Page 71 of Branson's Promise

“So fucking happy,” I moaned into his mouth as he removed his hands and I felt his arousal press against my thigh. Milo pulled my shirt up, then slid his hands along my ribs, and down my back until they were resting on the globes of my ass. He gripped me tightly and pulled me towards him so that our cocks- still covered in far too many layers - were pressed together. We kissed and rutted and moaned until my head was spinning with lack of oxygen and undeniable levels of desire.

Milo pulled away, breathless and panting, then looked over my shoulder, his lips quirking up on one side as he spoke. “Dinner may be ruined, but dessert is looking fucking fine.” I turned my head, following his heated gaze to the entrance of the kitchen, to where Branson stood dressed in one of my work shirts, each button done up except for the top two. He wore nothing else save for a sexy smirk and bright, shining blue eyes.

He played with a button as he spoke. “I’d planned to suggest we watch a movie, but it seems the two of you started something else while I was gone.” He undid two buttons of the shirt while taking a step towards us, and I turned around fully so my back was to Milo. “And I was keeping this for later but now I’m feeling far too impatient.” Branson took two more steps forward as he undid more buttons and, as the fabric parted, we were treated to a glance of bright purple fabric. Behind me, Milo gripped my hip, rubbing his hard erection into my ass as he watched over my shoulder as Branson undid the final button, allowing the shirt to fall open.

"Fuck, babe, you are so bloody pretty,” Milo growled, as he toyed his fingers through the hair beneath my navel. I was hard and dripping and so fucking hungry for them. Milo with his hands all over me and his intoxicating scent and Branson, a sinful vision of smooth pale skin in tiny purple lace panties and my shirt. The animal part of me that revelled in his scent and his taste stirred at the idea of him in my clothing.

Stepping out of Milo’s hold, I stalked over to Branson. A predator to its prey and stopped a foot in front of him, taking in every inch of his bare skin, his flushed cheeks and the hard cock pressing against the lace. “Beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Hiseyes closed momentarily, his eyelids fluttering in response to the praise. I loved that I had this effect on him with just my words.

Closing the gap between us, I scooped him up, then crashed my lips to his, biting and sucking the tender flesh as I carried him to the counter. With one arm, I swiped everything off it, then placed Branson on the wooden surface. Milo came up behind me, his stealthy fingers making quick work of stripping me of my shirt. Branson fell back on his elbows, his hooded eyes watching Milo undress me.

Once my shirt was off, I made quick work of removing the rest of my clothing until I was completely naked, towering over Branson’s form. I leaned in, nuzzling my nose against his sweet skin and licked a stripe from his collarbone to just beneath his ear. Then I took the lobe in my mouth and bit it, tugging gently, getting rougher with every whimper he made until his hands were clawing at my chest, one hand twisting at the barbell until the pain in morphed into heat - pure blissful heat. “Touch me, please, daddy. Need you.” Branson’s pleas were music to my ears and I slid my hand down his stomach and over the soft fabric until I was gripping his hard cock.

From behind me, I heard the opening and closing of the fridge door and moments later, Milo was next to me, topless but still wearing a pair of black boxers. In his hand he held a bottle of lube and a tin of spraying cream. For Milo, food and sex went hand in hand, and he often found a way to cover us in champagne, beer, chocolate and even once, caramel sauce.

Flipping the cap off the cream, he squirted it over Branson’s chest, creating large swirls over Branson’s nipples. Branson whimpered, squirming away in response to the cold hitting his overheated flesh. I took the canister from Milo with one hand, and with the other, I pulled the fabric of Branson’s panties to the side, releasing his hard cock. It was such a pretty flushed pink resting in a nest of blonde hair. Tipping the canister, my fingerpressing down on the trigger, I created a line of foamy white cream from his navel, down and over his cock, being sure to cover his balls too.

Milo dived in, licking up the sweet substance from Branson’s skin, lapping at his nipples and rubbing his scruff over the cream covered skin. Following the line of cream, I lapped it up, bypassing his dick and sucking his balls clean. He keened under the attention, whimpers and pleas falling from his mouth as his body was overwhelmed with sensation. “More, more, more.”

The cream dripped down Branson’s taint, covering the lace and onto the counter and I could feel it coating my lips as I bent down and sucked his cock into my mouth. He was sweet with a salty undercurrent and the taste was intoxicating. He bucked his hips, impatient for more friction, more pressure. So, I gave it to him, sucking him deep into the back of my throat, adding a hand and twisting up and down his shaft. Milo didn’t let up, sucking and nibbling at his nipples. Branson cried out, “Yes, daddy!” as hot squirts of thick, salty cum hit the back of my throat, mixing with the sweetness of the cream. I swallowed every drop he gave me, then licked around the head, popped off and stood straight, fixing the lace panties back into place.

Milo straightened next to me and we took a moment to survey the beauty that was our serenely blissed out boyfriend, still dressed in my shirt. I raked my gaze down his chest, blotchy with rosy patches and marks from where Milo’s scruff had scratched against him, his skin shining where we'd licked and sucked at it. Then over to his ribs and to the tattoo he now had running along them on one side. Three interlaced hearts. It had been the last tattoo Milo had done before leaving the States.

Milo turned towards me, flicking his tongue in a long stripe up my lips then dove in for a kiss. He took control, pressing his tongue to the seam of my lips and I opened for him, letting him devour me as though I were his next course. “Let’s sharethis pretty dessert,” he suggested, and I felt his grin before he stepped back, pulled off his boxers and uncapped the bottle of lube.

With his gaze locked onto Branson, Milo coated his fingers and stepped closer. I came up beside them and lifted Branson’s leg, pushing it up until he gripped the back of his knee, lifted the other and held himself open to us. “So perfect, kitten,” I purred while Milo pulled the thong strap to one side, then slid in one finger and then a second, making Branson’s spent dick twitch beneath its fabric confines.

With Branson flat on his back on the kitchen counter, his knees held against his chest, Milo lined up his hard cock and pushed at his entrance, jerking his hips and sinking all the way in, groaning as his cock disappeared into Branson’s tight channel. As Milo fucked him, slowly at first, with shallow movements, then picking up his pace to firm steady thrusts, I ran my hands along Branson’s stomach and over his legs, enjoying the feel of his thin hair against my palms. Moving behind Milo, I did the same to him, mapping the planes of his muscles, which bunched as he moved inside Branson, then over the globes of his ass and around to his other side. He sucked in a breath when my fingers found his nipple, twisting and eliciting the hottest groan as I pinched then released it, repeating the movement two more times.

Branson moaned as Milo pressed him further up the kitchen counter, then grabbed his legs and slammed into him, and I took up position, bending over to press my lips to Branson’s, eating every moan and whimper that left his lips. “Please touch me,” he whispered into my mouth and I slid my hand into the fabric of his panties, gripping his cock, which was once again hard. With my lips telling passionate stories against his, and my hand working him over, I ignored the ache in my own dick, focusing on bringing him over the edge.

Milo stilled, grounding out a deep, lustyfuckas he pulled out and coated Branson’s lace covered dick and my hand in his cum. The sounds they both made were so heady and delicious, I was sure I was about to explode just listening to them. Milo pulled out, stepping to the side and resting one hand on the counter and the other on Branson's thigh, his head facing to where I now stood - I knew he liked to watch me bury myself in our boyfriend.

Moving quickly, I swiped up Milo's cum and rubbed it on my own cock, delighting in the slide of it over my shaft. The thong part of Branson's panties had moved to cover his entrance and I twisted them in one hand before positioning myself, then thrusting into his stretched hole. He wrapped his legs around me as I pressed in, pulling out to just the tip, then snapping my hips and back into his tight heat. “Such a good boy. Are you going to come again for me?” Branson nodded, his hand moving beneath the fabric to jerk himself. He cried out as he came, jets of semen seeping through the purple fabric of his panties.

Pleasure buzzed up my spine and through my limbs, making my knees shake and my body burn from the inside. I had been riding this wave for so long - watching them, tasting them, breathing in the scent of them - and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I came, cum exploding from me in scorching waves. Taking a huge lungful of air, I fell forward and rested my head against Branson’s sticky chest.

Milo’s hand brushing along my back and the press of his lips against my shoulder had me sighing, contentment replacing the arousal that had shot through my body.

Later that night, we lay huddled together in our huge bed, me in the middle with Milo’s head resting on one thigh. Branson was on the other side and my soft cock was resting warmly in his mouth, his lips and tongue moving slightly against it as he drifted to sleep. I ran my hands through their hair, both damp from our shower and scraped my nails against their scalps,listening as Milo hummed in response. Nothing could ever come close to this feeling. Pure, unwavering love.

This was all I needed. These two men that I called mine.

Epilogue Two

Milo

Six Years Later

Moving to London had been the new chapter we had all needed and I haven’t regretted it even once, even when making the move wasn’t as simple as we had first presumed. All those years ago, when Noel suggested Mia and I move to the UK with him, we’d been foolish enough to think that meant hopping on a plane and flying over. What we didn’t account for was thatas American passport holders, we couldn’t justlivein England. In the months and years that followed there were endless reams of paperwork, visas and trips back to the States, but, true to his nature, Noel took care of it all.

I continued to go to therapy once we moved, and spent a lot of time dealing with my grief over losing my mother, gradually accepting that I didn’t deserve the blame my father had laid on me. Though Noel and Branson had told me as much so many times, I needed to deal with those feelings for myself. As for my father, I didn’t see or speak to him after that day at the farmers’ market; though I knew Mia checked in on him from time to time, I never asked for updates.

I had everyone I loved and cherished around me and I couldn’t have asked for more precious people than the ones that I called my family.

“Are you ready to go?” Branson asked me from the doorway of our room. I looked down at the tiny person sleeping on my chest. The blonde curls and the rosy cheeks, her back rising and falling gently with each breath. I was so warm and comfortable sitting on the bed, holding our daughter, listening to the sounds of the rest of our busy household that I could quite easily have spent the day in that position. But we had somewhere to be, and the rest of our extended family to see. In the distance, I could hear Noel cursing the dog again, and then the cries of baby number two.

“I am, let me just put Ava’s jumper on and round up a few things. Here, take her for a moment.” Gently, I lifted Ava up and handed her to Branson who quickly tucked her against his chest and kissed the top of her head, which I knew smelled like apples with an undertone of sour milk.