Page 29 of Triplets for the Rival MC

“Fuck, I’m close, too,” Hunter growls, fucking me harder.

“Yes,” I moan, the words muffled by Flint’s cock.

We cum within seconds of each other. My pussy gushes, juices squirt out of me as Hunter fucks me so fast, and Cyrus’s tongue vibrates against my clit. Hunter reaches his climax, pumping deep inside me as Flint does too, the taste of his sweet yet salty seed dripping down my throat.

We come apart carefully, the guys treating me with such care and delicacy compared to the rough sex we just shared. We lie down, satiated, and Flint pulls me close to his chest. We don’t speak for a moment, just lie there in amicable silence, all too blissed out, panting and sweaty.

“Are you okay?” Flint asks.

“I’m more than okay,” I reply lazily, moving to kiss each of them. “That was perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” Cyrus says with such conviction I almost believe him.

“Our perfect woman, made for us,” Hunter agrees.

“Ours,” Flint says, the one word carrying so much weight.

We don’t need to say more. It’s clear after that there’s no going back. We’re in this together, all four of us are in a relationship. I am theirs, and they are mine.

I want to tell them that I’m falling for them, that I think I’m in love with them all, but I don’t want to risk spoiling the moment if it’s too soon for them to feel the same way.

For now, I’m happy with what we have. This is enough.

I am enough.

Chapter 17

Tori

The last few weeks have blown by in a blissful bubble. Although we’ve all been busy with work, we still find time to have fun together, both in and out of the bedroom. The guys, acting on my intel, are slowly chipping away at the Raging Bulls, causing rifts and chaos in small ways that will eventually cause the metaphorical dam to collapse and wash them away. I keep myself busy too, working with Shelly at the clubhouse. I feel truly accepted by the Ghost Riders. The club has fully embraced me as one of their own, and any last lingering mistrust seems to evaporate with each successful mission against my father.

I can only imagine how pissed my father must be. We started so small, he probably didn’t even suspect anything to begin with, let alone that the Ghost Riders were behind it. But he’ll soon realize we’re the cause of his grievances, the reason why the first mutinous whispers have begun among his men, wondering if he’s lost his touch, if it’s time to make way for a new, stronger, younger, and more capable leader.

I often fantasize about being the one to rub it in his face and tell him it was me who took him down. His useless waste of space daughter.

All those years where he and his men would talk in front of me, never suspecting I’d be capable of using the information against him. I picture myself riding up on a bike in a blaze of glory, surrounded by my men and new family. He’ll see that I’m the old lady to not one but three of his sworn enemies.

He might not care for me, but I know the humiliation will crush him. His own daughter, fucking three men at once, would be bad enough in his eyes, but those men being his sworn enemies, will finally break him. He’ll lose his credibility, his power, everything. He’ll regret ever tossing me aside or thinking that I’m worthless.

I can’t wait to see his expression as he realizes he’s lost everything, all because he was a lousy father.

They say revenge is sweet. But King is about to realize his little girl is anything but sweet and innocent.

We’re about to have a strategy meeting to discuss our next move against my father and the Raging Bulls. I feel honored that the guys have included me in these, and I'm glad they now trust me enough to involve me in their most confidential discussions.

Today’s meeting is top secret, so instead of being at the clubhouse, we’re holding it in the conference room of an office block the Ghost Riders own. We pull up, park our bikes in the underground car park, then head up to reception.

Even though the guys have left their club vests behind today, they still stick out like sore thumbs. It’s like dressing a pitbull up in a cute sweater. They look harmless, but you know that they could hurt anyone who tried to harm their loved ones. The receptionist’s eyes widen as we approach the front desk, a mixture of fear and arousal as she takes in the sight of my men. They look damn hot, radiating dangerous energy and power.

“Can I help you?” the woman stammers. She seems torn between flirting and calling the cops.

Flint smiles at her, oozing charm, and she visibly relaxes. “Flint Hawke, I’ve booked conference room A.”

The woman gasps, eyes widening in surprise. “Mr. Hawke, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize…” She doesn’t finish her thought. What could she say? I didn’t realize the building's owner looked like you. I didn’t think Mr. Hawke would be so hot. None of the things she’s likely thinking would be acceptable to say out loud. “Let me just call Ms. Nicholls now, she’s expecting you.” She makes the call, informing the building manager that Mr. Hawke has arrived.

It feels strange to see Flint being treated like the big boss in a corporate setting. I’m used to people deferring to him as president of the Ghost Riders, but this feels different.

“She’s coming now. Can I get you anything while you wait? Tea, coffee… something else?” The receptionist's words are perfectly innocuous, just doing her job, but from the way she looks at Flint and the purr in her voice, I can tell that she’d like to give him something that’s beyond her duties as a receptionist.