September came with crisp air and dry oak leaves blowing down Amsterdam Avenue.
My first seminar in landscape design met on Monday mornings at Avery Hall.
Sitting in the drafting room with my sketchbook open, surrounded by nineteen-year-old undergraduates worrying about midterms, felt completely grounded.
None of them knew where I spent my weekends or whose names were on the deed for the thirty-acre valley upstate.
By Thursday afternoon, I was out of my lecture clothes and back in heavy canvas pants and leather work boots.
The first phase of the park construction was underway.
Yellow excavators sat near the tree line, their diesel engines idling as the crew laid crushed granite along the central walking trail.
The old driveway was gone, buried under three inches of topsoil and grass seed.
I stood near the creek bank with a rolled blueprint under my arm.
Vin was forty yards away, wearing a black t-shirt and work gloves, guiding a small crane operator as they lowered two massive granite steps into the bank where the old garden wall used to stand.
A black sedan stopped on the dirt access road.
Shawn got out first, tossing his suit jacket onto the back seat, followed by Lucian.
They walked down the dirt path toward me.
“The state permit for the stone bridge cleared,” Lucian said, stopping beside me and looking at the crew working along the water.
“The city inspector signed off without asking for a second review.” “Your drawings didn’t leave them anything to question,” Shawn said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
His fingers were warm against my cold cheek.
“How was the lecture this morning?” “Good,” I said.
“Professor Hayes wants to use our creek drainage design as a case study for the second-year class.” Lucian smiled, his fingers resting on my lower back.
“Tell him he has to pay consulting fees.” Vin walked up from the bank, taking off his leather gloves and wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.
“The lower steps are level.
We can set the timber handrails tomorrow before the rain hits.” We walked back to the stone gatehouse as the sun dipped behind the western ridge.
The iron stove was already lit, casting a red glow across the newly finished oak floor.
The room smelled of pine smoke and wet soil.
I set my blueprint tube on the small side table by the door.
Shawn walked up behind me, unzipping my canvas jacket and letting it fall to the floor.
His hands moved over my waist, pulling my back against his chest.
“You’ve been on your feet since six,” Shawn said, his mouth brushing the skin behind my ear.
“I’m fine,” I said, turning in his arms to look at him.
He didn’t answer with words.
He unbuttoned my shirt, sliding the heavy cotton off my shoulders.
Lucian stepped up beside us, unbuckling his belt and tossing it onto the wooden bench near the door, while Vin pulled his t-shirt over his head and kicked off his work boots.
There was no fear left in this room.
No past debts, no secret files, and no dark rooms.
Vin took my hand, pulling me toward the broad wooden table he had built in the center of the main room.
He sat on the edge of the table, pulling me between his knees, his hands sliding down my thighs to strip away my pants and underwear.
I stood bare between his legs in the warm firelight.
Lucian stepped up behind me, his hands resting on my hips, his chest warm against my back.
He reached down, his fingers spreading my wet lips from behind, finding my peak and rubbing it in steady circles.
I let out a low breath, my head resting back against Lucian’s shoulder as his thumb worked my clit.
Vin reached out, his big hands gripping my waist.
He held his hard dick in one hand, positioning it at my entrance, and pushed straight inside me with one smooth stroke.
My inner walls stretched around his thick shaft, my legs opening wider to take him all the way to his hips.
Vin grunted, holding my waist firm as he established a deep, heavy rhythm, his hips bumping against mine with a quiet thud.
Shawn knelt on the wooden floor right beside the table.
He reached up, his hand cupping my breast, his thumb rolling over my hard nipple while his mouth took mine in a deep, wet kiss.
Lucian stayed close behind me, his chest pressed flat to my back, his hand sliding down between my stomach and Vin’s hips to rub my swollen clit right where Vin entered me.
The double feeling was intense and clean.
Vin’s deep thrusts filled my pussy completely, Shawn swallowed my moans, and Lucian’s fingers worked my peak without stopping.
My body relaxed into the movement, my hips rising to meet every push from Vin.
“That’s it, Lyra,” Vin rasped into my neck, his hands digging into my thighs as his pace quickened.
My belly tightened hard.
The heat built up fast and sharp until my whole frame trembled.
My inner muscles clenched tight around Vin’s dick, pulsing hard as a sharp climax hit me from my hips straight down to my toes.
I groaned into Shawn’s mouth, my legs wrapping around Vin’s waist as my pussy clamped down on his length.
Vin held me tight, his body going rigid as he slammed deep inside one last time, releasing his heavy warmth inside my core.
Lucian pulled me back off Vin, guiding my bare body onto the broad oak table.
He stood between my open knees, his hard shaft slick at the tip, and pushed deep inside me in one firm drive.
He didn’t rush.
He fucked me with long, steady strokes, his hands locked in mine on the wooden surface while Shawn kissed my cheeks and neck.
Every push hit deep inside me until Lucian let out a dark growl, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard inside my wet pussy.
When it was over, we lay together on the thick wool blanket spread in front of the wood stove.
The rain started outside, tapping softly against the glass windows of the gatehouse.
I lay with my head on Lucian’s shoulder, my hand resting against Vin’s arm, while Shawn pulled the blanket over my bare back.
The old mansion was dirt and grass.
The park was built.
And the life I wanted was right here in the room.