#poly!muke

The streets are empty at this hour, but you move through the alley like you own it. Shoulders squared, chin high, you round a corner you’ve taken a hundred times and find yourself facing the same old nightclub.

Its neon sign burns a furious red, spilling eerie light across the brick. The glow has become almost comforting, like a wound you’ve learned to live with. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and head for the door.

The bouncer leans lazily against the frame, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth. His eyes catch the glow and flash unnaturally bright. Too bright.

Vampire.

You pause, grinning back at him. He looks young—handsome in a rough way, tattoos crawling over tan skin, a streak of blond in his dark hair—but not the one you came here for.

Still, your blood stirs. He’s inside. You can feel him, the way the air sharpens before rain.

“You gonna let me in,” you drawl, folding your arms to mirror his, “or you planning to keep me waiting till sunrise?”

The guy hums, grin never slipping. “Doubt this is where you wanna be, sweetheart.” He drops his arms, stretching until his shirt rides up and flashes a strip of stomach. “Best get going.”

Your frown deepens, that pulse under your skin flaring again. He’s close—you can feel it. The breath you draw is pure habit, a relic of the life you left behind. You haven’t needed air since the night you were turned.

You flash a slow, devastating smile, letting your fangs slip free. His eyes catch them, and for the first time, his posture shifts—just a fraction, but enough.

“Surprised you don’t recognize your own kind,” you murmur, mock affection dripping like honey. “Or maybe you just don’t like me very much.”

He scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know you. Must be a young one.”

The laugh that escapes you is light, amused—too amused. You shake your head and step forward, and that second wave of recognition slams into you, stronger, searing down your spine until your irises flare red.

“Never as young as you,” you whisper, low and dangerous. “Tell me—who turned you? Is he inside? Is that why you’re out here posturing like you own the door?”

“I’m with the band, too.” His jaw tightens. “What do you want?”

You lean back, letting the pull ebb just enough to smile again, disarmingly bright. “My name’s Y/N,” you say, tone suddenly casual, friendly even. “And yours?”

His hesitation is quick but noticeable. His gaze flicks past you, then back. “Calum,” he mutters.

Your grin widens, satisfaction curling through you. “Calum,” you echo, savoring it. “I know who turned you. And I think I’m here for him, too.”

Surprise cuts across his face before he can mask it. His brows shoot up, and when he speaks, his voice is taut with disbelief.

“Did Luke turn you too?”

You smile, a pitying tilt of your lips as you shake your head. “Never that,” you murmur. “Now, are you gonna let me in, sweetheart? I think you’re starting to realize you shouldn’t fuck with me.”

Calum’s brief truce vanishes. His eyes darken, and with an irritated sigh, he finally steps aside. The path to the entrance opens, and you throw him one last taunting smile before slipping inside.

The music hits harder once you cross the threshold, bass thrumming through the floorboards. Bodies pack the room, pressed shoulder to shoulder—mostly vampires. But you spot the glazed-eyed humans too, their necks streaked with blood.

You huff, shaking your head at the sight. Humans chasing venom highs had become far too common, and the addiction was every bit as vicious as street drugs.

For vampires, human blood was little more than sustenance. The real high only came from drinking your mate’s blood—the bliss, the euphoria, the intimacy woven into it.

It’s said to be orgasmic. At least, that’s what you’ve heard.

The connection here is overwhelming, almost suffocating. Every cell in your body hums with awareness of his proximity—so sharp, so consuming it feels like you might combust from the inside out.

You don’t know how it began, not exactly. Months ago, you were just another shadow on the street, stalking your next meal, when the world suddenly tilted. You collapsed, your body convulsing under the weight of something unseen.

The only way you’ve ever been able to describe it is this: the desperate gulp of air after nearly drowning. Since that night, the pull beneath your skin has been relentless, dragging you across the city until it finally led you here—into the heart of a vampire club in downtown Los Angeles.

You push past bodies, slipping deeper into the venue. His energy is a live wire under your skin now, closer with every step. Excitement sparks through your veins, impossible to ignore.

From the corner of your eye, a flicker of movement—dirty blond hair, a laugh so rich it seems to vibrate through your chest. You snap your head toward it, heart leaping, blood running hot with anticipation.

But there’s nothing.

Clicking your tongue in disappointment, you turn, deciding maybe the bar will give you a better vantage point.

You barely pivot before slamming into someone’s chest. Strong hands fly to your arms, circling your biceps to steady you.

The pull rips through you violently, dragging a gasp from your lips as you blink up—and meet a pair of striking green eyes.

He towers over you, tall enough that you have to crane your neck just to hold his gaze. Bright, fire-engine red hair sticks out wildly beneath a backward snapback, and a black metal bar glints from his eyebrow.

His pupils blow wide. A strangled sound catches in his throat as his grip on you tightens. His lips—unnaturally pink, almost feverish—part around a stunned breath.

“Are you…” Your voice falters, dizzy just from standing this close. “Are you Luke?”

The guy blinks, taking a few seconds too long to respond. He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “Not Luke,” he says. “Michael.”

The name washes through you in a delicious shiver. You smirk, Michael still hasn’t let go of your arm. 

“Hi Michael,” you purr. “I’m Y/N. And I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Michael snaps back to himself, tongue darting out to wet his lips before his hands slide down to your wrists. His fingers circle them tightly, almost possessive.

“So it really is you,” he says, a grin cracking across his face. “The one I keep feeling everywhere.”

You arch a teasing brow. “You’ve been feeling me?” you hum, leaning closer. If your heart still beat, it would be pounding.

“Everywhere I go,” he confirms, voice rough. “It’s like my fucking blood is screaming.”

The two of you push through the crowd, guided by that unbearable, magnetic need pulling tighter with every step. Every brush of Michael’s skin against yours is fire, and for the first time in months, a sense of relief washes over you.

Your search is over.

Just as you and Michael reach a secluded hallway, a figure peels away from the shadows. He looms—broad, imposing, a menacing silhouette framed by the pulsing red lights and bass-thick air.

But there’s no fear.

Only a pull. Stronger. Wilder. Twice as intense as before.

His eyes burn into the places where you’re still pressed against Michael, and your breath catches. Not from recognition—at least, not the visual kind. But something deeper. Older. Something etched into your very being.

When his eyes meet yours—blue, sharp, familiar—something inside you snaps tight. Then he looks at Michael, and his expression darkens.

“What the hell is this?” he asks, voice low and lethal as he pushes off the wall.

Dark blond hair curls under a snapback—another snapback; seriously, there must be a dress code—and his mouth is twisted into a frown, a black ring hugging his plush bottom lip.

Michael lets out a long-suffering sigh and raises an eyebrow. “Dude,” he scoffs, “you seriously couldn’t pick any other moment to interrupt?”

The pressure in your chest builds unbearably. It hits you all at once.

Michael is your mate.

So is he.

The blond’s jaw tightens. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I interrupt you trying to drag my mate into a back room?” His voice is frayed at the edges, barely containing the fury underneath. “Really, Mike—fuck off.”

“Who are you?” you ask, excitement prickling across your skin.

His attention shifts to you, and he blinks slowly. “You already know.”

Of course you do. The name had been whispered to you all day, a flash of blond hair at the edge of your vision. Luke. Your hand is still locked with Michael’s, the pull between you both only growing stronger.

“She’s my mate,” Michael snaps, chest puffing as he takes a step toward Luke. The air thickens, humming with tension, though the weight of it strikes you as more amusing than dangerous.

“Actually,” you cut in, and both of them turn toward you instantly. “I think you’re both mine.”

Michael scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. That’s never happened before.”

You shrug and pivot, your heels clicking against the floor. The door Michael had been leading you toward is only a few feet away. You sway your hips as you walk, knowing without looking that both men are trailing after you, begrudging and reluctant.

You twist the handle and push the door open, revealing a lounge tucked away from the noise. A small couch sits in the corner, and instruments—guitars and basses in a kaleidoscope of colors—line the wall.

“Luke, don’t fucking start,” Michael warns as he closes the door behind you. “You know I’ve been feeling her for months.”

You sink onto the couch, watching as Luke’s jaw clenches in irritation.

True, you’d only felt Michael’s presence for a few weeks. Still, it wasn’t surprising he’d sensed you lingering in the world, tethered to him.

A yawn slips from you, feigned or not, as you study the simmering tension between them. Luke is silent, arms crossed, his stare locked on you.

“You know what this is,” he finally says, voice low as he steps closer to Michael. “There’s no fucking way it’s both of us. You know it.”

A smirk tugs at your lips as a new thought blooms. “There’s always the option to fight it out,” you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry purr.

Michael’s mouth opens, then he shakes his head. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters. He turns sharply to Luke, anger flaring. “Back the fuck off.”

Luke presses his tongue to his cheek, giving Michael an unimpressed look. “You’re starting a fight you know you’re gonna lose,” he says evenly. “I’ve felt her for years. Years. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“Boys,” you snap, leaning forward, elbows braced against your knees. “This is starting to bore me. Sit.”

They exchange a tense look, neither moving for a long beat—until suddenly they’re scrambling for space beside you. Michael crashes down first, practically falling onto the couch, while Luke follows with far more grace.

Both are rigid, fury radiating off them in waves. The realization that you are the reason for it fills you with an intoxicating rush of power.

You turn to Michael, cupping his face in one hand, brushing your thumb along his cheek. With your other hand, you do the same to Luke.

“Kiss me,” you instruct.

Michael lunges fast, but you dodge just in time, lips curving. “Nuh-uh,” you whisper. “You don’t get that yet.”

Luke seems to understand. He lowers his mouth to your jaw, lips grazing the delicate skin there. Your eyes flutter closed at the scrape of his teeth, a shiver chasing down your spine.

Michael lets out a frustrated grunt but relents, dragging his tongue down the side of your neck before kissing the sensitive spot just behind your ear.

A soft moan escapes you, one hand tangling in Luke’s hair, the other gripping Michael’s thigh. The pull toward both of them thrums through you, dizzying, irresistible, burning you alive with want. 

Luke pulls away with a growl, the sheer force of it setting the air between you alight. You blink at him, momentarily disoriented.

Then, without warning, he grabs Michael by the back of the neck and crashes their mouths together. A sharp gasp almost escapes you as you watch them collide.

Michael lets out a startled sound, but his hand rises instinctively to clutch Luke’s neck, and then he’s kissing him back. Their mouths move together sloppily, desperate, all teeth and need.

The bond surges through you, electric, and you press your thighs together against the ache. Your smirk grows as you watch Luke’s ringed fingers tear Michael’s hat off and fling it aside, tangling deep in his fiery red hair.

When Luke finally breaks away, his lips are swollen, breath ragged. Michael is left staring, stunned into silence.

That’s when Luke strikes again. He turns sharply, catching your mouth with his in a bruising kiss. One hand snakes down, sliding between your thighs, patting once before moving higher.

When his fingers brush the wet heat of your panties, a moan spills against his lips.

“You fucking asshole,” Michael hisses, dropping off the couch to his knees before the two of you.

You feel Luke smirk against your mouth. “May the best man win.”

Michael’s answering growl is the only warning before he’s prying your legs apart. Luke shifts your panties aside, a finger sliding through your soaked folds.

You moan into his mouth, fists clutching at his shirt, while Michael’s lips trace soft kisses up the inside of your thighs.

Luke pushes a finger inside you, curling it just right until your vision whites out—at the same moment Michael sinks his teeth into your thigh.

Euphoria detonates, the sharp pain of the bite blooming into raw pleasure. Your back arches, and Luke’s free hand clamps around your jaw, holding you still as his tongue teases along your bottom lip.

By the time Michael retracts his fangs, you’re already floating. Blood drips down your leg, staining the couch. Michael moans, his entire body shuddering at the taste.  His hands slide beneath your skirt, hooking the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs.

Cool air rushes over you, and you moan against Luke’s mouth. The slick sound of his fingers working inside you grows louder as he slips in a second.

Michael inches closer, his breath hot against your aching clit. Meanwhile, Luke drags his lips down your jaw and along your throat, sucking carefully at the soft skin.

Mindlessly, your hips grind against Luke’s fingers. Michael lingers, lips ghosting over the crease of your thigh before he finally licks a slow, teasing stripe across it.

Your breath shudders as Luke’s fingers find a perfect rhythm. His teeth graze your skin, never quite biting—just the threat of fangs pressed against your throbbing pulse.

The bond floods your veins, white-hot, and when Luke finally sinks his teeth into your neck, the sharp pierce nearly unravels you. At the same moment, Michael licks a slow, torturous circle around your clit.

Your back bows off the couch, their touch working in tandem to drive you mad. The connection thrums through you, hungry, insatiable, demanding more.

“Just like that, baby,” Luke whispers, pulling back from your neck. His voice is gravel, his lips wet against your ear. “Taking my fingers so well. You gonna tell Mike I’m the one making you feel good, right?”

Michael answers for you—his mouth sealing over your clit with a sudden, rough suck. Your legs quake, and a ragged cry rips from your throat as your fingers twist into his red hair.

He groans into you, pulling back just long enough to rasp, “Such a good fucking girl.” Then he dives back in, tongue flicking quick and precise.

A breathless laugh tumbles out of you, even as your body trembles. “Earn it,” you mewl. “Neither of you are earning anything at this pace.”.

Then—suddenly—Luke stills. His fingers stop, Michael pulls back, both of them pausing in confusion.

And before you can process, Luke sinks to his knees beside Michael. You blink down at them, dazed, venom-born euphoria still thrumming through your veins, every touch amplified to the edge of unbearable bliss.

You laugh, breathless. “I fucking love it when you fight.”

“I want a taste too,” Luke murmurs, parting your legs wider. He leans down, licking a determined stripe up your core that rips a loud groan from your throat.

Michael groans with you, his hand dropping to palm the bulge straining against his jeans. The outline is blatant, intimidating, and inviting all at once.

“That’s—” he cuts himself off, tongue darting across his red-stained lips. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Luke swirls his tongue around your clit, then pulls back just enough to lock eyes with Michael. One hand shoots up, cupping the back of Michael’s neck, dragging him closer.

“Then help me make a mess out of this pretty little doll,” Luke commands, eyes flashing a dangerous red. He pushes Michael down toward you, forcing his mouth between your thighs.

Your breath hitches as Michael’s tongue joins Luke’s, both of them working in tandem. They swirl, flick, and lap at your clit, the double sensation so overwhelming it knocks a gasp from your chest.

The sight is almost as consuming as the pleasure—the two vampires, lips brushing as they move together, tasting you at once, desperate and feral, their rivalry blurring into hunger. 

Luke pulls back, his thumb taking over where his tongue had been. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes heavy-lidded. He spits directly on your clit, and you cry out when his mouth returns to it.

A teasing finger circles your entrance, slow and maddening. It slips inside easily—followed by another.

When you glance down, both men are moving together, fingers pumping in and out of you while their tongues collide over your clit.

One of Michael’s hands clamps onto your thigh, fingers digging in until more blood wells from the bite there.

You’re trembling on the edge, eyes locked on the two vampires between your legs. The rough scrape of their stubble against your inner thighs makes you gasp, and your hand shoots out to clutch the couch cushion, searching for something to hold onto.

Your mind unravels under the sensation. Their skin is icy where their mouths are blazing, the contrast overwhelming. Your vision blurs white.

With a ragged scream, you let go. The orgasm crashes over you, devastating and all-consuming, as you grind helplessly against their faces. They hold your thighs open, forcing you to ride it out, milking every shudder until you’re trembling in their hands.

“Fuck, that’s it, doll,” Michael gasps, his fingers still moving inside you relentlessly. “Just like that—such a pretty fucking mess. Isn’t she, Luke?”

You’re still trembling, your body trying to come down from the high. Luke pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“The prettiest,” he agrees, turning to Michael. “You’re not done, are you?”

Michael shakes his head, eyes burning. “There’s a mating bond to sate. Of course I’m not done.”

He lunges forward, crashing his lips to Luke’s again. Both of them groan into the kiss, mouths moving hungrily, and you watch with rapt attention.

Your hand drifts between your legs, circling your oversensitive clit. Your thighs are still quivering, but the sight before you is too enticing to resist.

“You taste like her,” Luke mumbles, licking into Michael’s mouth. “So fucking good.”

Michael trails kisses down Luke’s neck, drawing a groan from the blond. Then his gaze flicks to you, fingers working between your legs.

You smirk, letting out an exaggerated moan. “Don’t stop on my account,” you whimper, circling faster. “I like the show.”

Michael sinks his teeth into Luke’s neck, and the groan Luke lets out in response is filthy. Their hips grind against each other, desperate for friction, for some kind of release.

“Sit,” Luke rasps through a ragged breath as Michael licks a stray drop of blood from his skin. “On the couch. Go.”

Michael pulls back, one brow arched. Luke’s narrowed eyes leave no room for argument. With a low exhale, Michael steps back and drops onto the couch.

“Touch her,” Luke instructs, his voice guttural.

Michael’s fingers replace your own, circling your clit with the same pace you’d set. The pleasure spikes—sharper, more electric simply because it’s his fingers now.

Luke cups your face between his hands, forcing your gaze to meet his. Blood still trails down his neck, the red far too vivid to be human.

He ducks his head and crashes his lips against yours. You can still taste yourself there, faint but lingering, and you groan into his mouth.

Michael’s lips find your shoulder, one hand tugging your shirt down until your breasts spill free. Leaning lower, he wraps his mouth around a nipple and sucks.

Luke’s grip is iron, one hand fisting the hair at the back of your head as his mouth moves filthily over yours, tongue sliding past your lips to lick into you.

Your hands scramble to the button of his jeans, flicking it open with practiced ease while Michael keeps sucking and biting at your nipple, his hands never stilling.

You’re so wet the sound of it seems to fill the room, louder than the bass still bleeding through the walls.

Frantically, you tug at Luke’s pants, feeling the aching length of him straining beneath the fabric. When you pull his underwear down, he springs free.

Luke doesn’t release your face, kissing you like he’s drowning. Blindly, you wrap your hand around him, thumb smearing precum across his tip.

While one hand strokes him, your other reaches for Michael. It’s a struggle undoing his jeans with one hand, but you manage.

“Such a filthy fucking girl,” he rasps against your ear, fingers picking up their pace. You whimper into Luke’s mouth, grabbing Michael’s cock with your free hand and pumping at the same speed you’re working Luke.

Michael moans, hips jerking into your grip. Luke groans against your mouth as you work both of them tirelessly.

“I need one of you inside me,” you mutter into Luke’s kiss. “Please—it hurts. I need to be full. I need to be so fucking full.”

Luke pulls back, a trail of spit connecting your lips as he exhales shakily. His gaze drops to your hand stroking his cock, then flicks to Michael, who’s getting the same treatment.

“Get on top of him, then,” Luke orders, hands falling from your face as he steps back.

You scramble to obey, swinging a leg over Michael’s thighs and straddling him. His hands clamp to your waist, gripping tightly as if to keep you there longer.

Bruises will bloom there later—you’re already thrilled at the thought.

You glance back at Luke, who’s standing a few feet away, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking lazily as he watches you and Michael.

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you pull it over your head and let it fall somewhere in the room. The only thing left on you is your skirt, bunched at your waist and covering nothing at all.

You turn back to Michael, the pull flaring hot beneath your skin as you lean in and press your lips to his. Slowly, you begin to grind against him, dragging your folds over the length of his cock in lazy, teasing strokes.

Michael moans into your mouth, his hands clamping tighter on your waist. Behind you, Luke is gasping, the slick sound of him working himself to the sight of you intoxicating.

“Please,” you breathe into Michael’s mouth. “I need you.”

Groaning, Michael bites your lower lip and nods. His hand darts between you, gripping his cock to line himself up with your entrance.

He drags it through your folds one last time, the ridge of the head catching on your clit. Then, without warning, he lines up and thrusts into you.

The length of him splits you open, the stretch so intense it rips a cry from your throat as you sink onto him until he’s buried to the hilt.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you. Luke moans at the sight, still stroking himself.

It takes a heartbeat to adjust to Michael’s size, but your body welcomes him, the pull between all three of you reaching a fever pitch. You moan helplessly, eyes fluttering shut.

Michael is just as loud, hissing curses under his breath. “You’re so tight, doll,” he groans. “Taking me like a good fucking girl. I know I’m big, baby, but you’re doing so good.”

You nod, too far gone for words. Slowly, you start to roll your hips.

Luke moves closer, climbing onto the couch and gripping your jaw to turn your face to him. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips, the scent of him enveloping you as Michael thrusts deep inside you.

You whimper, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room.

“Open,” Luke orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You wrap your lips around the tip of Luke’s cock, eyes rolling back at the sight of him above you. Michael’s hands grip your hips, lifting and guiding you up and down on him; you clench around him with every movement.

Spit dribbles down your chin as you work to take more of Luke into your mouth. Your legs tremble, every nerve sparking with pleasure.

Luke lets out a helpless moan, head tipping back as his hips begin to thrust into your mouth. He’s big, too, and your body aches for him even as your throat strains to take him.

“She’s so warm,” Michael pants, hips bucking helplessly up into you. “So fucking tight. You gotta feel her—feel our little fuck doll milking your cock.”

You gasp, and Luke pulls back from your mouth. He meets Michael’s eyes, a matching glint of mischief darkening his features.

Sliding off the couch, Luke rounds you until he’s behind you. “Is that right?” he taunts, voice low. “Think this greedy little thing can take both of us at the same time?”

You sob, bouncing faster on Michael’s cock. “Yes,” you cry, every sound tumbling helplessly from your lips. “I need you both. Please—just fuck me.”

“Such a good little slut for us,” Michael coos, lips dragging along your jaw before sucking at the curve of your neck. “Fuck, you’re dripping everywhere. Making a mess out of me, hmm?”

You nod just as Luke presses his chest against your back. Your bare breasts flatten against Michael’s chest, and you feel the blunt head of Luke’s cock teasing where you’re already so full.

“Are you gonna be a good little thing,” Luke murmurs, hand gripping the back of your neck, “and let us stretch you out—let us claim you?”

You nod rapidly, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips. The bond thrums harder, calling for Luke to fall into place and seal what brought you here in the first place.

The mating bond.

“That’s our good fucking girl,” Luke groans, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was already intense, but with Luke forcing his way inside alongside Michael it becomes overwhelming.

Tears streak down your cheeks as Michael catches your lips in a heated kiss. Luke keeps pressing deeper until he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight,” Luke groans, forehead dropping against your spine. “Already full, and still sucking me in like a greedy little thing.”

You tear your mouth away from Michael’s just as Luke bottoms out, a scream ripping free. Instinct takes over, and your fangs sink into Michael’s neck.

The sweet metallic rush floods your tongue, the taste enveloping your senses as every nerve ignites. Euphoria crashes through you, your body shaking, your mind going hazy at the edges.

They’re both inside you. Both of your mates.

Michael lets out a strangled cry, grinding into you. Luke pulls back only to slam forward again, neither of them giving you a moment to breathe as they piston their hips into you relentlessly.

Your screams of pleasure break into sobs, your mind unable to comprehend the searing level of sensation. The obscene friction pushes you toward an orgasm far quicker than you’d ever anticipated.

Luke reaches forward, gathering a smear of blood from Michael’s shoulder with his fingers and then pressing them into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around his digits, body rocking with each of their thrusts. Michael’s hand slides between you, fingers finding your clit with ease.

He rubs steady circles there in perfect rhythm with their movements. “Look at her,” he growls. “Taking us both so well. Doesn’t she look pretty with her pussy stuffed full?”

Luke hisses. “Wait until we’re both dripping out of her,” he snarls. “She’ll be leaving messes behind for days.”

“I’m gonna come,” you cry, burying your face in the crook of Michael’s neck. “Please don’t stop—fuck, I’m so close.”

Luke fists your hair, yanking your head back and using it as leverage to pound into you harder.

“Come for us,” he urges. “Need to feel this tight little cunt squeeze the life out of us. C’mon, pretty princess—don’t you wanna come?”

Michael’s fingers speed up, blurring with the rhythm of their thrusts. You shatter with a cry, body seizing and spasming as you clench helplessly around them, milking both cocks while you grind against them.

“Oh, fuck,” Michael manages before both men sink their fangs into your skin. The piercing pain blooms into overwhelming bliss, your stomach clenching as another orgasm crashes through you.

Pure euphoria floods your veins as their movements stutter. You convulse between them, their mixed groans a soundtrack to your never-ending bliss.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m coming,” Luke chokes out, a deep groan tearing from his throat. Michael follows a heartbeat later, moaning your name into your neck as the two of them empty themselves inside you.

Slowly, you start to come down. The bliss ebbs as their fangs withdraw, leaving you slumped between them like a corpse.

Well—more lifeless than usual.

“Fuck,” Luke hisses as he slips out of you, collapsing onto the sofa beside you.

Michael follows a beat later, and you feel both of their releases slick and warm on your thighs. The mess is too addictive to look away from.

You melt into the space between them, your brain still fuzzy from the bond’s aftermath. Michael’s hand drifts to your thigh, tracing lazy patterns against your skin.

Luke drapes an arm over your shoulders, tucking you against his chest before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hum contentedly, throwing your legs over Michael’s lap.

“I guess both of you really earned it,” you muse, a helpless laugh spilling out of you.

Michael chuckles, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “You’re stuck with us forever,” he says simply. “And we’re all stuck with each other. Might as well enjoy it.”

Luke bites his lip, head tipping back with a groan. “Fuck, I can’t wait to do this again.”

You shift, stretching with a sinful moan that makes both men perk up instantly. “This time,” you purr, batting your lashes, “I want to see you both choking on each other.”

Yeah. Spending eternity bonded to these two doesn’t sound so bad.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He tried to hide how nervous he was by swallowing after he said it. You laid on his chest, taking a deep breath before responding.

“For your birthday?”

You kissed the valley of Michael’s chest, tracing the rise of his nipple. It wasn’t surprising that he wanted to open up your bedroom by any means. You could tell that he thought about it based on jokes he would make and the list of people he found attractive. The thought was arousing, having two people to touch, to fuck, to be with at the same time. Michael kissed you firmly before cupping your backside with his left palm, his fingers moving as he spoke.

“For my birthday.”

The long conversation you had with Michael led you to where you were now: Luke’s apartment.

“He really wants to explore…a polyamorous dynamic. I do too, so I figured I would come to you first.”

Your voice trailed off when Luke’s mouth opened and then closed. The tension between the two of you existed long before the conception of this idea. Luke was beautiful. He was the kind of pretty that stuck with you, made you want to be anywhere that he was most of the time. Your attraction to him didn’t discount your feelings for Michael or anything you had with him. It simply made you wonder if you could explore more—possibly convincing him to see you in a romantic context.

Luke seemed like he could be open to it. You had seen him turn around and make out with whoever was giving him the most attention at the time. He was so free, willing to do anything once. It gave you an attraction to him that was volatile, usually throwing you into the depths of desire. You were trying to read his expression through his darting eyes.

“You know I like you, I like Michael too.”

Luke chose his words carefully. His hands were knit together, fingers toying with two of his rings, spinning them in the opposite direction.

His eyes were on yours when he gave you and earnest answer.

“I want to do it.”

You flushed when he finished his sentence, gripping the couch cushion under you to stay calm. Every instance of him brushing your fingers for a millisecond too long, lingering glances, his hand on your back at parties, even getting too close in a coat closet made sense in that loaded moment. Luke wanted you, too. It was as if he was transparent in that moment, his feelings for you made clear.

Luke moved from his side of the room to yours, joining you on the couch that suddenly seemed very small. His hand found your knee when you went to move over. It was gentle, guiding. His fingertips were warm as they cradled the skin there—imposing new meaning. Luke shifted before letting his right arm rest on the back of the couch, leaning his head back.

“So are you going to tell him the news? Or should we surprise him?”

*

“Come on.”

Michael pushed you against the wall, his lips on your neck as his teeth grazed over a mark he made earlier. You didn’t want to give away that someone was already in your bedroom—waiting to make Michael’s wish come true. You pulled on his belt loops, leading him down the hallway. His fingers flipped up them hem of your shirt when you made it to his bedroom door, pushing you inside with his lips locked on your earlobe.

“You’re already getting started, huh?”

Luke’s voice rang from the end of Michael’s bed. He was wearing a pair of grey pants and no shirt, leaning back as his necklace moved across his chest. Michael’s brows knit in confusion until he realized what was going on, looking to you in silence.

“I invited Luke.”

You pressed your hands into Michael’s chest. Looking up at him, a smile suggested that you arranged everything, just for him.

You pulled him towards the end of the bed—eyeing Luke before pulling your shirt over your head. Michael was focused on your chest. He traced your collarbones when Luke stood next to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. Michael’s lips went from your cheek to your lips, intensifying a kiss that felt like every part of his anticipation rested within it.

“This is so hot.”

Luke whispered his phrase into your ear, pressing his lips to the crest your jaw. Michael was touching him now, too, eager to unbutton his pants.

You were trying to get your bearings on who was doing what.

Michael was working on getting you naked—taking breaks to kiss down your skin as he pulled your jeans to the floor. Luke was working on your nipples, focusing his tongue on the rise of the textured skin. He wanted to get a reaction out of you. You could tell by the way he settled you back on the mattress, watching Michael pull off your underwear so roughly he almost ripped it. Luke kissed Michael when he pulled away from you for a moment, rubbing the tip of your nipples with his fingertips.

Everything intensified after that.

Michael put his hands on both sides of Luke’s face, kissing him passionately. His tongue searched Luke’s mouth while he palmed his erection—exposing him with a rough tug of his pants and boxers to the middle of his thighs. Luke mirrored Michael’s desperation as they kissed, unzipping his pants to see how he affected him. Luke pulled Michael closer when you pulled yourself back on the bed, watching them nearly fall on top of each other in lust. An ache of arousal settled between your legs as you saw Luke grind his hips into Michael’s shaft, rubbing himself into Michael’s body with everything he had.

It was had to think about anything but what would happen next.

You wanted to touch yourself. Your body screamed for stimulation as Luke and Michael were lost in their own world of desire, pulling their clothes off to the floor. You opened your legs when Luke pushed his slick tip into Michael’s, making him moan as he started to jerk him off.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Michael turned his head towards you when he saw your fingers right above your hole. You were caught off guard by him crawling over to you, spitting on your opening before pulling you closer by the calves. Michael’s mouth instantly made you sigh when he pushed his tongue inside of you—his fingers stretching you open for ease of access. Your arousal was violent now, making the edges of your vision blurry as your eyes aquatinted with the ceiling.

You felt a finger slide against your walls after crying out for Michael once again, only to spot Luke’s head in line with Michael’s. You were delirious when you realized Luke was fingering you while Michael licked. It was a sight that you knew you’d be thinking about for days after. Michael’s tongue picked up the pace in the mix of Luke sliding in another finger, scissoring his way back out of you and then plunging in, curving his fingers up and forward. Luke was enjoying every part of getting you off—intensifying his movements as he kissed your thigh. You let out a guttural sigh when you felt waves of pleasure build between your legs, letting yourself call out names and an array of curses.

“You sound like a whore. Is that what you are?”

Michael sucked on your skin and pulled back, pressing his lips together after he was pleased with the mark he made. You watch Luke and Michael settle at the end of the bed—fondling each other while looking at you. Luke reached for Michael’s shaft. He focused his fingers on his tip, concentrating his movements there until he he felt Michael’s hips moving in his direction. Luke guided his own length between them, eager to jerk them together for a mutual gratification. Luke whined when Michael’s hands joined his, stroking their erections with a drawn out breath. They were so good together, leaking, moaning, and rubbing until it looked like Michael was about to burst.

Luke responded to Michael’s arousal by leaning over to take his shaft in his mouth, taking him down his throat. It was clear that he had gotten practice from somewhere as he bobbed up and down Michael’s length, making it known that he knew how to get him off. Michael’s neck was exposed as he pushed the back of Luke’s head down, fucking his mouth.

Michael reached out for you as Luke moved from his shaft to his balls, sucking on the skin gently. You were on your knees when you came to him, eyes upturned to the sweat on his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. You were pulsing with desire for him in every sense—aching for his touch as you witnessed his hands in Luke’s hair.

When Luke came up for air, he instinctively bent over the side of Michael’s bed. He was ready for the next phase of your tryst, prepping himself for Michael’s throbbing length. You sat back and watched Michael come closer, pinching your left nipple as he spoke.

“I want you to watch what you’re about to get,”

You could hear the thick coat of arousal in his voice.

“You’re going to spread your thighs, touch yourself, and watch me fuck Luke. And then I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

Every receptor of arousal shot up at the presence of Michael’s dirty talk. It made you feel dizzy, hopeless with want.

“Understood, baby?”

You nodded with a hard swallow.

Michael moved to the right side of the bed, placing his hands on Luke’s lower back as he examined the work he had done on himself. His hole was lubed and ready. It was clear that Michael’s naked body behind Luke put him in a frenzy. He pushed his backside into Michael’s length, trying to inspire a reaction. Luke’s moans were enough for Michael to reach over and stroke his cock, tiding him over.

Michael lined himself up with Luke after letting go of his shaft. He pushed himself in after a delightful pause, bucking his hips into Luke. Michael looked blissed out fucking him, his head rolling back with each movement—thrusting at a steady pace. Luke called out Michael’s name as he grazed against his prostate, rubbing his cock into the comforter. You watched their bodies move in sync, lazily running your fingers in and out of your hole. You wanted to save yourself for Michael, relishing the fact that he could have you in any way he wanted. You were distracted by Michael’s hands on Luke’s torso, pulling him up from the bed at an angle so that he could fuck him harder.

You watched in awe.

Michael moved with an intensity that drove you wild, pushing and thrusting while Luke tried to reach for his own shaft. You moved closer to them to see if you could participate in the hedonism of the moment—catching the tip of Luke’s cock between your lips.

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t tell who said it. It was warranted from the sucking and moaning that was going on between the three of you. Michael grunted when Luke tipped over the edge, emptying himself in your mouth.

He learned forward—spent from the orgasm that had wracked its way through his body. You angled your face towards Luke to kiss him. He greeted you with an open mouth, his tongue sweeping your mouth for remnants of his own arousal. He looked at you with a gleam in his eye, still burning from the contact he had moments before.

Michael pulled out of Luke and came towards you, kneeling on the bed.

“Turn over.”

You did as you were told, waiting for Michael to touch you as you opened your legs a little wider. You waited for him to do something—angling your hips towards where you thought he was. You felt Luke’s hands on your backside, spreading your cheeks. You felt his tongue in your hole instead of his fingers, lapping at all sensitive areas in one flat movement of his tongue. You knew he was prepping your for Michael—getting you ready to be stretched beyond your limits. Luke stopped shortly after Michael’s hands fell on your nipples, tweaking them slightly as his erection bumped into your opening.

You needed him.

And he needed to see you wrecked.

Luke laid in the center of the mattress and watched Michael fuck you. He entered you after pushing you on your back, hungrily kissing your skin as he found a pace for his thrusts. Michael hungrily watched himself slide in and out of you. Alternating between fast and slow, he tried to frustrate you with very little consistency in his movement. You had been fucked by him many times before—but never like this—at the whim of his every deviant desire.

There was nothing Michael loved more than stretching you and teasing you—trying to make you crack before he got close. His teeth nipped your skin in most visible areas, leaving marks as he rammed his way inside of you. You could feel Michael sliding in and out, getting sloppy as you moaned his name at top volume. Michael’s eyes found yours as you tried to hold back your finish—keeping your gaze as you felt his shaft twitch inside of you.

“You like that, don’t you?”

You whined in response, trying to concentrate on the way Michael was holding your hips with a delightful amount of pressure. You could feel him, pushing himself in a rhythm with more power.

“Come for me, you little slut.”

You tried to resist him—his face, his eyes, the smugness in his voice. And yet, a crash of euphoric waves made their way over you as Michael approached his orgasm. You came all over him, mixing fluids while he picked up the pace. His entire face twisted in pleasure—holding you close as he came inside of you. You were reeling after he pulled out of you, trying to get a grip on reality.

It took minutes for you to regain your sense of what just happened, surveying the pile of clothes on the floor and the two very naked men on your bed. You moved between them after pressing a kiss to Michael’s lips, not surprised when Luke wanted one too.

Michael’s fingers traced a circle on the skin of your back when he started speaking, asking the question on everyone’s mind.