Chapter 23

The massage room smelled like sex and sandalwood.

Brit was still on the table—face down, legs limp, breathing slow and heavy. Totally blissed out.

Fab stood beside her like he hadn’t just fucked her into melted honey and made love to her so tenderly that we were all still a little stunned.

He didn’t gloat. Didn’t pose. He just stood there—calm, centered. Like a god who didn’t need worship, but still made you want to kneel. His tattooed, muscled body looked unreal in the light, that perfect kind of dangerous ... but then he’d flash that kind smile, and suddenly the danger felt like a warm invitation.

I sat on the bench, still catching my breath, doing my best not to look completely wrecked. My heart was pounding. My skin felt electric.

Watching Brit come like that ... watching Fab hold her like she was precious ... it was a lot.

Her orgasm had hit like a sunrise—bright, blinding, impossible to ignore. And then Fab had taken her deep, slow, real. I’d never seen anything like it.

Across the room, Kari ran her fingers through Ken’s hair, humming under her breath. Brit gave a lazy smile, eyes barely open, her voice thick with afterglow.

“Okay,” she murmured, “that ... was not just a massage.”

Ken laughed. “No complaints, I hope?”

“Only that I may never walk again,” Brit said, face still buried in the table. “My legs feel like jelly.”

Kari grinned and looked over at Ellie, who was standing near Brit, looking like a pin-up angel dipped in gloss. Her dark, lustrous braids shimmered in the light, red ribbons dancing as she fidgeted. Her lips were candy-apple red, matching her nails. It was a look—sweet, nervous, completely irresistible.

“Ellie,” Kari said, voice all velvet. “Think you’d like a turn?”

Ellie blinked. “Me?” Her voice cracked adorably. “I mean—yes. I mean—oh gosh.”

I nearly laughed. She looked like someone had just asked if she wanted to open the last present under the Christmas tree. And it was vibrating.

Brit lifted her head with a lazy, blissed-out smile. “He’s amazing, El. Like magic.”

Fab caught Ellie’s gaze. “Only if you want to,” he said gently. “No rush.”

Ellie bit her lip. Then nodded—quick, certain. “I do.”

She sounded like she was at the altar.

Kari walked over and helped her up, guiding her gently toward the table.

Meanwhile, Ken and Fab helped Brit off the massage table. Her legs were still wobbly, so they held her steady, walked her to the bench, and helped her sit back down with that kind of soft, wordless care that made my chest tighten.

Ellie moved like a dream. Her braids bounced. Her skin glowed. As she climbed onto the table, I honestly worried she’d stick to the leather like syrup—she looked that sweet.

Fab adjusted the cushions while Ellie lay back, the red ribbons fanning out across the dark leather. Just watching her breathe made my chest flutter.

He started with her shoulders—slow, firm, steady. His hands looked impossibly warm, and from the way Ellie sighed, they were.

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled, “your hands are so fucking warm.”

Fab smiled. “Your skin welcomed me.”

God, he’s smooth. Next time I’m bringing a notebook. Or better yet—someone needs to secretly record him. The man’s a walking quote machine.

I sat on a small bench near the massage table—close to Ellie. My hand rested on the table just beside her hip. Kari sat beside me, her arm brushing mine.

“She’s so fucking hot,” she whispered, eyes locked on Ellie’s glowing figure.

She wasn’t wrong.

Ellie was melting into the table, breath deepening with every pass of Fab’s hands. Her toes curled as he moved lower, her body twitching slightly with every new touch. Then she exhaled—and the sound that came out made my balls tighten.

I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath until she reached back and found my hand.

I squeezed it. Maybe grounding her. Maybe grounding me.

‘She’s a dark-haired Disney princess getting wrecked by a god,’ I thought. ‘Rated R edition. Available only in dreams and Fab’s calendar shoot.’

Kari chuckled. “You’re blushing.”

“I know,” I muttered. “I feel warm.”

Ellie arched, her back bowing, her body becoming something liquid under Fab’s touch. He was mapping her like a cartographer of desire. And she was unfolding like a story he already knew by heart.

‘God, my new family is so weird,’ I thought. ‘And I’ve never felt more home.’

Fab leaned in close and whispered something in Ellie’s ear. I couldn’t hear what he said, but her reaction told me everything—she gasped, nodded, trembled.

I watched, wide-eyed, a little dizzy.

Kari’s hand landed on my thigh and gave it a soft squeeze.

“This,” she murmured, “is how she becomes one of us.”

And I knew she was right. This wasn’t just a massage.

This was Ellie being welcomed home.

Fab turned and looked at me. “Leo,” he said gently, “would you help me?”

My eyebrows rose. “Me? Sure.”

He stepped back a little, calm as ever. “Would you guide me inside her?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Ellie, still on her stomach, lifted her head, then slowly turned over—her flushed face, her soft breasts rising with each breath, her thighs parting instinctively as she settled onto her back. She looked up at me—cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes wide with yes. Her body glowed, warm and open, like a painting you wanted to climb inside.

I stepped closer. Fab’s body beside hers radiated heat—dark skin, ink, muscle, all of it coiled around a cock that stood thick and perfect. I reached out and took it in my hand.