirs to protect, to care for, to love with an intensity that still sometimes took his breath away.
The black silk blindfold sat on the dresser where he'd left it this morning, and his pulse kicked up just looking at it. This game had started by accident two weeks ago when Blake had covered his eyes with his hands during a particularly intense moment, and Cole had nearly come apart from the sensation of not knowing which of them was touching him where.
"You like that, don't you?"Luca had growled afterward, voice rough with satisfaction."Not being able to see us, having to guess."
Cole had nodded, too wrecked to speak, and Blake had pressed a kiss to his temple."We'll have to remember that."
Now it was one of their favorite ways to play, this sweet torture of sensation without sight, of being completely at their mercy while they took him apart piece by piece.
He slipped out of his jeans and underwear, skin prickling with anticipation. The sound of tires on gravel made his heart race, and he quickly tied the blindfold around his eyes, adjusting it until the world went dark.
The bed dipped under his weight as he settled onto his knees in the center, hands resting on his thighs. He could hear cardoors slamming, the sound of their voices carrying through the evening air, and his body responded instantly. Three months of this, and he still reacted like a teenager every time they came home.
The front door opened and closed. Blake's voice, saying something about fixing the back fence tomorrow. Luca laughing at something, the sound carrying down the hallway.
Then footsteps. Two sets, moving through the house with purpose.
The bedroom door opened, and Cole's breath caught. He couldn't see them, but he could feel their presence, the way the air in the room shifted. The silence stretched, charged and electric, and Cole could picture them taking in the sight of him—naked, blindfolded, waiting.
"Well," Blake's voice, warm with amusement and desire. "Look what we have here."
"Someone's been thinking about us," Luca added, and Cole could hear the grin in his voice.
The bed shifted as one of them sat down—Blake, based on how carefully he moved. Hands settled on Cole's shoulders, thumbs brushing over his collarbones in a touch he'd recognize anywhere.
"Miss us?" Blake murmured, lips brushing Cole's ear.
"Always," Cole breathed, and felt Blake's quiet laugh against his skin.
Another pair of hands joined the first, rougher, more demanding. Luca. Cole melted between them, letting them position him however they wanted, trusting completely.
"So perfect," Luca growled, hands mapping Cole's chest like he was memorizing him all over again. "Always so ready for us."
They worked in the synchrony they'd perfected over months of learning each other. Luca’s fingers traced up Cole's inner thighs, feather-light touches that made him tremble. Cole knew those hands, recognized the patient way Luca built sensation layer by layer.
"That's Luca,” he whispered, and heard a low chuckle in response.
