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Chapter 14: Sky High

Auteur: Phayvord
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2026-03-12 11:23:15

Bella’s POV

The jet levels out at cruising altitude with a gentle sigh of hydraulics.

The cabin lights dim to a soft gold.

Outside the oval windows, nothing but black—endless, star-pricked black—and the faint glow of distant cities far below like scattered embers.

We’re airborne.

We’re gone.

And for the first time in days, the knot in my chest loosens just enough to breathe.

I’m still straddling Nico’s lap in the wide leather seat.

Victor is behind me—kneeling on the floor between Nico’s spread thighs—mouth pressed to the small of my back, hands gripping my hips to keep me steady while Nico stays buried deep inside me.

They haven’t pulled out.

Not yet.

Nico’s hands are gentle now—sliding up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, fingers tracing the faint bruises they left earlier. His mouth finds my collarbone. Kisses softly. Then sucks—slow, deliberate—marking me again in a place the hoodie won’t hide.

Victor’s tongue traces my spine—vertebra by vertebra—until he reaches the dimples above my ass. He bites one gently. Then the other.

His hands slide around to join Nico’s on my breasts. Four hands on me at once.

Two mouths.

Two cocks still inside me—Victor having eased back in beside Nico the moment the landing gear retracted.

The stretch is obscene.

Burning.

Perfect.

I rock between them—tiny, helpless movements—too full to do anything more.

Nico groans against my throat. “You feel us both?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “God—yes.”

Victor’s voice is low, rough, vibrating against my lower back.

“Tell us what it feels like.”

I swallow. Try to find words.

“Full,” I breathe. “So full I can’t think. Like you’re everywhere. Like you’re… holding me together.”

Nico’s hips lift—just a fraction. Enough to drag both of them along every sensitive wall.

I whimper.

Victor’s fingers pinch my nipples—sharp enough to make me arch.

“More,” I beg.

They give it to me.

Slow at first—coordinated, careful thrusts. One in while the other withdraws. Friction on every inch. The wet sounds are loud in the quiet cabin—slick, filthy, intimate.

Nico’s mouth moves to mine. Kisses me deep. Tongue stroking in time with his hips.

Victor’s hand slips between us. Middle finger circles my clit—slow, steady pressure.

I’m trembling already. Overstimulated. Overwhelmed.

They pick up speed.

Harder.

Deeper.

The seat creaks beneath us.

My nails dig into Nico’s shoulders.

Victor’s free hand grips my throat—not choking, just holding. Possessive.

His teeth find my earlobe. Bites. Tugs.

“Come for us,” he growls. “Right here. Thirty thousand feet up. While we’re both fucking you.”

The command tips me.

I shatter—hard, sudden, violent. Clenching around them both. Milking. Pulling them deeper.

Nico curses. Thrusts once more. Comes with a low, guttural sound—hot pulses joining Victor’s earlier release.

Victor follows seconds later—growling my name against my neck, flooding me again.

We stay locked together for long minutes—breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat.

No one speaks.

The pilot’s voice eventually crackles over the intercom—soft, professional.

“Cabin crew, we’re stable at flight level three-five-zero. Smooth sailing to Grand Cayman. Estimated arrival 05:20 local. Please let me know if you require anything.”

Victor reaches over lazily. Hits the mute button.

Silence returns.

Nico finally eases out—slow, careful.

Victor follows.

Cum leaks from me in thick rivulets—runs down my thighs, drips onto Nico’s lap.

Neither man moves to clean it up.

They just watch—dark-eyed, possessive—like the sight is sacred.

Victor stands first. Lifts me gently. Carries me to the private bedroom at the rear of the jet.

There’s a small shower stall—barely big enough for two, let alone three.

We don’t care.

They strip what little clothing remains.

Guide me under the hot spray.

They wash me again—hands everywhere. Soap suds sliding over breasts, stomach, between my legs. Fingers gentle now. Reverent.

Nico kneels—kisses my belly. Presses his forehead there for a long moment.

Victor cups my face. Kisses me slow—deep, unhurried.

When we’re clean, they towel me dry.

Wrap me in a plush robe from the closet.

Lay me in the narrow bed.

Climb in on either side.

Nico spoons me from behind. Arm banded around my waist. Hand splayed protectively over my stomach.

Victor faces me. Laces his fingers with mine. Kisses my knuckles.

No more words.

Just the hum of engines.

The soft rise and fall of their breathing.

The steady beat of three hearts—mine, Nico’s, Victor’s—syncing in the dark.

We’re safe.

For now.

But I know—deep in my bones—this is only the beginning.

There will be new enemies.

New betrayals.

New choices.

But tonight—tonight we sleep.

Together.

Whole.

Claimed.

And tomorrow…

Tomorrow we start building something no one can take away.

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  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 14: Sky High

    Bella’s POVThe jet levels out at cruising altitude with a gentle sigh of hydraulics.The cabin lights dim to a soft gold.Outside the oval windows, nothing but black—endless, star-pricked black—and the faint glow of distant cities far below like scattered embers.We’re airborne.We’re gone.And for the first time in days, the knot in my chest loosens just enough to breathe.I’m still straddling Nico’s lap in the wide leather seat.Victor is behind me—kneeling on the floor between Nico’s spread thighs—mouth pressed to the small of my back, hands gripping my hips to keep me steady while Nico stays buried deep inside me.They haven’t pulled out.Not yet.Nico’s hands are gentle now—sliding up my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, fingers tracing the faint bruises they left earlier. His mouth finds my collarbone. Kisses softly. Then sucks—slow, deliberate—marking me again in a place the hoodie won’t hide.Victor’s tongue traces my spine—vertebra by vertebra—until he rea

  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 13: Midnight Run

    Nico’s POVThe dashboard clock glows 21:47.Less than three hours until wheels-up.The bunker feels like a coffin now—too quiet, too clean, too full of the scent of her skin and the ghosts of what we just did. Bella is asleep between us on the bed, curled on her side, one hand resting protectively over her lower belly even in sleep. Her breathing is slow, deep, the kind of exhausted peace that only comes after your body has been pushed past every limit.I can’t sleep.Victor can’t either.He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, elbows on knees, staring at the weapons laid out on the steel table like they’re old enemies he’s forced to work with. His shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, raven ink stark against pale skin. He looks like a man counting down to execution.I stand. Walk to the monitors. Check the feeds again—third time in ten minutes. Streets still empty. No black SUVs. No shadows moving wrong. Yet.Victor speaks without turning.“She’s going to hate us if we don’t

  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 12: The Last Night Underground

    Victor’s POVThe bunker feels smaller tonight.The air is thick with the scent of her—sweat, arousal, the faint copper tang of our mingled release—and the low hum of the ventilation system is the only thing keeping me from losing my fucking mind.I’ve never shared anything. Not power. Not territory. Not a woman.And yet here I am, watching Nico bury his face between Bella’s thighs while she arches off the bed, fingers knotted in his hair, moaning his name like a prayer.I should hate it.I should want to put a bullet in him for touching what’s mine.Instead I’m rock-hard, pulse hammering in my cock, and the only thing stopping me from joining them is the need to watch her fall apart first.She’s beautiful when she comes undone.Always has been.But this—her body stretched between us, slick and swollen from hours of being used, eyes glassy with pleasure and exhaustion—is something else entirely.Nico’s tongue lashes her clit in relentless circles. Two fingers pump inside her, curling a

  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 11: The Last Safe Hours

    Bella’s POVThe bunker lights dim automatically after twenty-four hours—some kind of energy-saving protocol that turns the main room into a soft amber cave. Shadows stretch long across the concrete, turning every edge into something sharper, more dangerous. The monitors flicker with silent feeds: empty streets above, rain-slicked alleys, the occasional patrol car that never lingers.We have maybe twelve hours left before the window closes.Twelve hours to decide if we run, fight, or burn everything down together.Nico is at the steel table, hunched over a burner laptop, fingers flying across keys as he reroutes accounts, scrubs digital footprints, sets false trails that will lead any pursuer in circles for weeks. His shirt is open, sleeves rolled to the elbows, fresh bruises blooming purple along his knuckles from the fight upstairs. Every few minutes he glances up—first at the monitors, then at me.Victor stands at the weapons rack, methodically checking magazines, sliding knives int

  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 10: No Way Out

    Bella’s POVThe bunker’s air is cool and still, almost clinical, like the inside of a vault that’s been sealed for decades. The only sound is the low hum of the ventilation system and the occasional drip from a pipe somewhere in the walls. No windows. No clocks. Time feels elastic here—stretched thin, then snapped back without warning.We’ve been underground for what feels like hours, maybe a full day. I’ve lost track. My body is a map of their hands: faint bruises on my hips where Nico gripped me too hard, a red bloom on my neck from Victor’s teeth, the dull ache between my legs that reminds me every time I shift that they’ve both been inside me—together, separately, again and again.We’re lying on the king bed now, sheets kicked to the foot. I’m in the middle, as always. Nico on my left, one arm thrown possessively across my waist, face buried against my shoulder. Victor on my right, propped on one elbow, tracing invisible patterns across my stomach with the tip of his index finger.

  • My Billionaire Ex Or My Mafia Bestie    Chapter 9: The Bunker

    Bella’s POVThe warehouse on Flushing looks abandoned from the outside—rusted chain-link fence, broken windows, graffiti tags bleeding down brick walls like old wounds. Nico kills the engine in the shadowed loading bay. The silence that follows is louder than the rain drumming on the roof.Victor gets out first. Scans the perimeter with the cold efficiency of a man who’s done this too many times. He signals once—clear.Nico opens my door. Offers his hand. I take it. His fingers are still faintly bloody from the fight; mine shake when they lace with his.We move fast—through a side door, down a narrow concrete stairwell lit only by motion-sensor LEDs that flicker on like wary eyes. Three flights down. The air grows cooler, damper, smelling of old metal and damp earth.At the bottom: a heavy steel door, keypad glowing red.Victor punches in a code.Nico adds a second sequence.The lock hisses. The door swings inward on silent hydraulics.Inside is nothing like the safe house.Reinforced

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