(you can read the full story by visiting my profile)
ELLIAS POV
I laughed quietly — maybe the first real laugh in days. Their voices, their calmness, their little remarks… they made me feel safe, almost like I belonged there.
Alex didn't immediately move his hand from where he'd fixed my hair; instead, his thumb brushed softly over the skin behind my ear, tracing the line of my jaw. The small, honest smile he'd worn faded, replaced by a quiet look of deep recognition.
“You don’t have to hide anything from us, Elias,” he murmured, his voice low, and then he leaned in, his lips finding mine.
It wasn't a hurried kiss, but a slow, seeking one—an exploration that confirmed all the unsaid warmth of the evening. I turned fully toward him, the soft material of the nightdress bunching slightly between our chests.
Julian, who had been watching, placed his book down with a soft thud on the floor. He didn't rush. He simply shifted, placing a firm, grounding hand on the back of my neck, anchoring me between them.
As Alex broke the kiss to breathe, he shifted, tilting my head back slightly. His attention moved lower, grazing my cheek until his mouth found my throat, right where the gentle, woody scent of his soap lingered. He kissed me slowly there, pressing his lips to my pulse, turning that quiet, fragile glow into a heated current.
I leaned back, a soft, involuntary sound escaping my throat, and Julian took that as his cue. His fingers, warm and practiced, found the back of my nape, just beneath the line of my hair. He pulled me gently back toward his chest, and then his lips replaced his hand.
The nape kiss was quick, almost possessive pressure, like a secret whispered only for me—a perfect, demanding contrast to Alex’s slow, deliberate touch. I was suspended there, enveloped by both of them, the lightweight fabric of the nightdress now feeling less like an unfamiliar garment and more like a necessary layer of my own skin.
With a shared, unspoken agreement, Julian pushed himself slightly off the headboard. His hand moved down my spine, tracing the line of the delicate fabric, before his fingers gently found the hem of the shorts. He pulled me closer, urging me to lean back fully into his embrace, while Alex settled in front of me, his eyes dark with a focused intent.
The lamps were no longer dim; they were distant, forgotten. There was only the heat of their bodies, the feel of their breath, and the intoxicating sensation of being completely, safely, wanted between them.
The lamps were no longer dim; they were distant, forgotten. There was only the heat of their bodies, the feel of their breath, and the intoxicating sensation of being completely, safely, wanted between them.
The moment Julian pulled me back against his chest, urging me to lean into his strength, the last threads of my shyness snapped. The quiet room was suddenly charged, thick with the scent of Alex's soap, Julian's skin, and something new—something dizzyingly close to desperation.
Alex's hands were the first to move with a clear, unstoppable intention. He slid his palms up the outer seams of the soft nightdress shorts, his thumbs grazing the delicate skin of my thighs. His touch was possessive, yet somehow still reverent, acknowledging the new, light fabric he had chosen for me. I gasped, the sound muffled against his shoulder, and felt Julian’s lips curve into a knowing smile against my neck.
"Soft, just like I said," Julian murmured, the praise turning into a heated command. He shifted his grip, one hand sweeping down my front to explore the space the shirt created. His fingers found the outline of my ribs, tracing up to the new, shocking firmness of my nipples beneath the thin cloth. That single touch—a slow, circling pressure—sent a shudder through me that had nothing to do with fear. It was pure, unfiltered release.
The combination was overwhelming: Julian’s solid heat anchoring me from behind, his careful exploration turning the simple act of breathing into an erotic struggle, and Alex in front, his gaze never leaving my eyes as his hands worked their way higher.
Alex followed Julian's lead, but his approach was different—less teasing, more consuming. His mouth, no longer satisfied with my neck, moved to my collarbone, showering the sensitive curve of my shoulder with sharp, demanding kisses that made me arch back harder into Julian. He didn't just touch the fabric of the nightshirt; he pushed it aside, peeling the neckline back to expose the upper swell of my chest, before his lips finally found a nipple, hot and demanding.
A low, guttural sound escaped Alex’s throat, a sound of complete loss of control that echoed the chaos blooming inside me. I felt Julian lean over my shoulder, his breath hot, his own hand following Alex’s path, staking his claim on my other side. I was caught in a current of sensation, their mouths and hands covering every inch of my upper body—my neck, my chest, my ribs—leaving behind trails of heat and dampness.
I was losing track of who was doing what. I was no longer Elias sitting between two men; I was a living nexus of their desire.
Julian was the one who steered the next shift. With a sudden, decisive move, he lifted me, his arms looping under my ass, the soft fabric of the shorts riding high. The shorts, which had felt delicate before, now felt like a playful obstacle. He pushed me gently down onto the bed, his weight settling over my legs, while Alex followed him down, his eyes dark and focused.
Now, lying on my back, I was exposed. Alex’s head descended, leaving the heat of my chest to explore the unfamiliar territory of my stomach. He worked his way down, his lips teasing the soft skin just above the waistband, making my breath catch. The air was thick and heavy, and I could feel the tremor in their hands as they worked together to pull the flimsy shorts down and away.
When the nightdress was finally discarded, pulled off entirely by a pair of hungry, synchronized hands, the air hit my bare skin, but the cold lasted only a second before their combined heat covered me again. Julian’s mouth and tongue descended with a hungry focus onto my inner thighs, a deep, consuming kiss that had me clenching my fists into the sheets.
I was trembling, overwhelmed by the complete, unabashed attention to every single part of me. There was no longer any room for shame or fear. There was only the pure, primal pleasure of being completely seen and completely claimed.
Alex shifted then, his hands finding the sensitive, aching curve of my private part. He was firm, guiding me into the rhythm of their desire, while Julian worked his way back up, his teeth nipping gently at my hipbone, his voice a low, reassuring rumble against my skin.
I cried out, not from pain, but from the sudden, intense pleasure that washed over me—the feeling of two separate, powerful forces converging, not just on my body, but on the soul I had finally dared to show them. They were relentless, driving me higher and faster, until the world narrowed down to the sound of their accelerated breathing and the desperate, sweet friction of their hands against my skin.
As the moment broke, an intense wave of sensation crashing over me, I realized the full truth of that night: I wasn't just safe; I was cherished. I was loved. And I was uncontrollably wanted, down to the last, trembling inch of my body. Lying there, pinned between their breathless weight and their shared euphoria, I knew the quiet lamp had never stood a chance against the fire they had just lit.
