Baby Daddy Roulette

Chapter 64

The need hits like a wave after the babies are asleep.

One moment I'm loading the dishwasher, still floating on the relief of the board's decision. The next, I'm looking at Axel and Mateo across the kitchen—Axel drying dishes with methodical precision, Mateo scrolling his phone with that lazy grace—and something primal claws its way up from my chest.

I almost lost this. We almost lost everything. Months of fear and fighting and waiting for the other shoe to drop, and now—now we're still standing. Still here. Still ours.

"Bedroom," I say. "Now."

They don't question it. Something in my voice tells them this isn't a request. Mateo sets down his wine glass. Axel abandons the counter he was wiping. They follow me down the hall like they can feel the urgency radiating off my skin.

The door barely closes before I'm on them.

I grab Axel first, yanking him down by his shirt, kissing him with a desperation that's been building for months. All the fear, all the uncertainty, all the nights I lay awake wondering if everything would fall apart—I pour it into him. He groans against my mouth, hands finding my waist, pulling me flush against him.

Mateo presses against my back. His mouth finds my neck, teeth scraping sensitive skin, and I gasp into Axel's kiss.

"I need you," I manage between breaths. "Both of you. I need to feel—"

"We're here." Mateo's voice is rough. "We've got you."

Clothes come off in a frenzy. No patience for buttons or slow reveals—just desperate hands stripping fabric, needing skin against skin. I push Axel onto the bed, straddle him, feel his hardness pressing against me through the last layer of clothing.

"Mine," I say, the word fierce and claiming. "You're mine. Both of you."

"Yours," Axel agrees, eyes dark with want.

"Always," Mateo adds, climbing onto the bed behind me.

I sink down onto Axel without preamble—I'm already wet, already aching, my body responding to months of suppressed need finally breaking free. He fills me completely, and I cry out at the intensity, the relief, the overwhelming rightness of being joined.

"Fuck," Axel breathes. "You feel—"

"Don't talk." I start moving, riding him hard, chasing sensation. "Just feel."

Mateo's hands roam my body—cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples, sliding down my stomach to where I'm stretched around Axel. His fingers find my clit, circling with perfect pressure, and I moan loud enough that I'd worry about the baby monitor if I could think about anything except this.

"So beautiful," Mateo murmurs against my ear. "Taking what you need. Using us."

"I need more." The words come out ragged. "I need—"

"Tell us."

"I need to feel you everywhere. I need to know this is real. That we made it. That you're still here."

Axel's hands grip my hips, guiding my rhythm, driving up into me with controlled power. Mateo's mouth traces fire down my spine while his fingers keep working my clit, relentless, perfect.

"We're here," Axel says. "We're not going anywhere."

"Never," Mateo agrees. "You're stuck with us."

The first orgasm tears through me without warning—sharp and intense, my whole body seizing around Axel while Mateo holds me through the waves. I collapse forward, panting against Axel's chest, but I'm not done. Not close to done.

"More," I demand. "I want more."

They rearrange without discussion, reading my body, anticipating my needs. Axel pulls out, flips me onto my back. Mateo takes his place between my thighs, sliding inside me in one smooth thrust while Axel moves up to straddle my chest.

I take Axel in my mouth, tasting myself on him, feeling Mateo pound into me with increasing urgency. The dual sensation is overwhelming—full at both ends, surrounded by them, owned by them, claiming them in return.

"God, your mouth," Axel groans, hips rocking gently. "So good. So fucking good."

Mateo's pace increases. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider, driving deeper. "You're going to come again. I can feel you clenching."

He's right. The second orgasm is building, different from the first—slower, deeper, a wave gathering force before it crashes. I moan around Axel's cock, the vibration making him curse and thrust harder.

"Together," I manage, pulling off just long enough to speak. "I want us to come together."

"Close," Axel admits, voice strained.

"Me too," Mateo gasps. "Selene—"

"Now. Come for me. Both of you. Now."

The command sends us all over the edge. Mateo buries himself deep, pulsing inside me while the orgasm rips through us both. Axel follows seconds later, spilling across my chest with a groan that sounds like surrender.

We collapse into a tangle of limbs and sweat and gasping breaths. For long minutes, no one speaks. We just exist together, hearts pounding, skin sticky, completely wrung out.

"Jesus," Mateo finally manages. "That was—"

"Intense," Axel supplies.

"Necessary," I correct. I pull them both closer, needing the contact even now. "I spent months being afraid. Being careful. Being professional and controlled and whatever I needed to be to survive. And now it's over, and I just—"

"Needed to feel alive," Mateo finishes.

"Yes."

He presses a kiss to my temple. "We can do alive. Alive is kind of our specialty."

Axel's hand traces lazy patterns on my stomach, smearing the mess there without seeming to care. "You know this was mutual, right? The desperation. We needed this too."

"Did you?"

"I've been terrified of losing you for months." His voice is quiet. "Watching you go through the deposition, the media attacks, the review board—wanting to fix it and not being able to. This—" He gestures at the three of us, the bed, the aftermath. "This is the only place where I feel useful. Where I can actually do something."

"You do plenty," I tell him. "You do everything."

"So do you. So does Mateo." He pulls us both closer. "That's the point. We do this together."

Mateo yawns, clearly fighting exhaustion. "Can we do together horizontally for a while? With less talking and more sleeping?"

"Cleanup first," I say. "We're disgusting."

"I prefer 'well-loved.'"

"We're both."

Axel fetches a warm cloth while Mateo and I lie there, too boneless to move. He cleans us gently, methodically—the tender counterpoint to what came before. When he's done, he slides back into bed, and we rearrange ourselves into our usual configuration: me in the middle, one on each side, hands interlinked across my body.

"I love you," I say into the darkness. "Both of you. I don't say it enough."

"You show it," Axel murmurs. "That matters more."

"You show it every day," Mateo agrees. "Every time you choose us. Every time you fight for this family. Words are nice, but actions are what count."

"Still." I squeeze their hands. "I love you. I want you to hear it."

"We hear it." Mateo's voice is soft with sleep. "We love you too."

Axel doesn't say it—that's not his way. But he pulls me closer, presses a kiss to my hair, holds on like he'll never let go.

That says everything.

We drift toward sleep, tangled together in a bed that's finally feeling like ours again. Not a battleground. Not a temporary refuge from chaos. Just home.

The wars aren't over. Cassian's threat still lingers. The league pressure still looms. Life will find new ways to test us.

But tonight, in this bed, with these men—I'm not worried about tomorrow.

Tonight, we're exactly where we belong.