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Oliver exhales a shaky laugh. “True,” he agrees. “She’s far more frightening than any of the Callahans when she’s on a mission. I still think you’re underestimating how wild and unpredictable our lives can be.”
“And I think you’re underestimating how much I seem to enjoy danger and intrigue,” I tell him, stepping forward into his space. “Some part of me must be an absolute masochist because I can’t seem to get enough when you push me around and tell me what to do.”
I push him toward the coat closet behind us, grabbing the handle and yanking it open. “But you know what else I like?” I tell him as I shove him lightly inside. “I like knowing that no matter how big, bad, and scary the three of you think you are, you’re completely soft on the inside, just for me.”
The closet is dark inside, small, with just enough room for the two of us to stand inside together among the heavy coats and jackets.
Oliver smirks as I push him down onto the carpeted floor. “I’m going to show you just how unafraid of you I am,” I tell him, reaching for the zipper of his trousers. He makes no move to stop me, simply watching as I unzip him slowly and put my hand inside to grasp his quickly hardening length in my hand.
Pulling his cock out, I stroke a hand lightly over him, enjoying how soft he is, yet strong at the same time. Licking my lips, my fingers brush downward, slowly feeling over the shaft.
“What are you doing?” Oliver asks in a hushed tone, a groan at the edge of his voice. “This isn’t exactly the most private place.”
“I’m not worried about getting caught,” I tell him. “As long as you’re quiet.”
Oliver’s eyes flash, amusement and desire coursing through them in waves. “Get started then, baby girl,” he whispers.
With another flick of my wrist, I bend down and bring the tip to my mouth, kissing the head softly. He tastes salty and musky, and my mouth fills up with saliva, desire pooling inside me.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” Oliver whispers as I lick down his length, tasting every inch of him. His fingers tangle into my hair, gently holding onto me as I continue to taste him all the way down to the base.
“I want to make you feel good,” I whisper, kissing back up the shaft until I’m back to the tip, at which point I run my tongue over his slit and suckle the head into my mouth.
A soft curse falls from Oliver’s lips as I move down his length slowly, feeling him jump and pulse against my tongue. I love knowing how deeply I affect them, and how much they desire me.
Even when they were raging assholes, it was partially to cover up the insatiable lust I brought out of them. It’s empowering, in a way.
Mouth closing around his shaft, I swallow, working past my gag reflex as I take him into my throat. Humming tunelessly, my fingers move down to caress his downy-soft sacs, rolling them between my palms.
Oliver growls, his grip tightening on my hair. It sends little sparks of pleasure down my spine, and I moan, hollowing my cheeks to suck around him. He’s so big that my mouth is stretched, spit leaking from the corners of my lips.
“Fuck, just like that, dollface,” Oliver says, his head falling back as I tease and torment him with my tongue. Precum leaks from the tip, sliding down my throat in bitter, salty drips.
Starting to bob my head, I move it up and down as I suck, pressing my fingers into his hips as I work him over. Grunts escape him as I suck harder, moving my head faster.
“Damnit!” he curses, pulling me off him with a wild desperation. His hands lift me easily, and he drops me on his lap, hands plunging under my skirt and pulling my panties to the side so he can line himself up and push me down on his hard length, filling me up completely.
“Need to come inside you,” he breathes as he begins to rock his hips up into me, holding onto me tightly. Our bodies are pressed together in this small space, jackets swishing noisily above us as we move, frantic, furious, desperate for each other.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “Don’t stop!”
Oliver thrusts up again and again, clutching onto me like I’m a life raft and he’s drowning in the pleasure between us.
Our bodies begin to hit peak at the same time, mouths fusing together to stifle the sounds of our cries as we come apart in this tiny, dark space.
Hips stuttering to a stop, Oliver pushes deep inside me once, twice more, and then releases just as my body falls over the edge. We kiss for a long time, hips gently rocking together as we work through the tiny aftershocks, our frantic need slowing to a satiated contentedness.
Once we’re both utterly spent, Oliver holds me tightly to him, kissing the top of my head. I don’t know what the future will hold for us, whether there’s more danger coming around the corner, but right now, all I know is that I need these men like I need oxygen.
Not being around them has been hard not just on me, but on the baby as well. She starts moving now that we’re still, kicking her feet into me.
Oliver’s eyes widen as he realizes, going still, hand moving down to cup my belly.
“Is that her?” he asks, a note of awe in his voice.
“She’s getting bigger,” I tell him. “She’s started to really make herself known the last few days. I think she missed you guys.”
Oliver’s hands stroke over my belly, fingers dancing from side to side as they follow the movements of our daughter.
