Pen
I lead York and Zayn back to the room I woke up in earlier today with my heart pounding in my chest. The last time I was alone with just the two of them, I was angry at them both for being overbearing bastards. They were jealous that Beast dropped me off back at the Academy, and they metaphorically thumped their chests like a couple of gorillas before conceding they were acting like twats.
“So what now?” York asks, a twinkle in his eye as he shuts the bedroom door behind us.
Zayn chuckles. “Mate, you were shot tonight. You need to sleep; you look like shit.”
“I was shot at. I wasn’t shot. There’s a big difference. Like Dax said, it’s only a scratch.”
“Yeah, but you still lost a shitload of blood. Look at you, you’re practically see-through. I’m not sure you’ll have enough blood left to fill your cock.”
I cover my mouth with my hand stifling a laugh. York narrows his eyes at me in challenge. “Believe me, Tiny, I have plenty of blood left.” He cups his cock, and I see the outline of his erection beneath his trousers. He’s not lying.
“Fucking hell, mate,” Zayn exclaims, shaking his head in amusement.
“What is it, are you afraid of a little competition?”
Zayn chuckles. “I’m game if Pen is,” he says, eying me, and despite the dark circles beneath his eyes I can’t help but notice the sudden change in energy. You wouldn’t think they’ve just been involved in a firefight.
York grins. “Fuck, yeah.”
“I think sleep is what’s needed,” I say firmly, biting on my lip as York unzips his trousers and slides them off. Kicking them away alongside his shoes. His dick tents his boxers, and I have to force myself not to drool.
“You sure about that, Titch?” he asks, removing his top, and making my mouth dry out at his beautiful body.
I point at the bandage wrapped around his left bicep where a little blood seeps into the white. “You’ll aggravate the stitches.”
“Shit! That old fucker, Joey, better not have sewn me up ugly. I’ve got a reputation to keep,” he remarks, fingering the bandage.
“What reputation is that?” Zayn questions with a smirk.
He too starts removing his clothes until he’s standing in his boxer shorts. I’m trying hard not to salivate like some sex craved addict. I’ve just had sex with Xeno an hour or so ago, and whilst the bath soothed all sorts of aches and pains, I’m still tender down there. My poor, inexperienced pussy. I smile internally at that thought.
“Being the best-looking Breaker, of course!” York quips.
“Shut the fuck up, you prat.” Zayn rolls his eyes and takes my hand. “I don’t know about this fucker here, but I need a shower. I’ve got blood under my nails, and God knows what else. The quick shower at Tales hadn’t exactly done the job at getting squeaky clean, and there’s no way I’m getting into bed with Pen until I am.”
“Yeah, agreed. Let’s shower,” York says, striding towards the ensuite and the large walk-in shower that’s big enough to fit all of us comfortably.
“You fucker. I wasn’t inviting you!”
“Hey, I’m all in. I’m not afraid to share, ask Dax…” York chuckles at the look on Zayn’s face and my cheeks heat when Zayn turns his attention to me.
“What did I miss?” he asks.
“That was before,” I mutter, internally cursing York as he laughs out loud. He turns on the faucet and strips off his boxers, not in the least bit embarrassed by his nakedness or his growing erection.
“Before?”
“Yeah, when we were kids…”
“Fuck sake,” Zayn curses. “You kept that a secret.”
“Hey, a gentleman never tells,” York calls out from the shower. “Though tonight I’m feeling far from gentlemanly. Want to see how ungentlemanly I’m feeling, Titch?” He winks at me through the glass. The bastard.
“Should you be getting your bandage wet?” I ask, totally changing the subject, determined to keep my gaze level with his and not stare at his cock. I’m slightly concerned that I’ve become a little unhinged after last night and all the revelations that followed. I’m not normally this… this, I don’t know… free with my loving. Then again, I’ve only ever loved these boys and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. So why the fuck does it matter?
“Fuck the bandage. I know what needs wetting, and it ain’t these motherfucking stitches.”
Zayn squeezes my hand, giving me a knowing look. “He’s being fucking extra tonight. You’ll have to forgive him, York gets a bit hyper after a little bloodshed.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot.”
“I see.” I frown and Zayn winces, his eyes darkening as he lowers his voice.
“Sarcasm, bravado, and laughter is his way of coping.”
My heart squeezes. “And how do you cope?”
“Sleep mainly. Not that I get much fucking respite where that’s concerned. Nightmares,” he explains with a shrug, looking more like the boy I met when we were kids than the man he is today.
I nod my head, understanding in the moment what he needs, what they both need. Distraction. Love. I can give them that in abundance. There are other ways to get off without full penetration, right? I’m more than happy to fulfil another one of my fantasies right here and now.
Cupping Zayn’s face in my hands, I press a gentle kiss against his lips. “Come on, let’s join York.”
“You sure about this? It’s been tough on you too. Despite how this fucker is behaving, we don’t expect anything from you, Pen. Not a damn thing.”
“I know that, Zayn. The thing is, even if I wanted to, we can’t anyway…”
“Can’t what?” York asks, his head peering around the entrance of the walk-in shower.
“No condoms,” I say with a shrug.
“Shit!” York looks down at his engorged cock then back up, laughing a little hysterically. “Zayn, please tell me—”
“Sorry man, didn’t really cross my mind whilst we were shooting holes in those bastards …” he shrugs.
York leans his head against the glass which is rapidly steaming up. “Fuck me,” he exclaims.
I can’t help but laugh. “Hey, we’ve got the rest of our lives to indulge in each other,” I say, meaning every word. I don’t intend to ever let them go.
Zayn smiles his chipped-tooth smile, and my heart does a little flip-flop. “I like the sound of that, Pen,” he says.
Taking his hand in mine, I pull him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind us. I can feel York’s eyes on me as I untie the cord at my waist and slide the robe from my shoulders, letting it fall to my feet.
“Jesus, fuck,” York mutters and out of the corner of my eye I see him fist his cock.
Smiling at the powerful way I feel right now, I run my hands over Zayn’s chest, my fingers lingering on the scars that crisscross his skin. “You have so many scars,” I say, a lump forming in my throat.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. You matter,” I retort, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. My fingers trail lower, hooking beneath the band of his boxers. I pull them down, sliding them over his hips and thighs. He kicks them away, standing naked before me. Entwining my fingers with his, I pull him towards the shower cubicle. As we step inside York steps out of the stream and backs up against the wall opposite, an intense look on his face as droplets of water drip from his hair and glide over his beautiful body.
“Hey,” I say softly, giving him a soft smile.
“Hey,” he replies, pressing a gentle kiss against my lips.
“Fuck, let me at least get clean first…” Zayn grumbles and I grin, nodding towards the bottle of body wash that’s sitting on a shelf beside York.
“Pass that to me, please,” I request. York hands it to me with another kiss.
Behind me Zayn steps under the water and tips his head backwards. I watch as he brings up his hands to swipe the droplets off his face, slicking his hair back. He lets out a low moan as the water runs over his skin, wetting him thoroughly. The tattoos on his upper arms glisten under the spray and my chest pangs at just how beautiful he is, how beautifully damaged by his scars, by his uncle and this life he’s been forced to live.
Wanting to smooth away some of the memories that he must have from every one of those scars, I pour some body wash into my hands, and hand the bottle back to York who’s looking at me intently. A sexy smile pulls up his lips and he pours some of the body wash into his hands.
“You wash Zayn, I’ll wash you.”
“Sounds good to me,” Zayn agrees.
Biting my lip, my cheeks flushing with heat, I turn around and place my hands on Zayn’s chest, sucking in a breath when I feel the scarred and bumped skin. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I touch him with care, making sure that I’m gentle. My fingers run over his collarbone, over his scarred pecs and abs, before working their way back up again. When my fingers stroke over his nipples he lets out a moan, and his mouth pops open. Behind me York is massaging my shoulders, his expert fingers running over my skin as his thumbs move down my spine, the sensation drawing a groan from my lips.
“Like that, Titch?” York asks, stepping closer behind me. I feel his cock press against my lower back and this time it’s York who lets out a groan.
“I hate that he hurt you,” I say quietly, as I take in Zayn’s ravaged chest and the relatively new scar from the cut Jeb had made that night Zayn had persuaded him to let Grim hire me.
York’s hand still on my hips. “Who hurt Zayn?”
“Shit, I—”
Zayn flicks his gaze from me to York standing behind me. “Some of these are from Jeb,” he explains, and I can’t help but see a flicker of shame in his eyes that he covers quickly. “Every time one of us fucked up, I took the punishment so none of you had to.”
York’s fingers dig into my hips involuntarily. “That motherfucking cunt. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!”
My fingers are still on Zayn’s chest as he answers. “What good would it have done?”
“Fuck man, I always knew he was a cunt, but that’s messed up,” York exclaims. For a second he drops his head to my shoulder as though needing to steady himself.
“I did what I had to do. I don’t regret it,” Zayn says, then coughs trying to cover the break in his voice.
Over my shoulder, York reaches for Zayn and cups the back of his head, bringing him in closer so that I truly am sandwiched between them. My hands slide around Zayn’s waist, and my cheek presses against his chest as York hugs us both. “Thank you, brother. Thank you for protecting us, for stepping up, but know this, from this moment on it stops. Understand?”
“Yeah, understood,” Zayn agrees, his voice scratchy as their foreheads touch above me in the cutest bro-hug ever.
“As much as I’m loving this,” I say, wiggling my hips provocatively, fully aware of their nakedness pressing against me, “A girl really needs to breathe.”
York pulls back with a laugh. “Shit, sorry Titch.”
Zayn grins down at me and presses a kiss against my forehead. “I think it’s York’s turn.”
Over my head an intense look passes between them and my heart warms at the thoughtfulness between them. God, I love them both so fucking much.
“I think you’re right,” I agree, twisting in their arms.
York already has the body wash bottle at the ready, and he squeezes some into my palms, and Zayn’s. Behind me Zayn wraps his arms around my waist as he presses a hot kiss against my bare shoulder.
“You’re too much of a fucking temptation,” he grumbles, holding me close, before he slowly starts rubbing his soaped-up hands over my stomach. I let out a breathy laugh as he slides his lips up my neck and gently nibbles on my earlobe, sliding his erection along the crease of my arse. “Wash York, make him come,” he whispers into my ear.
York meets Zayn’s gaze over my head and behind the grin I see the love between them. It’s not sexual, just pure. The kind of love we all dream of. I don’t need to be told twice. Focusing my attention back on York, I rub my hands together to foam up the body wash, then press my hands against his chest. He lets out a low groan as my warm hands caress his pecs and stroke over his hardened nipples. Leaning back against the shower wall, York watches me with his icy-blue eyes as I gently wash him down.
I run my hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, tracing his tattoo as I go and avoiding the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Stroking my fingers down his arms, I massage each hand in turn, taking my time to loosen up the tension. My touch has him moaning with pleasure that gets louder as I run my hands over the trail of hair leading to his cock. He jerks in my hand when I wrap my fingers around the base of his thick length.
“Fuck, Titch,” he grinds out, his hooded eyelids dropping shut as my other hand clasps the mushroom head of his cock, and gently slides down his thickening shaft.
“That’s it, Pen, stroke his cock. Can you see how hard he is for you? Can you feel how hard I am for you?” Zayn asks, his own words needy and oh so fucking sexy.
With one hand running over my stomach, he removes the other and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that he’s stroking his own cock, soaping it up good. I glance over my shoulder at him and bite on my lip at the sight.
“Zayn,” I say, breathily, my clit pulsing with need as I pump York’s dick, loving the feel of him, loving the way his breaths are coming quickly with every firm stroke.
“Eyes forward, Pen. I got you,” Zayn replies, stepping closer as he slides his lips over my shoulder once more. Then it’s my turn to moan when he rocks his cock up and down my arse crack, his fingers sliding lower, inching towards the place I want him to touch most of all. With a groan, he finally parts my pussy lips with his finger and finds me wet and wanting.
“You’re so goddamn slick for us,” he grinds out, circling his finger over my clit and drawing a low moan out of my throat. I rock my hips, the motion creating delicious friction for his cock as he presses into my back until I’m sandwiched between them both, only leaving enough space for me to jerk off York.
“Look at her,” Zayn demands, and York’s eyes snap open. His gaze flares with heat before dropping lower, trailing a blaze over my slick skin, lingering on my tits then focusing on my hands sliding up and down his dick.
“Fuck, Titch, that’s so damn hot.”
With one hand, Zayn continues to pleasure me, whilst the other hand wraps around my throat and squeezes gently. I whimper as he circles my clit with the perfect amount of pressure, matching the grip he has on my throat. For a brief, lust-fueled moment, I wonder whether York can feel Zayn’s hand between us, but if he does, he doesn’t appear to mind. Right now York is burning a hole in my chest with his heated gaze, and when he cups my breasts in his hands and runs his thumb over my peaked nipples, I jerk in their hands.
“Pen, keep doing that and I’m going to come all over your back,” Zayn chuckles, his voice full of love and lust.
“I thought that was the point,” York retorts, his mouth going slack as I run the pad of my thumb over his slit. “Titch, you’re killing me.”
“At least you’ll die a happy man,” I giggle, swallowing down my laugh and replacing it with a groan when York squeezes my tits and Zayn sucks on my neck.
“No, Titch, that will only happen when I’m buried deep inside your cunt and my best mate here has his cock filling your arse,” York replies with a devious smile before crashing his lips against mine and kissing me with firm lips and a promise. My responding moan is swallowed by his hungry mouth as the lust building in my core expands and grows to breaking point.
As hot water slides over us all, we move against each other in another kind of dance that has our hearts beating in unison, our breaths mingling with every movement and our love expanding around us in a bliss-filled hug.
The mounting pleasure of York fucking my mouth with his tongue and Zayn’s fingers between my legs has me gasping for breath and shattering first. York releases my mouth so I can cry out and a few seconds later, York roars as his hot cum spurts in thready strings all over my stomach. Behind us, Zayn swears under his breath as his cock slides faster between the crack of my arse. I arch my back into him, pressing my tits against York’s chest and kissing him half-blinded by my orgasm. For a brief moment, Zayn slips his cock between my pussy lips, the tip of his cock rubbing through my folds and over my too sensitive clit. I cry out, wanting to feel him slip inside of me, but fortunately for me, Zayn has enough self-restraint for the both of us and pulls back, wrapping his arms back around me.
“York, get on your damn knees and fuck our girl’s beautiful pussy with your mouth, before I lose my mind and slide my dick inside her cunt,” Zayn grinds out.
“Lucky that’s exactly what I was planning on doing, you overbearing shit,” York grumbles, but he grins devilishly as he sinks to his knees, hooks both of my legs over his shoulders and fucks me with his tongue just like Zayn ordered him to do.
“That’s it, Pen, ride his face,” Zayn whispers in a sexy-as-fuck drawl that makes my toes curl just as much as York’s expert tongue. Zayn’s thick arms support my weight so that I’m literally sitting on York’s shoulder’s in a reverse cowgirl move and York secures me in place grabbing my arse cheeks in his large hands as he encourages me to ride his face, growling in appreciation as I follow his lead and do exactly that. I’ve never experienced anything so fucking hot. Actually, that’s a lie, because every sexual encounter with my men so far has been fucking molten-lava, volcanic, hot.
Whilst York strives to bring me to another mind-blowing orgasm with his expert tongue, Zayn uses my lower back and the flat of his palm to create the perfect friction for his cock.
“Kiss me,” he orders, before reaching around to cup my face and dragging my head to the side, claiming my mouth just as much as York claims my pussy. Seconds later I fall apart, my pussy convulsing and pulsing as York laps at my juices and Zayn’s hot seed spurts over my lower back.
Ten minutes later, we climb under the bed covers, clean, satiated and utterly exhausted in the best possible way. Lying down in the center of the bed, York climbs in behind me wrapping his body around me as he presses a kiss against my cheek, snuggling in close.
“I fucking love you, Titch.”
My fingers slide over his forearm, tangling with his fingers as I draw his arm tighter around me. “I love you too, York.”
He sighs, buries his face in my hair and in less than a minute has fallen into a deep sleep.
“Hey, you prick. I wanted to be the big spoon,” Zayn complains, but quickly quietens when I raise my finger and press it against my lips indicating that York has passed out cold. “Look at him, sleeping like a baby.”
“Shhh. He was shot, you know,” I say with a soft smile.
“He was shot at. Big difference,” Zayn quips, climbing into bed.
I reach up with my free hand and encourage him to come closer, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “There will be plenty of opportunities for you to be the big spoon,” I offer with a sweet smile, relishing the thought.
He pulls a face. “You reckon? I think we’re gonna need a fucking rota or something because these bastards are gonna test my patience with their alpha bullshit. You were always mine first,” he grumbles with a slanted smile.
“Yeah, but she’s ours now,” York mutters, half asleep. I smother Zayn’s response with another kiss and York’s soft snore tells us both that he’s fallen back under.
“See. Even in his sleep the bastard has to have the last word.”
“We’ll figure this out… together. All of us,” I say.
Zayn flicks his gaze to York and grins. “Yeah, together,” he agrees.
And that’s how I fall asleep, with York’s arms wrapped around my back, Zayn’s soft breaths feathering against my skin and hope blooming in my heart.
