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Sep 20, 2025

Chapter Fifteen: Say I Do

The trio arrived in Chicago with the afternoon light lying soft and wide across the skyline, the train sighing beneath them as if it, too, felt the weight of a journey finally completed. Sera continued to press herself to the window the way a child might press to a sweet shop glass, eyes bright, mouth slightly open in wonder, breathing in the racket of it all, the trains and the streetcars and the high song of vendors and the ground-shiver of wheels over rails. Smoke watched her reflection first, the faint version of her face floating over brick and steel and sky, and then he watched the real Sera as she lifted her hand and pointed at the rows of buildings that stacked themselves like books on a crowded shelf. Stack leaned over her and followed her gaze, his grin loose and pleased because he loved seeing delight bloom on her like that, loved how she brightened a place just by arriving in it.

When the train doors slid and the platform air rushed in with its mixture of coal, perfume, and lake wind, the twins stepped down first and then turned as one, reaching up for Sera. Smoke’s hand found her waist and Stack’s palm bracketed her elbow as she came down between them, light as a sunflower lifted from a field. The station crowded around them with collars, traveling trunks and greetings pitched high to be heard over the engines. Smoke felt the patterns of it as if he could read the routes by sound alone, and then his gaze cut through the movement and found their men waiting beyond the ticket windows. Two cars idling at the curb, engines ticking and their drivers standing at an alert angle that said they belonged to him. He counted faces without letting his eyes harden. Six… there should have been six. Four watched him with shoulders squared. Two were missing. He said nothing. Stack said nothing. The knowledge passed between them as naturally as breath.

They moved like a small procession out to the street, Sera in the center, her fingers wrapped around the strap of her travel bag while she turned in a soft circle to take in the city. The cars waited deep green and polished, city grit floating in their shine, and the men opened the doors with a brisk nod to Smoke and a brief, respectful smile for Sera. She settled into the back seat between the twins and looked out as the driver pulled into the stream of South Side traffic. The neighborhoods unfolded like chapters. Corner men with papers. Women with church hats held low against the wind. Brass from somewhere down a cross street. Boys running with shoelaces trailing and a bark of laughter that rose up and vanished under the car’s rumble.

Bronzeville announced itself not with a sign but with the feeling of it. A pride in the stoops, a carefulness in the curtains, a perfume of onions frying and old wood. The driver turned onto 35th and then onto South Parkway, and Sera’s hand found Smoke’s sleeve and squeezed there, a quiet little anchor, as she craned her neck to see the neighborhood she would call home. Smoke had chosen the building for the view and the vantage. Eight floors up meant a horizon, and it meant lines of sight. It meant that a man could protect what was his.

They climbed from the car and Sera’s shoes tapped a rhythm on the lobby tile as she lifted her head to the ceiling with its painted garlands and its round lamp that glowed like a winter moon. The elevator yawned open and swallowed them with a hum, and Sera pressed closer to Smoke’s side as the floor numbers lifted one by one. When the door slid again on eight, the hallway breathed polish and lemon oil, and a city breeze found them under the door like a curious cat.

The apartment opened on two tall windows and a sweep of afternoon that made everything look faintly gilded. From here the avenues drew straight lines and the roofs laid out like quiet fields. Sera took one step in, then two, then five… and then she did that little half-run she always does when excitement tugged her forward like a ribbon. Smoke watched the set of her shoulders ease, watched the amazement settle and deepen into something tender. His men filed in behind, careful, waiting, the way men do when they carry news that must be delivered but will ruin the air.

“Go on,” Stack said, his voice warm, his chin lifting toward the interior rooms. “Go see it, little dove. See what suits you.”

Sera looked at him, then at Smoke, and when Smoke tipped his head once she darted away on soft steps, calling back with a bubbling laugh as doors opened and light fell across carpets and the city poured in from every window. She reached a balcony door and went very still, and then she glanced back over her shoulder, remembering that they were high up, and hesitation crossed her features like a small cloud skimming a bright sky. She returned on quick feet and caught Stack’s jacket sleeve, not tugging so much as holding. Stack read the tension in her, the way she hid nerves behind delight, and he bent over close enough to kiss the center of her forehead with a quiet press that felt like a promise. His hand landed in a playful pat on the curve of her backside as if to nudge courage into her. “A heaven sent woman like you,” he told her, eyes warm, “ought to wake up in the clouds every day.”

She exhaled a soft breath that sounded like a laugh trying to escape a whisper, and then she was off again, shoes brushing across the rug as she wandered. Smoke let his attention return to the men gathered near the door. Randal stood a half step ahead, shoulders squared, cap tucked under his arm.

“Where they at?” Smoke asked, the words even, the temperature of the room dropping without any need for a raised tone. Randal’s gaze flickered, just enough, and that was the answer before letting his mouth speak for him.

“Junebug an Tony,” Randal said quietly, careful with each word. “They went out last night. Got too bold with white women that laugh just like trouble. They flirted where they shouldn’t have. Two white men followed ‘em to the alley off Thirty Third. Found ‘em beaten an cut up this mornin’.”

The room went still at the edges. Stack’s jaw set, a hard piece of stone under skin, and he stared past the men for a breath that seemed to have anger intertwined with it. Smoke looked at the far window and then back to the faces in front of him. He didn’t swear or pace. He let the fury sort itself into clean lines the way a soldier lays out ammunition on a table.

“Send flowers,” he said, the words quiet and shaped. “Every color those mothers ever liked, an the envelopes signed by my hand. Make sure the pastor say their names twice.” He shifted his attention to Randal. “Did you pick up the package?”

Randal reached into his coat and produced a small wooden box, the kind a man could hide in his palm and still move his fingers. He handed it to Smoke without flourish. Smoke flipped the lid and both twins leaned in. The ring sat on velvet like a small sun that had decided to be kind. A gold band, a modest diamond with a clean eye, and tiny stones around it, red and blue, the colors catching the light as if someone had painted a flame and a river around a promise. Smoke felt the shape of what came next settle into him, as inevitable as rain after heavy clouds. He closed the box. It vanished into his pocket.

“Capone sent word,” Randal said. “Requests y’all presence in four days. Same place he like to talk when he wanna be seen, not heard.”

Smoke didn’t blink at the name, he didn’t like the thought of working with a white man, but he liked opportunity and leverage, and Chicago wrote its laws in a kind of ink that demanded a steady hand. “We gon’ be there,” he said. “Not before.”

Randal lifted a suitcase from beside his boot and offered it. Smoke didn’t look inside as he passed it to Stack, who carried it to a hall table and set it down with a quiet thud. The twins traded a look that carried whole sentences. The men understood that they were dismissed. Smoke gave them a nod that carried both condolence and command. Randal touched two fingers to the brim of his cap and they filed out, shoes barely whispering against the floor.

Silence returned like a visitor who never quite leaves. Smoke loosened his tie, the fabric sliding through the knot with a soft hiss, and he shrugged out of his jacket, laying it across the arm of a chair with the same precision he gave a map. He followed the sound of Sera’s laughter down the hall, a bright little stream that drew him past a doorway lined with books, another with a faint scent of cedar, until he reached the room with the long window and the mirrored wardrobe. Stack came after him with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders eased for the first time since the news. They paused on the threshold and found her at the closet, fingers skating over hangers that held a neat miracle. Dresses in colors she loved. Blouses with the right darts. Skirts that would swish when she walked. Everything measured to her exactly, the way a song fits a voice.

Sera turned and saw them and let out a delighted little noise that belonged to her alone. She ran the few steps between and into Stack first because he stood closest, and he scooped her up without thinking, joy passing through him like a spark. He kissed her face the way a man might kiss a handful of summer rain, quick and greedy and smiling between each press, and his hands slid under her skirt to anchor her against him, palms warm against the back of her thighs. She squealed and covered his cheeks with her hands, which only made him laugh into her skin.

Smoke stood back and watched, counting the windows, noting the angle of the street below, the places where shadow pooled, the places where a man might hide on a night he meant harm. He traced the path from bedroom to bath in his head and listened to the pipes sing somewhere in the walls. It pleased him that the water sounded strong.

When the pieces in his mind aligned in the way a lock receives a key, he stepped forward and peeled Stack’s hands from Sera with a patience that still carried ownership. “Need to borrow our woman,” he said, and Stack, content for the moment, let her pass into Smoke’s orbit.

Smoke lifted her thick frame as if she weighed no more than his shirt, set her feet back down so that her toes kissed the tile of the little passage, and guided her into the en-suite. A room with glossy white tile and a bath that could have floated on the lake if given the chance. Light fell in through glass textured like water, and a faint scent of vanilla rose from a glass bottle that waited on a shelf like a promise that someone had made on their behalf.

“We can wash you proper now,” Smoke said as he rolled his sleeves and bent to turn the taps. Water came in a steady pour, a shining ribbon that struck the porcelain with a bright sound. “No more of that back woods bathin’ you was accustomed to. Not when we got a tub fit for a Queen.”

She stood beside him and watched the steam reach. Then she squinted at him in that playful way she had when she wanted to be teasing and grateful at once, the corners of her eyes gathering with what might have been mischief if mischief wore a church hat. “So y’all wasn’t exaggeratin’,” she said, eyeing the broad rim and the elegant fixtures and the way the room gave them space to breathe.

Smoke turned toward her and the teasing on his mouth softened into something that felt heavier and sweeter. He touched her chin with two fingers and guided her look back to his. The kiss he gave her arrived like an oath and tasted like city wind. It wasn’t urgent or rushed… but it was certain… the way a sunrise is certain even on a winter morning. He didn’t crowd her, instead he surrounded her with an intention that could be read with his hands. His breath touched her cheek and his words sank low and steady against her mouth. “We plan on givin’ you the moon,” he told her, voice quiet enough that the water nearly kept it for itself. “An the stars if you want them. An if you ask for somethin’ past that, we gon’ find a way to give you that too.”

Smoke’s words hung between them like a vow carved into stone, and Sera felt the warmth of it bloom along her skin. The steady run of water behind them filled the silence, steam coiling upward and wrapping around the three of them like a veil. Stack shifted against the doorframe, his eyes tracing over Sera with a hungry patience, the kind that made her feel both worshipped and undone at once.

Smoke’s hands fell from her face and went to his shirt, fingers working at the buttons with a measured rhythm that drew her attention downward. Each slide of fabric away from his chest revealed hard planes and the faint gleam of scars that spoke of stories she hadn’t yet asked to hear. Sera’s eyes shifted to the going away present Annie gave him that bloomed on his neck, then she watched closely as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders and draped it over the rail. He then reached for his belt, the leather sliding free with a quiet hiss that carried through the room. His trousers followed, heavy wool pooling at his feet before he stepped out of them.

Stack let out a low hum as he pushed from the frame and came closer, already tugging his suspenders down his broad shoulders. His shirt came loose in one motion, and he balled it in his fist before tossing it aside, the muscles of his chest and arms catching the haze of the light. He worked the rest of his clothes off with less restraint than his brother, his grin crooked as his trousers fell and he stood unabashed, the faintest glint of gold from his tooth catching the steam-softened glow.

Sera’s gaze darted between them, her breath trembling as if she couldn’t quite decide where to look. She twisted the hem of her dress in her fingers, eyes wide, soft lips pressing together before curving into the beginnings of a shy smile. Smoke noticed the small struggle in her posture, that blend of curiosity and nerves, and stepped forward to ease her hands away from the fabric. His palms smoothed down her arms until they reached her wrists, steady and grounding, as Stack circled to her other side, his fingers brushing against the back of her neck in a touch meant to soothe.

“You still trust us?” Smoke asked, his voice even, his eyes steady on hers.

She nodded, small but certain, and Smoke rewarded her with another kiss, deeper this time, while his hands found the buttons at her bodice. He undid them one by one, not tearing, not rushing, just loosening her from the confines of fabric until the dress slackened around her shoulders. Stack caught the fabric before it could fall too roughly and guided it down her body, peeling it away as if she were something delicate wrapped in too much cloth. The slip beneath clung faintly from the heat of her skin, and when Stack lifted it, his knuckles grazed the underside of her breast, drawing a gasp from her throat.

She tried to step back but Smoke’s hands steadied her, his voice quiet against her ear. “Ain’t nothin’ you need to hide. We done seen everythin’ an from now on we gon’ see you right.”

Stack eased the slip down her thighs and let it pool at her ankles, his grin softer now. He bent, one hand at her calf, lifting her foot free from the fabric as if she were royalty stepping out of robes. Then he repeated with the other until she stood bare between them, her skin kissed by the heat of the bathwater rising and the beaming sun spilling through the frosted window.

The tub steamed behind them, full now, the surface trembling each time a drop fell from the faucet. Smoke took her hand, guiding her toward it, while Stack slipped behind to place a steadying palm at the small of her back. She climbed carefully, toes dipping into the water first, the warmth making her shiver as it curled around her ankles. Smoke stepped in beside her, his tall frame bending with practiced ease as he lowered himself into the bath, the water rushing against porcelain and sloshing up around his thighs.

Stack followed, bracing a hand on the rim as he slid in, his larger-than-life presence making the water rise further. They formed a circle around her without even meaning to, her body held between them, their knees brushing hers beneath the surface. She sank lower, sighing at the warmth that engulfed her, until she sat with her back pressed lightly against Smoke’s chest, his arms folding around her with a possessive ease. Stack stretched his arm across the rim, his fingers dipping into the water to trail idle lines along her leg, watching her tremble with every brush.

The steam curled tighter, beads of water forming along the curve of her collarbone and sliding downward in slow, gleaming trails. Smoke bent, his lips finding the damp skin of her shoulder, each kiss steady, unhurried but heavy with meaning. Stack leaned closer, his breath fanning across her face before his mouth found her temple, then the corner of her jaw, his hand cupping her chin to turn her slightly so he could taste her smile.

She was surrounded, enveloped, every sense filled with them. From the strength of their bodies framing hers, to the water lapping rhythmically, the city outside humming its song far below while here, high in the clouds, they made a new world of their own.

The water rose and fell in gentle waves around them, the tub creaking faintly as the twins shifted closer, their bodies bracketing Sera on either side. Smoke reached for the bar of soap first, his hand working it into a lather that gleamed across his palms before he set it against her skin. He started with her shoulders, smoothing slow, circular strokes that loosened the tension from her frame, while Stack dipped his hands beneath the water and traced along her calves, thumbs pressing tenderly into the arches of her feet before gliding upward in long, purposeful sweeps.

Sera’s lashes lowered as warmth and touch mingled, her body yielding to the rhythm of their care. The water carried their movements, tiny ripples running across her stomach as Smoke’s hands traveled down her arms, fingers spreading over her wrists before lifting them gently from the water to wash each one. Stack leaned forward, brushing her knee with the back of his hand before sliding higher, his touch careful but not innocent, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

Their hands grew bolder as the minutes stretched. Soap foamed in pale ribbons that clung to her skin before the water stole it away. Smoke’s thumb swept the curve of her breast as if by accident, lingering just long enough to steal her breath, while Stack’s palm pressed against the outside of her thigh, sliding upward until the water trembled around his wrist. She let them, her lips parting slightly before she caught them together and bit down, as though that small restraint could keep her from spilling the sounds gathering in her throat.

It was when she felt them both hardening beneath the water… thick, insistent, pressing against her hips and thighs… that she let out the faintest sigh and tilted her head back. The realization pulsed through her, sharp and intoxicating. She bit her lip harder, the gesture half-innocent and half-knowing, before whispering into the charged space between them.

“Lemme… clean you too.” Her voice trembled with a blend of shyness and boldness, as though she had only just realized the daring nature of her words. “Teach me how to do it the way you like.”

Smoke’s hand froze against her ribcage. Stack’s thumb halted its circling on her thigh. They both tilted their heads at the same moment, dark eyes narrowing, studying her with the kind of silence that felt heavier than any words. The steam wrapped tighter around the three of them, and for a long, weighted breath, the only sound was the quiet slap of water against porcelain.

When neither man immediately answered, Sera shifted. Her fingers reached for the soap, coating her hands until the lather shone slick and white against her brown skin. Then, with a breath that made her chest rise and fall, she slid her palms beneath the water.

Her touch found them both. One hand curved around Smoke, the other around Stack, her gentle hands wrapping as best they could, soap slipping between her fingers as she held their growing lengths. They were hot, solid, alive beneath her touch, and her stomach twisted with both nervousness and delight as she looked up at them, waiting for some sign of approval.

Smoke’s jaw flexed, his mouth set in a hard line as he stared down at her with disbelief that she would dare take initiative like this. Stack, for once, had no easy grin; his expression darkened into that primal darkness she was learning not to fear.

Sera swallowed and kept her hold steady. “Y’all do so much for me… have already done so much,” she whispered, her voice hushed, tender, meant only for them. “I want to take care of you too.” Her hands faltered slightly under the weight of her own boldness, but she did not pull away. Instead, she lifted her chin a little higher, gazing between them with wide, searching eyes, waiting… pleading… for instruction.

Smoke’s hips betrayed him first. The moment her soapy fingers tightened around him, his body answered with a subtle jerk, his chest rumbling with a sound that broke free before he could swallow it down. The grunt that escaped was low and weighted, the kind of sound that made the bathwater ripple in rhythm with his breath. For a fraction of a second, he gave into it, the sheer boldness of her touch tugging him toward the edge of something he wasn’t ready to give.

He drew in a sharp breath through his nose and forced his body to still, shoulders tightening as his hand caught the rim of the tub. He exhaled slow, dragging the control back into his bones. Then he shook his head, a firm and measured no, not with words, but with the slight shift of his chin and the steadying weight of his eyes locked on hers.

Sitting next to him, Stack wasn’t as restrained. The corners of his mouth curled with something feral, the kind of grin that promised mischief, lust swimming in his gaze as though he was already halfway to encouraging her. Smoke saw it instantly, the hunger swirling like exaggerated cartoon smoke rings in his twin’s expression, and he didn’t waste a breath before lifting his hand out of the water and flicking a wet finger hard against Stack’s skull.

Stack hissed and tilted his head, caught between amusement and annoyance, rubbing the spot as if Smoke had brought him back to earth by force. “Yeah… yeah… I know…” he muttered, though his eyes still lingered on Sera with that restless desire.

Smoke ignored his twin and shifted his focus back to the woman between them, his palm rising to cup the side of her head. His thumb traced lightly against her damp temple, steady and grounding, as he tilted her chin upward so she would look directly at him. His voice came quiet, but the strength in it left no room for misunderstanding.

“‘Fore we cross that line, my love,” he said, his tone like steel wrapped in velvet, “there’s one more thing we gotta put on the table.”

The weight of his words hung between them, the bath suddenly too small to hold all of it. Stack’s jaw flexed, his shoulders rolling with a restless energy. He let out another grumble beneath his breath, the sound more frustration than speech, before pushing Sera’s hand away from where she still held him. With a groan of effort, he rose from the water, streams cascading down his skin as he climbed out. He didn’t look back right away, grabbing at the pile of towels instead, snapping one open with a sharp flick before tossing another across his shoulder.

Smoke guided Sera’s curious hands away from him and pressed a kiss against the crown of her frizzy curls before standing himself. He moved slower, carefully, like every motion was being measured against the control it took not to fold under the temptation of her boldness. He accepted a towel from Stack, who was already rubbing briskly at his arms, and dried himself down with a soldier’s precision.

Sera stood shivering in the bath, steam curling around her bare shoulders, cheeks warm and pout beginning to form on her lips as she watched them cover themselves. Stack crouched, towel in hand, and helped pat the water from her skin. He wrapped one around her with a kind of rough tenderness, securing it at her chest before lifting her against him. Smoke came beside him, securing the edges, before Smoke carried her back to the bedroom.

The bed was wide, the frame heavy oak, the quilt pulled tight and waiting. They set her down gently at the edge, the mattress dipping under her weight as she clutched the towel tighter around herself. Both men moved around her, drying themselves further, wrapping towels low around their waists, their bare torsos gleaming in the dim light of the room.

For a moment, she only watched them, squinting through damp lashes, her pout deepening as she crossed her arms over her chest. “It ain’t fair,” she muttered, voice edged with complaint. “I can’t even touch you.”

Stack turned first, his smile sly and shameless. He mirrored her pout with one of his own, exaggerating it until it almost looked comical. He leaned close enough that the scent of soap and heat carried across the narrow space, his golden tooth glinting as he spoke. “You can touch me, sunshine,” he teased, “if you call it what it is. Not no ‘thingy.’ Call it a dick.”

Her eyes widened, scandal flickering across her face, and then narrowed into a glare sharp enough to slice. She wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation again and twisted her head to the side, defiantly turning away from him, the ends of her damp hair sticking against her cheek.

Stack chuckled under his breath, smug at her resistance. But when she finally turned her gaze back, it wasn’t to him. Her eyes lifted past his shoulder, locking onto Smoke as he stepped back into the room. He had his hands behind his back, posture straight, his expression unreadable. Sera’s pout softened instantly into something more uncertain, her brows furrowing as her gaze followed him.

“Elijah,” she said softly, voice tilting upward in a question, “whatchu’ hidin’?” And she leaned forward just slightly, towel slipping a fraction lower at her chest, as if daring him to finally show her.

Smoke stood just inside the doorway, shoulders squared as if bracing against a storm, though the weight pressing down on him was not an enemy in the street but the fragile moment in this room. His jaw tightened once, then loosened as he took a careful breath, forcing himself to keep his face as still as stone. Yet when he moved toward Sera, the stiffness in his steps betrayed the nerves clawing at his chest.

He stopped before her, then lowered himself down onto one knee, his towel secured at his hips, his broad frame bending with a solemnity rare for him. The boards creaked faintly under his weight. For a long heartbeat he stayed there, eyes fixed on hers, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

Stack let out a low sound, part sigh and part laugh, then dropped down beside his brother with a thud, his knees hitting the floor at the same height. He mirrored Smoke’s posture, resting his forearms on his thighs, his grin crooked but his eyes shining with a seriousness that did not come often to him.

Smoke cleared his throat, his large hand slipping from behind his back, fingers tight around a small wooden box. He held it steady even though his pulse raced like a train on iron rails. He exhaled, then opened his mouth. “We want to make an honest woman outta you, Seraphim,” he said, voice rougher than usual, words carrying the tremor of sincerity. “You ain’t just sum’ warm for us to hold. An we know what we got ain’t what folks call normal… but we love you. Ain’t no denyin’ that.”

Before his breath had fully faded, Stack leaned closer, his arm brushing Smoke’s as if their twin bond demanded it. “He’s right,” he said, his tone unusually level, though his smile tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth. “He love you an I love you, Seraphim. Never felt this way ‘bout a woman before. I don’t want no one else by my side. Not now. Not ever.”

Smoke glanced at him, half-irritated by the interruption, but Stack only smirked and nudged his shoulder before looking back at Sera. They began to speak over each other, back and forth in a rhythm like a song only they could play. Smoke insisting that she was theirs. Stack promising her the world. Smoke declaring he wanted her name tied to theirs. Stack vowing he would never let her slip away. The air filled with their confessions until it grew thick with heat and devotion, their voices weaving into one steady plea.

Sera’s eyes widened as tears swelled, spilling until they slid hot down her cheeks. Her mouth quivered before breaking into a radiant smile, and then she let out a squeal of joy so pure it filled every corner of the room.

Smoke opened the box, and the ring inside caught the light. A simple gold band cradling a diamond, the edges rimmed with a tiny red and blue stone that shimmered like fire and water locked in embrace. Sera gasped louder, the tears falling faster as her hand flew to her mouth. She didn’t need to ask what the colors meant… she knew. They were her men, she was theirs, and the whole world would see it in the sparkle of that band.

Stack reached out with hands steadier than they had ever been and slid the ring onto her finger. For a heartbeat, the smile on her face wavered, and she stared down at her hand as if the weight of it brought a new reality crashing down. Her voice rushed forward in a flurry of words, spilling faster than she could catch them.

“I’ll need a dress, won’t I? Somethin’ real pretty, somethin’ white maybe… or cream… an where will we do it? A church? No, maybe outside, though the weather… what if it rains? An the guests, we’ll need guests, but—” Her words cut off, strangled by the silence that dropped on her shoulders all at once. Her smile crumbled, the joy sliding away as her thoughts struck the raw truth. Her father was gone. The house she once knew was no longer hers. She had no friends, no familiar faces, no one to invite to witness what should have been the most holy, joyous moment of her life.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes fell to the ring again, and the tears that had once sparkled with joy now spilled with a quieter grief.

Smoke moved fast. He wouldn’t let this moment rot. His hand cupped her face, large palm firm and warm against her damp cheek, tilting her gaze back to him. His thumb brushed away the tears before they could trail down further. “Hey… Hey… Don’t worry ‘bout none of that right now,” he said, his voice steady, commanding but gentle. “Ceremony can wait. We can work out the details later. You hear me?”

She blinked at him, eyes wide and wet.

Smoke leaned closer, his forehead brushing hers, his voice lowering until it wrapped around her like a promise. “You in a new city now. Ya father’s shadow ain’t over you no more. Religion can’t cage you. You got a chance to live. To make friends. To build somethin’ for yaself. An you got us… that’s enough for today.”

Stack grabbed her wrist and placed kisses on it as if he was grounding her in his devotion. His grin softened, no mockery in it, only reassurance. “He’s right, sunshine. You got family now. Us.”

And for the first time since the tears fell, Sera let out a shaky laugh, her hand flying up to cover her eyes as though she couldn’t believe the life she now lived.

Stack leaned in close, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he slid himself between Smoke and Sera. His lips brushed along the curve of her damp neck, soft at first, then firmer as he pressed kisses down her skin, tasting the salt of her tears mingled with the heat of her body. His voice came husky against her throat, threaded with rough affection. “You hear me, little dove?” he whispered, his mouth dragging lower toward her collarbone. “Only tears of joy ‘round us. That’s all we gon’ allow.”

Before she could answer, his hands tugged at the knot of her towel. The fabric loosened and fell away, pooling in a forgotten heap beside her on the bed. A startled giggle slipped from her lips as Stack maneuvered her, positioning her at the very center of the mattress. He loomed above her on his knees, shoulders squared, gaze raking over every inch of her bare frame.

Even though she had been exposed to them countless times before—bathing her, dressing her… fingers exploring her… tongues teasing her—something about Stack’s stare still sent a flush racing over her skin. Her chest rose and fell faster beneath the weight of it, cheeks warming, lashes lowering as though she could hide from the intensity burning in his eyes.

Stack caught it instantly, the way her ebony skin colored with embarrassment, and his grin stretched, wolfish and pleased. He let his head tilt, golden tooth flashing as he spoke. “Can’t get enough of it. You always blush like a sinner caught prayin’, an I’m addicted to watchin’ it bloom.”

His hand followed his words, finger tracing lightly from her collarbone down the flat of her stomach, slow enough that her body quivered beneath the touch. When he reached just above her mound, he paused, lips parting, tongue dragging briefly over his bottom lip as if he were already savoring her taste in his mind.

Then, with a deliberate slowness that made her thighs twitch, he parted her folds with two fingers. The sight of her glistening heat stole the grin from his mouth, replacing it with something darker, heavier. He bent his head slightly, eyes fixed unblinking on the twitching nub revealed to him.

“An down here,” he said, voice low, words laced with hunger. “I love it most when you blush down here for me…”

The air thickened, the room shrinking to nothing but the three of them and the steady hum of desire that seemed to climb the walls and seep into the very boards beneath the bed.

Stack’s fingers moved slow at first, two knuckles gliding along the seam of her heat before easing inside, the water-slick sound of her body greeting him with a noise that sent his own breath stuttering. His head dipped lower, gaze locked on the way her folds welcomed him, shining under the fading sunlight. His thumb teased the pear of sensitivity he exposed, rubbing small circles until her thighs quivered against the bedspread. A deep groan crawled from his chest, guttural and unrestrained.

“Fuck, sunshine,” he muttered, eyes fixed below. “Soft as butter, wet as a summer storm… tight like we ain’t been stretchin’ you out with our fingers everyday.” His finger curled and her body clamped around him, making him bite down on his lip with a hiss. He forced his eyes up just long enough to catch hers, his grin wicked. “You drink that tea today?”

“Yes sir,” she whispered, quick and obedient, the blush deepening across her cheeks as she squirmed.

Stack cut his eyes sideways toward Smoke, who had moved from his place on the floor. The older twin now sat stretched against the headboard, the towel gone from his waist, his muscular shoulders sinking into the wood. He slid his hands down and caught Sera’s thighs, spreading her open with an ease that made her breath catch, angling her just right for Stack’s eager inspection.

Stack’s grin widened, his attention dropping back to her trembling center. “We safe to keep goin’?”

Smoke didn’t waste words. His jaw flexed once, his gaze darkened as it burned over Sera’s bare form. Then he gave a single, steady nod, hands tightening against the back of her thighs until her knees drew closer to her chest.

That was all Stack needed. He returned his full focus to her core, watching his fingers disappear into her. His thumb toyed with her nub again, a wet smack sounding in the quiet as his palm pressed firm against her mound. His voice dropped to a gravelly drawl. “List ‘em for me, doll. Every filthy thing we done to you so far.”

Her breath hitched, lashes fluttering. She shook her head faintly, lips parting but no words coming. Her eyes flicked up to Smoke, pleading for reprieve.

Smoke didn’t waver. His face softened at the edges, but his voice carried weight when it cut across the room. “Say it, little wife. Ya husband asked you somethin’. Don’t hold back.”

Her body shook under their combined stares. She whined, the sound thin and needy, then stammered, “Y-you touched me… down there… an ya mouths… ya hands—”

Stack’s brow arched. “That all?”

She pressed her lips together, trying to dodge the vulgar truth, offering only the vague shell of it.

Smoke’s gaze sharpened. He caught her face in his line of sight, studying the defiance in her quivering mouth. His tone turned deceptively gentle. “You remember ya safe word, baby?”

Her nervous eyes darted back up to him and she gave a tiny nod.

Without warning, his palm cracked against her drenched heat, the sound sharp, her juices splashing against her skin. She jolted, a strangled cry tumbling free, the sting blooming hot between her thighs. Smoke’s voice was low, firm, the edge of command unmistakable. “Then answer the fuckin’ question, doll.”

The room tightened with sexual tension, her chest rising in uneven waves as her eyes glossed with both embarrassment and desire. Stack’s fingers never stopped their slow, tormenting strokes, his smile curved with satisfaction as he waited for her to finally give in and put words to her shame. His laugh rolled out low and amused, the kind of sound that vibrated in his chest before spilling into the space between them. His eyes stayed locked on her glistening heat, his fingers still spreading her folds as he spoke, his voice cutting through the tension with raw, unflinching filth.

“Ight, sunshine, since you strugglin’ to find ya tongue, I’ll help you remember.” His grin sharpened, his thumb circling her clit just enough to make her back arch. “Our fingers been inside this sweet pussy, stretchin’ you open. We stuffed that pretty ass with a gem, keepin’ you plugged like you belong to us. Our tongues been deep in ya cooze, lickin’ you raw ‘til you cried our names.”

The words dripped like honey mixed with sin, and her face flamed with color, her body trembling under the weight of his vulgar truth.

“Now,” Stack grunted, his hunger deepening, his eyes burning with a dangerous kind of delight, “repeat it.”

Sera’s lips parted, her voice stammering, uncertain. “I… I can’t—”

Smoke’s hand cut through the air, landing with another sharp smack against her dripping core. The sound cracked like lightning, her thighs jolting as slick water coated her inner thighs. A high whine tore from her throat, her body twitching with both pain and arousal.

Stack’s chuckle returned, darker this time. “Look at that, Elijah. Our little wife drippin’ more from gettin’ spanked. Maybe she likes the sting as much as the sweet.”

His fingers slipped free, leaving her fluttering and empty, and he brought his palm down again with a wet slap that echoed through the room. Her hips bucked helplessly, the mix of sting and want coursing through her veins like fire.

Stack leaned lower, his broad shoulders dipping until his head hovered just above her entrance. His breath fanned hot across her swollen folds as he dragged a finger down, teasing her slit before pressing lightly against the jade gem still snug in her backside. The faint tap sent a shiver racing up her spine.

“You want Daddy to make you cum?” he asked, voice thick, teasing, but deadly serious beneath the surface.

Sera’s chest heaved, her lashes fluttering, and she gave the smallest, shyest nod, her heat spreading down her chest like spilled wine.

Stack clicked his tongue, not satisfied. His palm tapped the gem again, gentle but firm, a reminder of their control over every part of her.

Smoke reached from behind her, his hand cupping her jaw, thumb brushing away the lone tear that had escaped down her cheek. His eyes softened, but his tone carried an edge that left no room for evasion. “Don’t just nod, little wife,” he murmured, voice sweet but laced with dominance. “Tell us what you want.”

Her body quivered, caught between shame, need, and obedience, the weight of their combined stares pressing her into the mattress until she could hardly breathe.

Smoke peeped and his voice went extra soft, that rare sweetness laced into his tone as his hands steadied Sera’s trembling thighs. His thumb brushed tender circles against her skin, his words coaxing without the sharp edge he so often carried. “Don’t fight it, love,” he whispered, dipping his head so his forehead nearly touched hers. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with sayin’ the truth. You can be free with us.” His tone promised sanctuary, but his grip never loosened, pinning her open for his brother’s hungrier work.

Stack, on the other hand, played no part in gentleness. He spread kisses down the insides of her thighs, his mouth dragging wet paths that made her legs twitch. When his teeth sank into the tender flesh, her squeal filled the air, cut off by a moan when his tongue soothed the sting. He worked his way closer, until his mouth latched onto her nub, sucking it deep between his lips with a sound that rattled through her chest.

At the same time, his hand twisted against the jade buried in her backside, tugging it just enough to make her gasp and then pushing it back in with pressure that forced a cry from her throat. He repeated it again and again, pulling, pushing, each shift stopping just shy of slipping it all the way free. Between licks he let words spill directly into her heat, the vibrations shuddering through her core.

“This pretty toy? Ain’t gon’ be in there long. Sooner or later, doll, it’s gettin’ replaced with somethin’ thicker. Somethin’ that makes you scream.”

Sera writhed, her eyes rolling back, her voice tangled between whimpers and gasps. Her hands clawed uselessly at the sheets as if she could steady herself, but there was no escape. She tried to close her thighs, tried to twist away from the overwhelming flood of sensation, but Smoke wouldn’t allow it. He shifted, rising onto his knees, leaning his weight forward as he spread her wide again, his face hovering close enough to watch every flick of Stack’s tongue, every twitch of her soaked folds.

Sera moaned loudly when her gaze tilted upward and landed on Smoke’s heavy length dangling just above her face. It was the closest she had ever been allowed to see him like this with no interruption, the sight was both terrifying and intoxicating. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in every thick inch, the way the chocolate head gleamed with a clear pearl of arousal already pebbled at the tip.

Her fingers shook, but boldness overcame hesitation. She reached upward and wrapped her hand around him, stroking him softly, carefully, like she was learning a sacred secret. Smoke groaned above her, his body going rigid, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she leaned her head up the slightest inch and let her tongue dart out, lapping across the bead of wetness that crowned him.

The reaction was immediate. Smoke stilled, his whole frame locking up like a deer startled in a clearing. His hands slipped from her thighs, pressing instead into the mattress on either side of her body as he fought for control, his chest heaving with the force of restraint. The sudden release gave Sera the chance she needed. She clamped her thick thighs closed, trembling, desperate for reprieve.

Stack lifted his head, irritation flashing in his eyes as he wiped her wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nigga,” he growled, brows furrowed, “I’m tryna eat our woman. Fuck is you doin’ lettin’ her shut them legs?”

Smoke’s eyes were squeezed shut, his knuckles whitening against the sheets. His jaw flexed hard enough to ache as a guttural sound rumbled from deep in his chest. “She’s…” he grunted, teeth gritted, “she… fuck… she’s… lickin’ me.”

Stack blinked, confused, his brows knitting tighter. “What? Can’t hear you with all that stutterin’. Speak the fuck up.”

Smoke’s eyes cracked open, blazing uncontrolled lust as he cut Stack a glare sharp enough to slice through lava. His voice came out rough, cracked with disbelief and hunger. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, “’cause she’s lickin’ me right now.”

Smoke let out another guttural groan when Sera’s tongue slid along the sensitive head of his dick, his hips jerking against her palm before he caught himself. He let her stroke and lick for a moment longer, savoring the trembling curiosity in her touch, then growled low in his chest and flipped their bodies with practiced strength.

The mattress groaned as he rolled them, his large frame settling beneath hers, Sera now perched on top of his chest with her thighs spread wide across his face. He wasted no time as his mouth latched onto her pussy, tongue plunging deep, lips sealing against her folds as he devoured her with a hunger that had been building since the first day he laid eyes on her. The wet sounds of him feasting filled the room, each lap pulling louder moans from her lips.

“Keep explorin’, doll,” he rumbled between licks, the vibrations sending shocks through her core. “Don’t stop what you started.”

Stack shifted in front of her, his hand tangling into the back of her frizzy ginger curls. He tugged her head up, forcing her gaze to him as his own towel hit the floor, revealing his thick length standing tall in the low light. He smirked down at her, voice filthy but edged with amusement.

“You still ain’t repeated what I said,” he reminded her, rubbing the head of his length against her lips. “But… if you put that pretty mouth to better use, I’ll let you get a pass. Just this once.”

Her lust filled eyes flicked between her two husbands, the steady, overwhelming rhythm of Smoke’s mouth at her core, and the heavy, veined shaft Stack held inches from her mouth. She moaned helplessly, torn between sensation and curiosity, before leaning forward and letting her lips part.

Her tongue flicked out, tasting him cautiously at first, while her hand wrapped around Smoke’s dick beneath her, stroking him in long, tentative pulls. Stack groaned above her, eyes fluttering half-shut, but his voice stayed steady, instructive.

“Use ya hand tighter, baby… yeah, like that. Now twist, not too much. That’s it. Keep them pretty eyes on me.”

Sera followed, switching between licking his tip, taking him shallow into her mouth, then pulling back to pump him with her slick hands. Stack clenched his jaw, trying to keep patient, but his hunger grew too strong. He pressed her head forward, guiding her down his length.

“Relax ya throat,” he murmured through gritted teeth, “just breathe through ya nose.”

To his shock, she obeyed with ease, her throat opening far smoother than he expected. He slid deeper, nearly five inches of his nine-inch length disappearing past her lips. His brows furrowed, a look of disbelief flashing across his face as he quickly pulled her back.

Holding her jaw open, Stack squinted down her throat, his face twisted with curiosity like a doctor examining something rare. “Smoke,” he barked, his voice sharp.

Smoke groaned against Sera’s cunt, annoyed at the interruption, his mouth pulling back wet and glistening. “Nigga, I’m busy.”

Stack tugged on Sera’s jaw again, grinning like a man who had found buried treasure. “Nah, you gotta see this. Cmere. Right now!”

Smoke growled under his breath, slapped Sera’s jiggly ass hard enough to make her yelp, then shifted her off of him and sat up. “What the fuck do you want?” he snapped, annoyance thick like his Mississippi accent.

Stack’s grin widened as he angled Sera’s face up between them. “She ain’t got no gag reflex.”

Smoke froze, narrowing his eyes. “You lyin’.”

“Swear to God.” Stack’s voice dripped with mischief as he tilted her chin higher, keeping her mouth open for inspection.

Both men loomed over her now, shadows heavy across her flushed face as they bent low. Their eyes scanned the back of her throat, and almost in unison, they let out deep, guttural grunts of delight.

Sera’s brows furrowed, her voice breaking timidly. “What’s… what’s wrong with me? Why y’all lookin’ at me like that?”

Smoke’s eyes softened instantly. He reached out, brushing a coily curl behind her ear, his large palm warm against her cheek. He tilted her face until she was forced to look directly into his coffee brown eyes. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, Seraphim,” he whispered, his voice steady and full of adoration. “You ain’t lie ‘bout rememberin’ that word right?” he asked, his gaze fixed on hers. “Mercy. You give it if it’s too much. You hear me?”

She gave a quick nod, lips trembling, but Smoke wasn’t satisfied with only that. He tilted her chin higher, forcing her to keep his stare, his thumb dragging across her bottom lip. “Say it.”

“Mercy,” she whispered, her voice faint but clear, and both brothers exhaled like the sound anchored them.

“Good girl,” Smoke said, his mouth curling faintly. “Long as you know you safe, we gon’ keep pushin’.”

Stack hummed low in his chest and reached down, curling her delicate hand around his manhood, guiding her fingers until they wrapped firm around him. Smoke followed suit, taking her other hand and pressing it to himself, both men looming tall over her as if they were twin shadows cast by the same flame.

“Now, keep goin’,” Stack urged, his grin flashing wicked. “Show us what that pretty throat can do.”

Sera licked her lips nervously, eyes darting between them, then leaned forward and took Stack first, her mouth closing around his crown. He groaned deep, the sound vibrating through his chest, as she worked down further, inch by inch, her hand stroking what her throat couldn’t yet manage. When she finally gagged faintly at six inches, she pulled back with a wet gasp, eyes watering, lips slick, and Smoke’s chest rumbled with approval. “That’s it,” he praised, voice sharp but rich with heat. “You doin’ so good for us.”

She turned to him next, sliding her mouth over his dick, her hand stroking Stack in rhythm as her lips stretched around Smoke’s girth. His head tilted back, eyes half-closed, his hand brushing down her back in rare gentleness. “You tryna’ make ya husband lose his composure on night one?”

They traded her back and forth, letting her throat each of them in turn, her mouth glistening, her hands working, the air heavy with their mingled groans. Every time she managed six inches, they felt their own control unraveling, her untrained throat working like she was made for this. The mattress dipped as she shifted, her hips unconsciously grinding against the sheets, thighs squeezing together as if her body betrayed what her lips refused to say.

Both men noticed instantly.

Stack’s eyes light up with mischief, his grin turning dangerous as he watched her hips move. “Look at her, Smoke,” he drawled. “Pussy twitchin’ just from servicin’ us… Suckin’ dick got you blushin’ ‘tween them thighs, doll?”

Sera whimpered, eyes glassy as she looked up at them, her gaze pleading, begging them to see what she couldn’t bring herself to say.

Smoke’s gaze sharpened. “She thinkin’ we gon’ read her mind,” he said, gripping her jaw lightly to force her eyes on him. “But she know better. She gon’ use that mouth for more than lickin’. She gon’ tell us what she wants.”

Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she let her instincts take over. She held Stack’s rod in her hand and pressed it flat against her tongue, slapping it there with wet sounds that made his breath falter. She sucked him deep again, whimpering between gulps, her hand twisting around Smoke’s at the same time.

“I… I want more,” she whispered hoarsely when she pulled back, her voice breaking with desperation. “I need it… I need you inside.”

Stack bit down hard on his bottom lip. The sight of his woman wrecked and begging nearly undid him. He almost gave in right then, his body already leaning forward, ready to press her back and bury himself inside her tight heat. But Smoke’s arm shot out, his hand bracing hard against Stack’s heaving chest, halting him with a shove.

“Not yet,” Smoke growled, his calculated gaze cutting between his brother and the trembling girl below them. He turned back to Sera, his thumb brushing her swollen bottom lip, his expression unyielding. “You may get a pass on that other shit Stack wanted you to say, but not this one. If you want this dick, you gon’ say it plain. You tell us that you want us to take ya virginity. Out loud.”

Sera’s breath hitched, her body shivering beneath their looming frames, caught between her shy defiance and the weight of her own need. The silence pressed thick around them, waiting for her to break. Her lashes lowered as she tilted her head, cutting her eyes at Smoke in a way that carried more defiance than fear. Her pout returned, lips tugged into a bratty frown that made her look every bit the spoiled little wife she knew she was becoming under their roof.

Smoke caught it instantly. His jaw ticked as he arched one challenging brow, the sharp gleam in his eyes promising consequences. He didn’t call her out right then, but he filed it away, the laundry list of bratty infractions she owed punishment for already longer than she could handle. This little look, this sharp cut of her eyes, would be added to it.

Sera’s mind drifted briefly, Annie’s voice threading through the haze of desire and tension. Your pleasure belongs to you. Don’t let nobody convince you otherwise. The words pushed her spine against the pillows at the head of the bed, her small rebellion sparking to life in a way Smoke had not anticipated. She dragged herself back on the mattress, shoulders sinking into the mountain of cushions, and shifted her attention to Stack, who was already hovering close and clearly not interested in following Smoke’s strict command.

Her fingers trembled, but she set them to her thighs anyway, spreading herself open with a shy, daring movement that sent both brothers’ attention narrowing on her. Her voice came small, pleading, almost broken. “Elias… please?”

The name itself burned through the room like incense. Stack froze, the sound of his own name—his real name, the one so few dared to use—rushing through him like whiskey in his veins. Flashbacks tore through his mind unbidden: the first time she whispered Elias in the dark, the first time she begged him to use his mouth on her, the night she passed out from his tongue. Every memory hit him at once, thick and heavy, and his dick throbbed with such force that he whined. His body moved on instinct, half a second from climbing into the bed and claiming her.

Smoke let out a long, annoyed sigh, his patience thinning to threads. His voice rumbled across the room, low and irritated. “Stack. Don’t you fuckin’ do it. Don’t give her nothin’ ‘til she say what’s asked of her.”

Stack clicked his tongue, his grin sharp and dismissive, eyes still locked on Sera’s trembling body. “Tch. We can worry ‘bout trainin’ her proper later, nigga. Pussy callin’ me right now.”

Smoke huffed deep in his throat, but Stack had already leaned forward, pressing his mouth against Sera’s damp skin. He kissed a hot, greedy path up her trembling stomach, over the soft curves of her breasts, until his lips crashed into hers. The kiss was messy, passionate, tongues colliding as if he wanted to taste every ounce of defiance spilling from her.

His hand forced her legs wider, spreading her beneath him, his length nudging insistently against her tight entrance. He grounded forward just enough for her body to feel the hard press of him, teasing her with what she was begging for without giving it fully. His teeth grazed her bottom lip as he spoke into her mouth, the words rough, almost lost in the wet heat of their kiss. “Say it, baby,” he demanded against her tongue, his hips grinding again. “Keep sayin’ please. Beg me, doll. Say it ‘til I can’t hear nothin’ else.”

Her whimper melted into his mouth, and her hands flew to his shoulders, pulling him closer, her thighs trembling wide open as she gasped his name again, desperate, needy, wrecked.

Smoke stayed where he was for a long moment with a narrowed expression as he watched Stack and Sera tangle themselves in that fevered kiss. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, his bigger frame pressing her deeper into the pillows, their tongues locked, her muffled whimpers breaking against his mouth. Smoke could’ve stepped in. He could’ve dragged Stack back by his short curls and put a stop to it. But instead, he leaned back a fraction and made a mental note: I’ll punch that nigga in the chest later for givin’ in so easy.

He let the heat between them burn unchecked while he turned and strode purposeful across the room. One of their suitcases sat half-open at the foot of the bed, clothes and tools of their trade spilling inside. Smoke crouched, broad hand digging through until he found what he was looking for: a small glass bottle, dark and stoppered tight, its label worn from travel. Bo’s handwriting scrawled across it crooked and bold, the man’s mark of authenticity.

Smoke clicked his tongue against his teeth as he stood again, giving the bottle a quick shake before tossing it onto the mattress beside Stack’s hip. The glass thudded softly into the sheets, catching Sera’s attention for just a heartbeat before Stack’s mouth reclaimed hers.

“Don’t matter how wet she is,” Smoke said, his voice carrying that steady weight, that sharp authority that made the air shift. He dropped down into the nearby chair, the wood creaking under his frame as he reached for the decanter resting on the dresser. He poured himself a heavy glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the glow of the lamp as it slid into the crystal.

He lifted it to his lips, took one measured swallow, and then pointed the rim of the glass toward the bed. “Use that oil on her. An’ pull that plug out ‘fore divin’ in. She ain’t ready to be filled like that yet.”

His tone left no room for argument. Smoke’s eyes lingered on Sera’s trembling body, her thighs spread wide, Stack’s length still teasing at her entrance. The command wasn’t for her, it was for his twin. Stack might’ve been reckless, ready to drown himself in her without thought, but Smoke made sure the rules were laid down before that happened.

And as he settled deeper into his chair, swirling the brown liquor in his glass, his gaze sharpened, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. He would let Stack indulge and he would let Sera push her bratty luck. But every second of it, he was watching, planning, filing away punishments and promises for later.

Stack finally tore his mouth from Sera’s, his lips wet and swollen, his grin glinting faint with that dangerous gold. He let her catch one shaky breath before he slid down her body, his kisses trailing messily across her stomach, her hips twitching beneath him until he settled between her thighs. His big hands pressed her knees wider, his hungry eyes settling on the sight of her swollen, needy core glistening with want.

Without hesitation, he latched onto her, tongue dragging flat from her entrance to her button of sensitivity, circling and sucking until she jolted against the pillows. His fingers found the jade plug, pressing and twisting it inside her until the rounded gem nudged right against her sweet spot. The combination made her cry out, a muffled little sound she tried to bury behind her hand.

Stack’s palm cracked hard against her ass, the sting echoing sharp in the room. “Don’t you dare hide from us, little dove,” he growled against her flesh, his breath hot over her mound. “Let us hear every bit of it.”

Sera whimpered, biting her lip, but still she tried to keep her voice restrained, her body shuddering under the assault of sensation.

Smoke’s voice cut through, calm but commanding, carried on the slow swirl of his whiskey glass. “Ain’t no need to be quiet, love. This is ya home now. You can be as loud as you damn well please.”

Stack hummed his agreement, the vibration buzzing through her clit as he sucked harder. His hand smacked her ass again, rougher this time, leaving her gasping as her thighs trembled open wider. Her hands flew down, clawing at his shoulders, fingernails scraping red marks into his back as her body convulsed.

Her eyes dilated and went unfocused, her head tipping back as she felt it… the sharp climb, that unmistakable pull in her belly. She knew what was coming, that type of release she dreaded and craved, the one that would break her in half and drown her in pleasure. She cried his name, a desperate plea, as her whole body arched. Stack only smirked against her skin, his tongue never faltering. He flicked her clit mercilessly, pressing the plug deeper against her sweet spot, dragging his lips back and forth across her slit until the inevitable snapped.

Her orgasm tore through her violently, her body jerking as liquid rushed free, spraying against his mouth, his chin, his chest. The sheets beneath her dampened instantly, but Stack only groaned his approval, holding her thighs open wider as he lapped greedily at the mess she made.

“Fuck yes,” he rasped, eyes closing as he slurped her nectar down, the lewd sound filling the room. “That’s it, doll, give it all to me.” He shifted his focus from her clit to her entrance, thrusting his tongue deep inside, fucking her with wet strokes as his nose pressed hard against her clit. Every sound she made, every whimper and wail, he swallowed down with her sweetness, licking and drinking like a man starved.

Sera sobbed from overstimulation, nails dragging across his back, legs trembling uncontrollably as Stack drank from her like she was the only thing in the world that could quench his thirst.

When her sensitivity became unbearable, Stack reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her soaked folds with a groan, lips shining with the mess he made her give to him. He pressed one more kiss against her quivering thigh before reaching for the jade still nestled inside her. His expert fingers wrapped around it, and with a slow twist and tug he drew it free, slick and glistening. Sera whined, her hips jerking from the sensation, her whole body still shivering from the force of her release.

He grabbed the bottle of oil Smoke had tossed earlier, his hand steady despite the tremors still rippling through her. He drizzled a stream across her convulsing core, the warm sheen catching the glow as he rubbed it in with wide, careful circles. His touch softened, turning worshipful, pressing kisses up her stomach, across her ribs, up the valley of her breasts as if he could calm her trembling flesh with reverence alone. Her gasps eased from sharp cries to light panting, her thighs still twitching but no longer seizing uncontrollably beneath him.

Stack leaned back onto his knees, his dick rigid and throbbing against his stomach. He poured oil into his palm and coated himself, long strokes leaving his shaft glistening, the scent of it mingling with her sweetness. He looked down at her through heavy lashes, his grin faint but his voice low, coaxing.

“Take a deep breath, beautiful.”

Sera’s lip quivered as she nodded, nervously biting down on the soft flesh before her gaze flicked up to meet his. She inhaled shakily, her chest rising and falling in uneven waves. Stack angled himself at her entrance and pressed forward, the thick head of his shaft stretching her inch by inch. She gasped, nails digging into the sheets, her eyes squeezing shut as the sharp sting of being filled for the first time spread through her.

“One inch,” Stack whispered against her cheek, his thumb brushing over her clit in a soft circle. “That’s it, baby. Just breathe. You takin’ me so good already.”

She whimpered, her thighs twitching against his sides. When she began to relax, he eased in further, slow and steady, giving her another inch. His breath stuttered in his throat at the heat of her, his thumb never stopping its gentle rhythm.

“That’s two,” he praised, kissing the corner of her mouth. “You can do it, sweetheart. You ours… You was made for this… Made for us...”

By the time he pushed in four inches, her body locked tight, her nails dragging red lines down his stomach. Her head tipped back against the pillows, a strangled cry escaping her as her body convulsed. The pleasure and pain tangled until it broke, another orgasm ripping from her prematurely, leaving her trembling and gasping in shock.

Stack cursed low, his jaw locking as her walls seized around him, clamping down so tightly he nearly lost control right there. Her pussy fluttered and squeezed, convulsions wringing every nerve in his body, milking him as if begging for his seed.

“FUCKKK…” he groaned, his voice rough, desperate. “Baby, relax! P-Please relax—‘fore I lose it—”

But she only tightened further, her spasms shoving him out as her release drenched his shaft. He fell back slightly, dick bobbing violently as a hot spurt of precum escaped, smearing across her folds. His hand flew to his base, gripping himself tight, strangling the urge to spill the rest inside her too soon. His chest heaved, breath ragged, his whole body quaking as he fought his primal need.

Every nerve screamed at him to dive back in, to split her open and take her like one of the dolls he once ruined in the past. But Sera wasn’t a toy. She wasn’t a slut to be used and discarded. She was their wife, and their first time with her had to be careful, no matter how badly his dick ached to break that rule.

Stack squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisted in torment, before finally cutting his gaze toward his brother. Smoke sat smugly in his chair, glass still in hand as he tipped back the last swallow of whiskey. He chuckled, low and knowing, the sound carrying that arrogant bite only he could manage. “Should’ve known better than to play with her button after makin’ her gush in ya mouth. She too sensitive now, fool.”

Stack glared, still panting, his hand white-knuckled around his dick.

Smoke leaned forward, setting the glass down with a soft clink. His gaze flicked over Sera’s twitching body sprawled across the bed, then down to the way Stack trembled. He hummed in amusement, slow and drawn out, before palming himself. “Ya’ll think I put rules in place just for the hell of it? Now you see why I do things the way I do. You need me to step in?” he asked, voice low and taunting. “‘Fore you nut inside her like sum’ teenager that ain’t never touched pussy before?”

Stack’s teeth bared, his chest still heaving. “Ain’t my fault,” he snapped, his voice raw, desperate. “Her cooze got a tight grip!”

Smoke’s smirk deepened as he finally pushed up from his chair, his broad frame casting shadow over them both. His dick stood thick and heavy, still rock hard and glistening at the tip. His hand wrapped around it as he gave it one long, slow stroke. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he muttered with sarcasm, his eyes lingering on Sera’s wrecked body. He hummed again, this time darker, hungrier, as he stepped toward the bed with the confidence of a man who had no intention of spilling too early.

Stack’s shoulders heaved as he grumbled beneath his breath, his pride stung and his body still quaking from the edge he had nearly tumbled over. He shifted to the side of the bed, jaw working, teeth grinding faintly as he made space. His eyes followed Smoke’s every move, sharp with irritation, but there was no real fight left in him. He knew better than to argue when his brother slipped into command.

Smoke tilted his head as he looked down at Sera’s twitching frame sprawled across the sheets. Her chest still fluttered with uneven breaths, her thighs damp and bucking from overstimulation. He ran his broad hands down her body, fingers spreading over her hips, her stomach, her ribs, as if reacquainting himself with every inch that was theirs. A small tsk rolled from his tongue, soft but full of meaning, as though he disapproved of how wrecked she already looked.

With a steady motion, he grabbed a pillow and slid it beneath her hips, angling her just so, perfecting the position with the precision of a craftsman adjusting his finest work. He reached for the bottle of oil, uncorked it with one hand, and poured a generous amount into his palm. His manhood stood thick and demanding, nine inches of veined heat, and he stroked himself slowly, coating every inch until it gleamed slick in the lamplight.

Bending low, Smoke pressed his forehead to Sera’s, his eyes locked on hers, his voice dropping into a tone both adorning and commanding. “Breathe with me, my love. You gon’ take me, but you gon’ do it calm. You still remember ya word?”

Her lips trembled. She gave the smallest nod, her hands clutching at his arms as if anchoring herself.

“Good girl,” he whispered, brushing his mouth over her temple as he guided the broad crown of his length against her entrance. He eased forward, pressing slow, the first stretch pulling a whine from her throat. “Don’t fight it,” Smoke murmured, his voice steady, his breath fanning across her lips. “Mimic me.”

He inhaled deep, exhaled steady, guiding her through it, his eyes never leaving hers. She followed, shaky at first, but her body softened with each synchronized breath. Inch by inch, he sank into her. Past the point where Stack had stopped. Past the four-inch barrier that had broken her resolve. Her walls fluttered around him, but her body obeyed his command to relax.

“Perfect,” he muttered, voice rough with the strain of control. “That’s perfect. Keep breathin’ with me.”

He pressed deeper still, each breath drawing him further into her until at last he was fully seated, buried to the hilt in her untouched heat. His poker face slipped then, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, his jaw slackening as the perfection of her cunt wrapped around him like she had been crafted solely for his pleasure. His stomach trembled with restraint, the dominant urge to drill her into the mattress roaring through his blood, but he caged it down.

Sera’s face pinched, her thighs shaking, her hands clutching tighter. “So full,” she whined, her voice high and shaky. She pointed weakly to the top of her stomach, just below her ribs. “E-Elijahhhhh… it’s up here. I feel you-u… all the way up here.”

Smoke twitched hard inside her, his control tested by the innocence of her words. He ground his teeth together and forced a shallow stroke, pulling back and pressing forward with careful precision. “You takin’ it,” he rasped, “an you takin’ it good.”

Her voice grew breathy, broken with moans. “Feels so good… y’all make me feel so good… My head’s—” she moaned louder, squirming beneath him, “—it’s gettin’ fuzzy again.”

The sound alone nearly undid him. Smoke’s grip tightened on her thighs, his dick throbbing deep inside as he pressed his forehead against hers harder, using his soldier restraint to keep himself from losing control. “Quiet now,” he growled, though his voice cracked with need. “If you don’t want me losin’ it like Stack, I need you to hush for a minute.”

Beside them, Stack’s eyes darkened as he watched the scene unfold. His hand stroked his own excitement as his gaze fixed on the sight of Sera writhing beneath his brother. He pumped himself in rhythm with her moans, each sound driving his hunger higher. His grin was gone now, replaced with a heavy, feral hunger. He waited, patient but straining, for his turn to feel her heat again.

Smoke kept himself steady inside her, every movement exacting and controlled, the kind of restraint that set his muscles tumbling from the inside out. Each time he eased in she made a small, helpless sound, and every time he drew back her channel tightened around him as if she wanted to trap him there forever. He pressed a wet kiss to the soft skin at her temple and his voice came out roughened.

Sera’s eyes were blown wide with a kind of stunned rapture, and she instinctively rolled her hips against him, letting her body find the rhythm even when her mind hadn’t. The motion made her grip him harder, and that tightening stole his breath for a beat; it made him want to bury himself and forget his rules. She wanted more with a hunger that trembled through her fingers, wanted so badly that it sounded like a small prayer when she sighed it. Her mouth worked around a bitten bottom lip and, almost without thinking, one hand slid down to seek the place that had been made raw and bright by Stack’s attention.

He caught her wrist before she could touch herself, his palm closing over it and holding it pinned above her head with a firmness that was both possession and protection. The catch in her exhalation was small but telling, needy and thin like a thread that might snap if pulled too hard.

“More,” she breathed, the single word trembling on her tongue, the want in it bleeding clean and raw. “Moree… I want… I want more…”

Smoke let out a sound that was part warning and part longing, a low rasp against her skin. He rocked his hips in a shallow, careful arc that kept his depth measured, keeping the pressure and not surrendering to the urge that wanted to bury him deeper and never stop. “You don’t know what you askin’ for, Seraphim,” he said, voice thick but steady. “If I give you more, I ain’t gon’ stop till I fuck you like a whore. Right now we bein’ patient… bein’ gentle, ‘cause we love you… we care ‘bout you.”

But Sera was too far gone to hear reason, her voice cracking as she writhed beneath him, nails digging crescents into his wrist and shoulders. Her head lifted, eyes glassy with lust and need, her lips quivering as she pleaded. “I can take it… please… Elijahhhh, I can take more-e-e... G-Gimme more!”

Smoke grounded his teeth together so hard his temples throbbed, and a sharp line cut deep between his brows. He pulled back just enough to glare down into her eyes. He wanted to believe her, wanted to drown himself in the raw want she was spilling, but his gut clenched with the knowledge that if he gave her what she begged for, he would unleash something she wasn’t ready to survive… yet.

Then Stack’s voice slithered in, slick and venomous. “Let me back inside her cooze,” he rasped, stroking his dick lazily in his fist, his eyes burning with hunger. “You take her ass, brother. We fill her together.”

Smoke’s head snapped to him, the movement sharp, his gaze slicing like steel. “I already told you she ain’t ready to be stuffed like that her first night.” His voice was edged, each word clipped, vibrating with irritation barely leashed.

Sera’s pout came back instantly, bratty defiance slipping free of the haze that blurred her better judgment. Her thighs twitched against his hips as she whined, “I’m a grown woman! I-I can take both of you.”

Smoke barked out a laugh, but it was no sound of amusement. It was sharp, dry, and cruel. His eyes narrowed as his lips curled in frustration. “You almost passed out from four fuckin’ inches. You think you gettin’ double filled tonight? Not a goddamn chance.”

Her frown deepened, her whines rolling out of her like spoiled prayers that grated against his ears. Stack leaned closer, that wicked grin flashing as he played the devil to her angel act. “She beggin’ for it, nigga. Let her try. She tougher than you think.”

Smoke’s nostrils flared as his patience finally cracked apart. His whole frame tightened, the muscles in his arms bulging as he pressed her harder into the mattress. His voice broke out in a growl, each word slammed like a hammer, heavy and deliberate. “Both of you… shut… the… fuck… UP.”

He was fed up as he pulled out of her in one motion and flipped her over onto her stomach, the mattress bouncing under the force. Sera gasped, her cheek pressing into the pillows, her body scrambling to adjust as his hands manhandled her like a doll. He angled her hips up with rough precision, shoving the pillow back beneath her until her ass tilted perfectly for him. His neck cracked as he rolled his head once, spreading her cheeks apart with his broad hands, his breath hot against her ear.

“Careful what you ask for, doll,” he rasped, the menace in his voice sending a tremor through the air. “I’ll give you more, but you only gettin’ five percent. That’s it.”

Sera’s muffled whimpering poured into the pillow. “I can take it all. A hunnid percent! Both of you.”

Stack threw his head back and laughed, the sound sharp and wild. He crawled toward the headboard and leaned forward, rubbing his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, smearing the spit and tears already gathering there. “Sunshine, you got a mouth on you tonight. You wanna test that request? Then listen close… tap my thigh three times if you can’t say ya safe word. Understand?”

Confusion flickered across her face, brows knitting as if she didn’t fully grasp what he meant. She opened her mouth to ask but Smoke’s palm cracked hard across her ass, the sting blooming hot across her skin. She yelped, her protest cut off as Stack seized the chance, gripping her curls tight and shoving his dick past her lips. Half his length slid into her throat, thick and unforgiving, muffling her cries into wet gags that vibrated along his shaft.

Smoke groaned deep from his chest as he shoved himself back into her heat, the oil-slick stretch forcing another scream that was swallowed down around Stack’s shaft. Her body seized, convulsing, her walls gripping Smoke like a vice, her throat tightening around Stack as she tried to keep up with both.

The twins groaned in unison, the sound raw and guttural, filling the room like thunder.

They wasted no time. Smoke’s hips ground forward, his pipe drilling into her walls with more force than before, testing the edges of her stretched heat. Stack tightened his grip in her hair, guiding her mouth up and down his length, fucking her throat with rough thrusts that made his own eyes roll back.

Their wife, quivering and soaked between them, had finally given them the excuse they had both been waiting for… to test what she had to offer.

The room filled with the symphony of flesh and breath. The slap of thighs against ass, the throaty groans of men holding themselves just barely in check, and the wet, obscene sounds spilling from Sera’s body. Smoke’s dick drove into her soaked pussy with a rhythm that left no doubt of his control, each thrust pulling from her a wet gush that echoed in the air like the smack of spilled water. His voice broke through the haze, low and erotic, threaded with rare slips of praise.

“Fuck, baby… you feel like heaven an hell all at once. Tight as a fist, slick as sin. You wringin’ me dry.”

Above her, Stack groaned with equal abandon. His hips snapped forward, stuffing her throat full of his meat, testing how deep she could take him. Her untrained mouth drooled uncontrollably, saliva spilling in sloppy strings down her chin, sliding over his shaft as he guided her head with both hands. He tilted his head back, his voice raw, eyes closing in pleasure.

“Fuckkk, doll… You a natural… You sloppy as hell an’ I fuckin’ love it. Look at this mess you makin’ all over me.” Stack’s voice cracked through the haze as strings of drool slid down her chin, dripping over his shaft, her muffled whimpers vibrating along his length until his hips jerked like he had been shocked. The sensation nearly broke him.

Smoke, buried in her gummy walls, felt her grip him hard enough as though she was trying to push him out even as she spasmed around him. His glare flicked upward, sharp and commanding. With a jerk of his chin, he cut the air. “Let her breathe,” he barked, voice edged with impatience.

Stack groaned low, reluctant but obedient, pulling back. His dick slid free of her throat with a wet pop, spit clinging to her swollen lips and stretched chin. She gasped desperately, chest heaving, sucking in ragged air.

Smoke wasn’t about to let her float too long. His palm pressed firm against the small of her back, grinding her spine into a deeper arch, lifting her hips until her reddened mocha ass tilted high and her needy pussy was spread open for him. His other hand slid between her slick thighs, finding her overworked clit with practiced precision. He circled it, cruel and steady, as he drilled back into her with brutal strokes that echoed wet through the room.

Her body jolted violently, her orgasm tearing through her like a dam that broke without warning. She screamed into the sheets, her pussy spasming hard, juices gushing around Smoke as though her body was desperate to keep him inside and kick him out simultaneously.

He groaned deep, refusing to let go, burying himself deeper, holding steady against the waves of her trembling body. His chest rumbled with satisfaction, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he watched her writhe. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Cum for us, just like a good little slut should.”

Her sobs twisted into cries of pleasure, raw and broken, her body shaking so hard her knees slipped on the soaked mattress. Still Smoke’s rhythm never faltered, his control terrifying, each thrust exact, each push more punishing than the last. He bent low, his chest flattening against her back, his mouth hot at her ear, the words spilling in a jagged whisper. “An’ you best remember somethin’, baby—” he slammed his hips forward, the slap wet and obscene, “—this right here? This is only five fuckin’ percent.”

Sera’s body was a euphoric mess beneath them, her face buried into the sheets as drool pooled beneath her chin, her sobs and cries tangled with the broken little moans that betrayed how much she enjoyed being used. Smoke carved into her from behind, each thrust wetter than the last, the sound of her gushing pussy filling the room. Stack still gripped her hair and returned to rutting into her throat, groaning every time her lips stretched wide around him and her spit slicked his shaft.

Both men were close… too close.

Smoke’s jaw flexed as his rhythm faltered for the first time, the edge of his release pressing hard against his control. He was seconds away from spilling deep inside her, painting her walls white, when Stack’s voice cut through his haze. “Look at her…” Stack groaned, his eyes wild as he stared down at Sera’s ruined face. “Cryin’ like the prettiest little doll… You want me to make ya soul leave ya body again? Yeahhh… You don’t wanna think anymore, huh? You want Daddy to fix you, huh?”

The words snapped something in Smoke. As much as he wanted to give in, he felt the danger in how close they were to pushing her too far. His chest rumbled, his voice breaking harshly from his throat.

“Cain!”

The word, sacred between them and meant only for when things went too far, hung heavy in the room. Stack froze mid-thrust, his grip on Sera’s curls loosening immediately. He raised his head, breathing hard, his eyes cutting sharply toward his twin.

Smoke’s hips stuttered, though he stayed buried deep inside her, his glare was hard and focused. “She needs air,” he growled.

Stack wiped drool from his chin with the back of his hand, his smirk slipping but not gone. “An she needs a break from ya pecker poundin’ her swollen pussy raw.”

They locked eyes, the air tight with tension. Both of them were right, both of them unwilling to give up the sweetness of her body completely.

“She too good,” Smoke muttered, voice cracking with restraint.

“Damn right she too good,” Stack shot back, his grin twisting into something sharp. “That’s why I don’t wanna stop.”

For a long moment it seemed neither would budge, the air vibrating with their ragged breathing and Sera’s whimpers. Then Smoke exhaled through his nose, dragging his tongue over his teeth. “Switch.”

Stack’s brows furrowed, reluctant, but when Smoke’s eyes narrowed, he let out a frustrated groan and pulled himself from Sera’s throat. Her head lolled forward, gasping for breath, strings of spit still dangling from her lips. Smoke pulled free from her wet heat at the same time, his length dripping with her slick and his own precum, her swollen folds twitching as they were left empty. They switched positions with a silent understanding, both of them moving with a sharp, restless hunger.

Smoke knelt at the head of the bed, his dick still rock-hard, and tilted Sera’s head back with one large hand. His eyes drank in the sight of her face—her chin wet, her cheeks streaked with tears, Stack’s precum glistening at the corners of her mouth. She looked wrecked, ruined, beautiful… Their perfect little doll...

Stack slid behind her, gripping her hips possessively as he gazed down at her core. Swollen. Wet. Covered in a glossy mix of her release and Smoke’s precum. He hissed through his teeth, the sound filthy. “Shit… look at her. Look at the mess you done made outta her.” His hands spread her open, groaning in delight at the way her folds glistened, her entrance still fluttering like it was begging to be filled again.

Both men, dripping with need, drank in the sight of their wife’s body and the evidence of how completely she belonged to them.

Smoke’s hand tightened at the back of Sera’s head, guiding her chin up until her watery eyes met his. His rod nudged at her spit-slick lips, the swollen crown heavy against her mouth. “Open,” he ordered, voice low but vibrating with need. Her lips parted obediently, still trembling from the stretch of Stack’s length, and Smoke pushed forward, filling her mouth and sliding deep into her throat with one steady thrust. Her gag reflex never flinched, her throat hugging him tight as drool immediately spilled down her chin.

Behind her, Stack lined himself up again, his pipe already slick with her spit and juices. His rough hands gripped her hips, thumbs spreading her swollen folds apart. “That’s it, little wife,” he rasped, his grin twisted with pleasure as he pressed inside. Her cunt yielded to him inch by inch, still fluttering from being stretched by his twin. The wet, obscene sound of his manhood driving into her echoed through the room, loud and messy, her slick rained down her thighs as he bottomed out.

The twins groaned together, two deep raw sounds that vibrated against her body. Smoke tipped his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as her throat milked him. “Fuck… baby girl… ya mouth was made for me,” he moaned, his hips rocking, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he fucked her throat in slow, punishing thrusts. “Church girl, huh? Not no more. You takin’ me like our perfect slut.”

Stack’s voice cut in, rough and ragged as he fucked her pussy with hard, steady strokes. His hips slapped against her ass, each impact wet and heavy. “Fuck… you still squeezin’ me like you don’t ever wanna let go. This pussy somethin’ else. Perfect fuckin’ pussy.” He groaned again, his voice dropping to a growl. “You ours now. We ain’t never lettin’ you go… Gonna turn you into our perfect slut.”

Sera’s body writhed between them, her muffled cries vibrating around Smoke while she continued to leak around Stack. Her thighs trembled, her hips stuttered, and her walls clenched tight, signaling another orgasm building fast. Smoke felt her throat convulsing around him, drool running freely down her chin, and he pressed deeper, groaning loud. Stack felt her cunt lock around him again, the wet gush spilling hot over his dick Dwayne “THE CAWK” Johnson.

“Shit! She ‘bout to cum again,” Stack barked, his grin manic as he drilled harder, the wet sound deafening.

Smoke’s hand tightened in her curls as he shoved deeper into her throat, his groan breaking raw from his chest. “Let go for us, Seraphim. Cum while we fill you… Show us how much you fuckin’ love this.”

Her eyes rolled back, her body shuddering violently, and she broke apart with another orgasm that tore through her like lightning. Stack cursed as her walls milked him brutally, his thrusts turning ragged. “I’m fuckin’ there,” he whined, teeth bared. “I’m right fuckin’ there.”

Smoke’s composure finally cracked as her throat fluttered around him, sucking his release from him as if her body had been made for it. He grunted hard, his voice broken with pleasure. “Take it, my love. Swallow all of it.”

Stack slammed deep, burying himself as he spilled hot inside her, his groan animalistic as his seed spilled into her swollen pussy. Smoke followed, pressing deep into her throat as his length throbbed, his own hot release spilling down her gullet, forcing her to gulp as he held her head firm against him.

The twins moaned in unison, their sounds layered over the wet mess of her body, as they came undone inside their wife… her pussy and her throat claimed at once.

The room was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and oil, the air humming with the echoes of their ragged groans and Sera’s muffled cries. For a long moment, no one moved. Just the sound of their heavy breathing and the faint creak of the bed beneath their bodies.

Smoke was the first to stir. He eased his softening meat from her swollen throat, his hand immediately cupping her jaw, thumb brushing tenderly over her spit-slick lips. He leaned down, covering her face in soft, grounding kisses, trailing them from her damp cheeks to her temple, then back to her mouth. “Perfect,” he whispered against her skin, his voice low but certain, the kind of tone that left no room for doubt. “You so fuckin’ perfect, my love. Ours. Always ours.”

Stack pressed one last deep thrust into her before sighing and pulling out carefully. He bent over her back, pressing a trail of kisses along her shoulder, his lips soft and full of worship where moments ago his words had been filthy and sharp. “Mrs. Moore,” he rasped against her damp skin, “you did so damn good.” He lingered there for a moment, breathing her in, before reluctantly crawling off the bed. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he grabbed a towel to wipe himself down and moved to the bathroom, his scratched up shoulders flexing as he bent over the tub to run warm water.

Sera lay collapsed against the pillows, her body quivering faintly, her breath uneven. She felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, as if the world had tipped her into a new sky. She was on cloud nine, floating in the warmth of being filled and used and worshipped… but with that bliss came a hollow ache, a sudden emptiness where their dicks had been. The ache of being stretched, used, then left open and wanting.

Smoke recognized it instantly. He’d seen it before in dolls who shook and cried after being taken too far, their minds unraveling from too much pleasure without the anchor of care afterward. That was why he had fought so hard to keep it at “five percent.” He knew if they gave her the full weight of what they could do too soon, she would shatter in ways she wouldn’t come back from.

He gathered her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her delicate frame. “Shhh,” he soothed, smothering her in kisses against her damp curls, her forehead and the soft curve of her cheek. “I got you. We got you. You did so good for us, my love.” His body stayed locked around hers, holding her tight against the solid wall of his chest so she could feel anchored.

By the time Stack returned, the bath steamed and ready, Smoke was still lavishing her with kisses, whispering praise into her hair, rocking her slightly against him. Stack’s typical grin was gone, replaced with something softer, steadier. He placed a kiss on her damp temple before brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Bath’s ready for you, sweetheart,” he said gently.

Together, the twins lifted her, cradling her overstimulated body as if she weighed nothing. They carried her into the bathroom, the warm air wrapping around them. Smoke stepped into the tub first, lowering her carefully into the water while Stack steadied her with his hands. Both of them sank in beside her, their broad frames flanking her body, turning the bath into a cocoon of heat and muscle.

They worked together to wash her, their touches gentle and full of love. Stack took her arm and massaged soap into her skin with soft circles, pressing occasional kisses against her damp shoulder. Smoke tilted her chin up, rinsing her face with a careful hand before kissing her forehead again. Every touch was matched with words of praise, their voices layered low and steady.

“You ours now, little wife,” Smoke murmured. “Ain’t nothin’ you could do that would make us love you less.”

“Never seen anyone take us like you just did,” Stack added, his grin small but full of awe. “You somethin’ special, sunshine. One of a kind.”

They asked her, between their kisses and strokes of soap, where she was sore.

“Here?” Smoke pressed a palm against her thigh.

“Or here?” Stack traced her hip with his thumb.

They wanted to know if her chest hurt from crying, if her throat burned from being stretched, if her mind still felt too fuzzy or if she was drifting back to herself. Every answer she gave—whether whispered, nodded, or gasped—was met with more kisses, more praise and more grounding touches.

The bath wasn’t just for cleaning her body. It was for wrapping her in love, in ownership, in the reminder that even when they pushed her to the edge, they would always bring her back.

By the time they lifted her out, her head had grown heavy against Smoke’s chest, her arms draped loosely around his neck. Stack had the towel ready, drying her carefully, his lips brushing her shoulder before each new section of skin he tended to. When she was dressed in one of her slips, soft fabric clinging to her damp body, they carried her back to the bedroom.

The sheets were ruined, soaked through from sweat and her release, so the men stripped the bed down together, their broad frames working in practiced rhythm. Fresh linens stretched tight across the mattress, pillows fluffed, the bed remade into something clean and inviting. Smoke laid her gently against the center, Stack immediately climbing in beside her.

For an hour, they massaged her body from head to toe, their strong hands kneading away every ache. Stack started at her calves, working up her thighs, kissing the inside of her knee as he went. Smoke focused on her shoulders, her arms, rubbing deep into her tense muscles before bending low to kiss the slope of her neck. They met in the middle, their lips covering her in soft, relentless affection until she lay loose, boneless, drifting.

Her sighs grew softer, her lashes fluttered closed, and soon she melted fully into sleep, her chest rising in slow, steady rhythm. The twins lay on either side of her, watching her until they were sure she was deeply gone to dreams. Then, with quiet care, they slipped from the bed, leaving her bundled in blankets.

In the living room, the world looked different. The sun was setting, painting the city skyline outside their tall windows in bruised shades of orange and purple. The glass clinked faintly as Stack poured himself water, while Smoke dropped onto the couch, shirtless, a cigarette already between his lips. Both men wore only their pajama bottoms, their bare chests, shoulders, and arms tingling where Sera dug her nails into them.

For a moment, silence. Just the faint hum of the city far below, the crackle of Smoke’s lighter as he drew the first burn. “We don’t have to work,” He said finally, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. “We got enough tucked away. Could retire here. Live quiet. Enjoy bein’ married.”

Stack sat back in his chair, water glass resting on his knee. He didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted to the hallway, to the bedroom where their woman slept soundly, wrapped up in their scent. His throat bobbed, his eyes lingering before sliding back to his brother.

“We got too much devil blood in us to sit around playin’ house twenty-four-seven,” Stack muttered. “We don’t deserve that life… Not yet… Ain’t done enough good to earn it.” He shook his head slowly, his grin gone, his voice bare. “Still tryin’ to figure out what the fuck we did right to get her.”

Smoke chuckled, but there was no true joy behind it, only smoke spilling past his lips like a sigh. “I wonder the same.” His tired eyes dimmed, the weight of memory shadowing them. “She’s perfect. But us? We monsters. Blood all over our hands.”

Stack leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his voice cutting sharp with honesty. “I don’t feel worthy enough to fully call myself her husband. Least not right now... But I do know I don’t want no other woman. Pissed me off at first, leavin’ behind the brothel. But I’d trade every one of them dolls for her. A hunnid whores ain’t worth what she is. For the first time, one woman’s enough. She more than enough. An I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

Smoke hummed, his cigarette ember glowing as he drew another drag. “I hear you.” He let the tainted air curl into the dim light. “I wasn’t a good husband to Annie. Fucked that all to hell. But I’ll be damned if I don’t do right by Sera. She gon’ get all the good I got left in me.” He paused, his gaze drifting, the weight of reality cutting through his haze. His lips curled into a faint, crooked smile. “Shit. You realize what this is?”

Stack raised a brow.

Smoke tapped ash into the tray. “This technically our honeymoon.”

The word hung heavy between them, absurd and true all at once. Stack blinked, then huffed out a laugh, the sound short but real.

Smoke leaned back, his gaze sharp again. “Once this job with Capone’s done, we give her the wedding of her dreams. Even if it’s just the three of us in the room. She deserve that. She deserve more than what we been.”

Stack’s jaw flexed, but his eyes softened as he glanced once more at the hallway. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “She does.”

Author’s Note: Boy oh boy… This has been a wild ride 🤭 Now it’s time to dive into their marriage, the twins working, Sera finding herself, and of course them doing the freaky nasty 24/7

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