Summer
There are two letters waiting for me in the mailbox. For some reason, it’s still weird to me that an MC has mailboxes, but an address is an address. The cops need to know where to send their summons, I guess, so the bikers can toss them in the garbage. But yeah, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor biker gang turf wars are going to keep the mail from coming. That any of it is for me is new, though.
King sniffs curiously at my leg, then as soon as I turn, he takes off, leading the way back towards the house. Every few steps, he stops and waits for me, before hopping forwards a few more. “What, boy? Isn’t Jupiter around?” Sometimes, the much younger Jupiter gets just a little bit too boisterous for King, but usually they’re happily busy exploring the compound. Then again, ever since my baby bump appeared, King’s been a lot more clingy, like he’s watching out for me. “You’re a good boy, King.” His tail wags happily.
I wave to Alessa and the kids, then Emily and her kids, and then I get back to my doorstep to find a little box from Natalie.
I’m barely inside the door when Preacher embraces me from behind, his hands finding my baby bump before sliding them up to cup my breasts.
I bat his hands away. “Come on, I’m barely inside. I have mail—and cookies!” I hold up the box from Natalie. Her chocolate chip cookies have become my pregnancy craving, and she keeps dropping them off. “I could marry that woman!”
Crash is frying up eggs in the kitchen, making breakfast for all four of us. It’s a lot of eggs. “No you couldn’t, sunshine! You’re fucking ours, and no one—not even Natalie—is allowed to steal you away from us,” he yells.
I slide out of Preacher’s grasp—only because he lets me—and drop the cookies on the kitchen table. “I probably shouldn’t just keep scarfing them down. I’m getting a little round.”
Devil, who’s been scanning his phone in one of the kitchen chairs, leans forward just far enough so that he can smack me on the ass. I shriek in surprise and jump out of range. “Baby, you’re fucking pregnant. Fucking triplets. Round happens. Be happy. Eat the fucking cookies.”
“You just like that it makes my boobs bigger.” I stick my tongue out at him.
“Your tits are fucking magnificent, no matter what size they are.” His gaze levels fully on my chest.
“Hey! My eyes are up here.”
“I know.”
I shake my head in resignation, just as Preacher wraps himself around me again. This time, he leaves one hand on my belly, but the other one is starting to nudge my peasant shirt off my shoulder. “Oh my God, it’s like being married to an octopus with you three around.”
Crash turns off the heat as he puts the last egg on the tray. “We can’t help it if just the sight of you gets us hard as fuck,” he says casually. “Get as round as you fucking need to. We’re still going to be fucking you silly. How many eggs?” He’s plating them up on toast, and tossing some slices of bacon on the side.
“Two, please.” I twist away from Preacher and hold up the letters. “Mail, remember.”
He lets me go for now, so I can open them. The first one is from the real estate office. I slice it open with a spare butter knife. Inside is all the documentation of the transfer of the sale of the estate, along with the statement of donating all of the proceeds to a charity that works on helping orphaned and abused children find better homes. I couldn’t take the money myself, knowing how Dad had earned it, not to mention that I’ve got everything I need right here. So we all agreed, for all of our own reasons, that it was the best way to spend it. We all had rough childhoods, and it just felt right.
It makes me smile. “The sale went through. All the money’s been donated.”
“Nice,” says Devil, and for just a moment, he looks so vulnerable before his face settles into a happy smile. We all have our demons.
“What’s the other one?” asks Crash.
“Not sure, actually. It’s from the office of the attorney general.” I frown as I slit the envelope open.
“Probably another warning,” growls Preacher. “They can just fucking try to come and get you.”
I scan the paper, figuring he’s right, then stop. Then I go back to the top and read more carefully, making sure I’m getting every word right.
“What? What’s it say?” My expression must be betraying my amazement, because they’re all staring at me.
“I… I’m off the hook. They still had some of the things left over from Vivian’s illness, including a vial of aconite that has Grayson’s fingerprints on it. And the way he basically confessed to killing Dad on a live stream, and the way he acted and they found his plastic glove, and… I mean, you guys know about all that stuff, and they don’t say exactly why, but just that based on all the evidence, they’ve decided not to move on with the charges.”
“All charges are dropped?” Devil sounds like he can’t even believe it.
“Everything. It took them long enough, and I’m pretty sure the cops might still want to have some words with you guys about assaulting a prison transport, if nothing else, but as of right now, I’m free again.”
Preacher grins. “That breakout was some of our finest work, if I say so.”
“Calls for a celebration,” says Crash.
“Cookies?” I ask, eyeing the box from Natalie. The way the guys are crowding in on me, their eyes hungry for something completely different from either cookies or eggs, makes me pretty sure we’re going to have to reheat something, because no matter how hungry I am, my guys have forgotten all about breakfast.
And I’m pretty sure reminding them isn’t going to work.
“Guys, can’t we just—eep!”
Preacher sweeps me up into his arms like he’s about to carry me over the threshold after a wedding, and turns a hundred and eighty degrees, setting a course straight for the bedroom. Crash and Devil follow right behind.
“Guys!”
“Shh. You just became a free woman, and we’re gonna celebrate this, whether you want to or not,” growls Devil.
“Whether I want to or—hey! Don’t I get a say in this? I’m pregnant!” I kick my legs, but it’s not like I can get out of Preacher’s strong arms.
But he stops, squeezing me close and looks down at me with smoldering dark eyes. “You don’t want to?” He’s not really asking me. He already knows the answer, and his tone makes that very clear. Still, I can say no if I want.
But he’s right. Of course he is. “Yes,” I admit grudgingly.
“Thought so.” And so he carries me the rest of the way to the bedroom while the guys laugh behind us. They can laugh all they want. I know who’s going to be the winner at the end of all this, and that’s me.
He drops me onto the bed so I land on my back. I let out a grunt, but it’s more in surprise than anything.
As Crash twists his T-shirt up over his head and bares his tattooed abs, Devil starts unbuttoning his jeans. “You gonna get out of your clothes, or do we tear them off you?”
They don’t have to ask me twice. I get up on my knees and lift my shirt over my head. My bra follows, and I shake it off before I throw it aside. Devil’s smile widens. Always the breast guy. I roll my eyes, but I smile too. I can’t get my skirt off soon enough, and by the time I’m sliding my panties down, there are three big, strutting cocks waiting for my attention.
“I never thought you guys would ever get that worked up over a legal document,” I tease, grinning up at them in turn. “Am I even exciting anymore if I’m not a murderer on the run?”
Preacher’s the first one on the bed, as he gets in between my legs and pushes my knees apart. When he leans in, he doesn’t go for my pussy, though. He goes for my belly, kissing it all over. “Honestly, I love the idea of you creating life a lot fucking more than taking it. This here, it’s us—all of us—together.” He kisses me again, and then starts moving downwards, past my belly button and towards where I’d really rather have his mouth right now.
Devil gets on the bed, and straddles my chest. He’s got a little bottle of lube, and he squirts out a big dollop right into my cleavage before he tosses it aside and cups both of my breasts in his strong hands. Then he pushes his cock in between them.
“I knew you liked my bigger boobs,” I say with a little giggle. When he pushes in, the head of his cock bumps against my chin, so I crane my neck just enough to swipe my tongue over the tip before he pulls back.
He moans at that. “Just because I love your fucking tits no matter what, doesn’t mean I won’t take advantage of the opportunity when it’s there.” He slides back in, and I catch him on my tongue again.
“Love my fucking tits, or love fucking my tits.” God, imagine just a few months ago, when the idea of any of those words passing my lips would’ve shocked me out of my mind. And now I’m just throwing them around. Look at how bad I am, living a domestic life in a little house and eating cookies my neighbor brought me. Or would be, if I wasn’t about to get a serious dicking down.
Yeah, life took just a little bit of a turn.
While Devil’s moaning and sliding his thick cock between my breasts, Preacher brings that expert tongue of his to bear on my pussy. God, he’s so good at that, sliding the full width of it between my folds before spiraling in on my clit. We’ve barely started, and he’s already got my heart racing and my insides bubbling.
Crash puts his hands under my arms. “Guys, let me shift her a little.” They grin. We all know what he wants—what’s turned out to be his favorite.
He pulls me right up to the edge of the bed, so that my head just barely hangs over it. Then he brings that perfect cock right up to my mouth and slides it in between my lips. Devil gets back in between my breasts, and Preacher dips his broad tongue into me, and then we’re all moving together, like we’re all parts of a magnificent sex machine.
Crash is so hard, slowly fucking my mouth. He slides in and out, daring just a little bit deeper each time, testing me while I swirl my tongue around him. I’ve got my hands on his hips, but I can handle this, at least so far.
Devil starts playing with my nipples. His thumbs flick over them, and sometimes he gives them a little pinch while he fucks his cock through the valley he’s made by squeezing them together. My breasts have only gotten more sensitive with pregnancy, and everything he does sends little tendrils of electricity arcing over my skin, surging down into the building heat between my legs.
Crash bumps against the entrance to my throat and moans as I try to swallow around his head. “Fuck,” he hisses, then pulls back as I give his hips a push. I’ve been practicing, but he’s still a bit much. With a dick like that, he might always be, but I know how good he is at pleasing me, and I want to return the favor. I ease my hands off and he’s right back in, fucking my lips. He’s leaking precum, salty on my tongue as I slide it around.
Preacher starts focusing on my clit, making circles and drawing patterns and spelling the alphabet or whatever magic tricks he uses to drive me up the wall, and it’s working really well. I catch my breath around Crash, and when I moan, the vibrations have him moaning. Devil tugs on a nipple and it’s like it’s connected straight to my clit.
More magic.
Crash knows to pull back when my breathing speeds up. My fingers dig into his hips as Preacher drives me wild. Devil’s weight keeps me pinned, but I arch against him the best I can, as all those bubbles inside me explode like someone shook a soda and just popped the cork. I groan deeply as I come. Preacher’s powerful hands grip my thighs as I clamp them around his head.
All those years I was being told about how horrible and sinful sex was and how my job as a young woman was to keep my thighs closed and my eyes down, but I’m pretty sure none of the people who told me that have ever experienced anything like this. They would’ve found their own bikers to drive them crazy instead of lecturing me if they did.
Because this is amazing.
I finally relax and my eyes flutter open. Crash’s cock is right there, and I swipe my tongue over the tip. I’m ready to keep playing.
Between my legs, Preacher’s thickness presses against me, and then I’m trapped between him and Crash, both of them with a cock in me, one at each end.
They rock me back and forth. Crash is tasting saltier and wetter, signaling that he’s getting close. Devil’s breathing is harsher, growing ragged, as he moves faster and faster between my breasts, and Preacher must’ve been really ready, because as soon as he’s sure I’m slick enough, he speeds up, fucking me with his big hands clutching my hips.
It’s like they’re in a race to come—in me and on me.
Devil wins, groaning deep. He comes hard between my tits, his hot, slick wetness spreading into my cleavage and spurting onto my neck, painting me with cum.
“Fuck,” Crash hisses. I think the sight was too much for him, because suddenly, my mouth is flooded, and I have to swallow as fast as I can. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I love that I can do that to him, to make him lose control like that. I’m theirs, but they’re just as much mine.
And then Preacher, with Devil rolled off to the side and Crash finally withdrawn from my mouth, yanks me towards him so I’m fully back on the bed. He looms over me in a straight-armed plank while he fucks his big cock into me, his hips slapping into the backs of my thighs.
We moan together as his savage fucking threatens to draw a second orgasm out of me. There’s just something about how he fits in me, how he fills me, how his thickness rubs me in just the right places.
Just as he groans and pushes deep, I explode around him, helped by Devil’s hands rubbing his cum into my skin and playing with my one breast, while Crash is sucking on the nipple of the other one. As Preacher’s cum fills me, hot and wet inside, my whole body goes taut around him and I scream, the sound echoing off our bedroom walls.
Preacher settles over me, staying inside while we gather ourselves.
“Fuck, that was hot,” says Devil with a wide grin.
“You guys celebrate too hard. I’m not going to be able to walk for the rest of the day.”
“Works for me,” says Crash. “I don’t think any of us had any intention of letting you outta bed anyway.”
I close my eyes and let out a long sigh. Then smile, because that does sound pretty good. “You guys are going to be the death of me. At least bring me some breakfast so I can build my strength up again.”
Crash, Devil and Preacher grin at each other before returning their attention to me. “Now that, we can do.”
Maybe someday I’ll tire of my guys’ constant attention, whether it’s in or outside of bed.
But I don’t think so.
(c) Stephanie Brother 2023
