Page 162 of Better When Shared
They pushed into me simultaneously, and the sensation was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Brian's cock filled my ass with delicious stretch while Enzo's length slid deep into my pussy. I felt impossibly full, claimed in the most intimate way possible by these two men who'd become my entire world.
"Fuck," I cried out, my body shaking with the intensity of being taken by both of them. "I can't—it's too much—"
"You can," Brian said firmly, his hands steady on my hips. "You're perfect. Look at you, taking us both so beautifully."
They began to move, finding a rhythm that had them alternating thrusts. When Brian pulled back, Enzo pushed forward, creating a constant friction that had me gasping for air. The sensations were overwhelming—the stretch of Brian's cock in my ass, the familiar fullness of Enzo in my pussy, the way their movements created pressure against all my most sensitive spots.
"I love you," I sobbed, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "I love you both so much."
"We love you too," Enzo groaned, his rhythm faltering. "God, Gem, you feel incredible."
"Mine," Brian growled, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Both of you. You're mine."
"Yours," I agreed, my voice breaking as the pressure built inside me. "Always yours."
I could feel my orgasm approaching like a freight train, building from the dual stimulation and the emotional weight of their declarations. When it finally hit, it was with an intensity that made me scream, my body convulsing around both their cocks as pleasure crashed through me in waves. And the orgasmseemed to keep going, each wave hitting me harder than the last as they kept fucking me.
"Fuck, I can feel you coming," Brian groaned as the rhythm of his moments faltered, growing fast and frantic. "So tight, so perfect."
They came together, their release filling me as they collapsed against me, all three of us breathing hard. I'd never felt so claimed, so owned, so loved.
Epilogue
Enzo
Friday Harbor, Washington
A stereotypical Pacific Northwest coastline stretched in front of me, moody and gorgeous; jagged cliffs and emerald forests meeting the steel-gray waters of the Salish Sea. I guided my sleek drone through another sweeping arc, its camera capturing the transformed cannery complex that had become the newest jewel in the Bancroft-Bindery crown. It was a maze of weathered brick buildings and gleaming glass additions that somehow looked like they'd grown from the rocky shore rather than been built upon it.
Six months of working for the newly merged brand had given me access to equipment I'd only dreamed of before, and this particular drone was a fucking masterpiece—German engineering wrapped in carbon fiber that responded to my touch like it was reading my mind. The footage streaming back to my tablet showed me what Marco and Juniper had envisioned whenthey'd first seen this abandoned fruit canning facility: a seaside village where industrial history met boutique luxury, where guests could sleep in converted processing halls that still showed their original timber beams and brick walls.
"Christ, you're good at that," Caleb said from beside me, his voice carrying that familiar mix of admiration and slight envy that I'd grown accustomed to from other photographers. "I've been watching you work for twenty minutes, and I still can't figure out how you make it look so effortless."
I grinned, executing a particularly tricky maneuver that had the drone threading between two of the restored smokestacks before pulling up for a dramatic reveal of the main hotel building.
"Years of practice and a complete disregard for expensive equipment," I said, my fingers dancing across the controller with practiced precision.
"The insurance claims alone must have been astronomical," Caleb laughed, shaking his head. His blonde hair caught the afternoon light as he leaned closer to watch my tablet screen. "But seriously, this footage is incredible. Marco's going to lose his mind when he sees it."
I brought the drone in for a final pass over the property's crown jewel—a glass-walled restaurant built into what had once been the main processing floor, its soaring ceilings and exposed brick creating the kind of dramatic space that made food photographers weep with joy.
The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across tables where guests would soon be dining on locally sourced seafood while watching the sunset paint the Sound in shades of fire.
"How soon do you need the edited footage?" I asked, beginning the drone's descent toward the small landing pad we'd set up on the hotel's main deck. The machine settled onto the platform with the whisper-quiet precision that justified its six-figure price tag.
"No rush," Caleb said, his smile taking on that relaxed quality that seemed to infect everyone who spent time in the Pacific Northwest. "Tomorrow's Tristan's commitment ceremony. Time to celebrate my brother’s triad."
“I’m starting to think polyamory is a Bancroft trait.” I laughed as I powered down the drone and began the careful process of packing it away. "Maybe the next Bancroft-Bindery hotel should be one specifically designed for polycules," I said, my voice carrying the kind of contentment that would have been impossible six months ago.
Caleb laughed. “Tell that to my brother. Knowing Tristan, he’ll probably run with it. He’s so mad about Juniper and Marco that he’d do anything to celebrate what they have.”
I elbowed Caleb. "As if you don’t feel the same about Julian and Nisha. But seriously, it's nice to be around other triads. You guys get what we are and don't judge."
The words were barely out of my mouth when I heard Gemma's voice from the seaside path below us. "I love that idea," she called up, her tone carrying that executive enthusiasm that meant she was already mentally designing floor plans and calculating occupancy rates. "We could market it as the ultimate romantic getaway for modern relationships."
The Bancroft cousins’ non-traditional choices in partners had lost the Bancroft brand some loyal customers, but Gemma, as brilliant as she was, had proposed the merger and a focus on luring in a younger, more open-minded crowd. And as far as I could tell, things were going better than ever.
I turned to watch her climb the wooden steps that led from the beach to the hotel's main terrace. Brian was beside her with that careful, protective posture that meant he was making sure she didn't slip on the salt-weathered boards. They looked good together—her elegant confidence complementing his quiet strength.
