Deep 6 (Multiple Love)

But we had to come on this journey to find a way back to each other again, and in the process, he made me a bigger, better, brighter version of the girl I was.

I’m enough for these men.

I can see it in their eyes and feel it in their bodies.

And they’re everything to me.

“Lay with me,” Tyler says softly as I slip from Damien’s lap.

Greg and the triplets have moved to give us space and are seated around the edges of the huge bed.

I lie facing Tyler and close my eyes as he plays with my hair. “I love you,” he whispers again, and I snuggle closer to him, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in.

The way he touches me isn’t new. We’ve traveled this path so many times before, and even though it was a long time ago, we both remember the ways to please each other. The slow build of caresses and kisses is intimate, despite the fact that five other men surround us.

Tyler is showing them how to love me his way.

He hooks my top leg over his arm, opening me enough that he can push inside me. We’re on our sides but face to face, so I can watch every moment of pleasure that passes over his face, and he can see the effect of every move he makes on mine.

I used to love this position because it’s so lazy and slow. We used to fuck like this in the morning, and after, I’d be humming happily for the rest of the day.

We kiss long and deep, and as Tyler’s thrusts get faster, the bed shifts, and hands begin to caress my skin. “That’s it,” Greg murmurs close to my ear. His fingers slide over my breasts, tweaking my nipple then passing with a feather light touch over my side. Damien is there too, stroking my hair from my face. Arden runs the side of his hand between the cheeks of my ass, and I shudder with arousal. Andrew and Able are with me, too, caressing my thighs and my calves.

And in amongst all of this attention, the impossible happens. Another orgasm grips me, sending my mind tumbling further and faster than it ever has before. Soft words are whispered, but I can’t make them out. My mind is scrambled, and all I feel is deep, primal pleasure.

I’m aware of Tyler swelling inside me and his body seizing, but it all happens in a haze, almost as though I’m outside of myself.

“Sandy,” someone whispers.

“Leave her,” another voice says. “It’s a lot for her to take. You’ve had one orgasm, she’s had four.”

“Let her rest,” someone else says, and I moan my agreement. All I want to do is slip into a sex coma of sleep.

“Here.” A blanket is wrapped around me, and the bed shifts as my men take their places around me.

This bed isn’t big enough for all of us to sleep. We can work on that another day, but for now, I’m at peace, and it’s the best feeling ever.

40

TYLER

Sandy’s sister’s house is big and pretty. It’s the kind of house that anyone would want to raise their child in and I’m happy to see that Sophie’s growing up in a good place.

As soon as we pull up in the driveway, the front door opens. Suzanne doesn’t look so different after four years. Maybe her shorter hair gives her more maturity. She’s wearing practical jeans and a blue sweater, and her hand is gripping the edge of the door tight enough that her knuckles are whitened.

I inhale a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel the same way. Sandy’s warm palm covers my closest hand, and she squeezes it gently. “It’s going to be fine,” she says.

“It’s me who should be reassuring you,” I tell her. When our eyes meet, the warmth of our connection seeps into my nervous stomach.

“I know Sophie, and I know my sister. I have an advantage.” She grins, trying to make light of the situation.

“I just…I want her to like me,” I say. It’s tough to expose the most vulnerable sides of ourselves, especially as men. We’re taught that we have to be impenetrable rocks and show no feelings. But I do feel so much in this moment, and I want Sandy to know.

This is the biggest, most important moment of my life.

Most men get to meet their children on the day of their birth. My daughter is already a fully formed little person who can speak. I’ve got some catching up to do.

I glance away from Sandy to the doorway, and my heart skips a beat. She’s there. My little girl, standing holding onto Suzanne’s leg and resting her head against her jeans. She’s not smiling, but I can see she’s not worried. There’s a serene look to her sweet expression. And it’s uncanny how much she looks like me.