Dane finally speaks. “So, how are you feeling after last night?”
I blush, remembering how, after dinner, I’d begged them both to fuck me, and I came so hard I nearly passed out. “Good. A little sore, but...good.”
Dane’s eyes darken. “You’re a wonderful fucktoy. I’m glad Leo invited me for Christmas while you’re here and that you wanted this.”
My pussy clenches at his words, but an odd shyness makes me look away. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Look at me,” Dane commands, and I force myself to meet his gaze as he continues. “Never be ashamed of your desires. Embracing them is beautiful.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Dane’s thumb brushes over my lower lip, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. But then he pulls away, standing up.
“I should get ready to go,” he says, his voice slightly rougher than usual. “Finish your breakfast. You need something healthy and filling after last night.”
His eyes roam over my body, and my pussy lets me know she’s awake. The way he says “filling” makes me think of other ways he filled me last night.
Once he’s gone, I’m left alone with a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal and an aching need. Ugh. Why is no one using me this morning? They’re making me addicted to them and then leaving me alone. This is torture.
I’m too keyed up to finish my oatmeal, and I toss the rest in the trash. No one will ever know I didn’t finish it, and I really did try. It’s all Dane’s fault anyway for getting me worked up.
I move to my art studio and close the door. Morning light slants through the north windows onto the easel as I squeeze cadmium yellow and cerulean blue onto the palette.
When I pick up a brush, I just stand there.
All I can think about is last night. Leo bent me over the kitchen table after dinner and fisted his hand in my hair before fucking me hard enough to rattle the dishes. Dane watched from the doorway until it was his turn. Dane fucked me slow and deep until I was shaking and begging and the orgasms blurred together.
I drag the brush through yellow paint. One streak across the canvas.
It looks like nothing.
I try again, this time a loose curve of blue bleeding into yellow. My hand isn’t steady, and my mind just isn’t in the mood to paint. There’s a pleasant ache between my legs that keeps distracting me every time I shift my weight.
I eventually put the paints away and try to distract myself by reading. It doesn’t help. I don’t know how many times I orgasmed last night, but I’m greedy and want more today.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the buzz of my phone. It’s a text from Dane.
Dane:Hope you finished your oatmeal and you’re behaving yourself.
I bite my lip. What am I supposed to say to that? Before I can decide, another text comes through.
Dane:Remember, good girls get rewarded.
Mmm, I do like rewards. I type out a quick reply.
Alice:Always trying to be good.
That’s vague enough without admitting I wasn’t good. But shit, do I call him Sir, too? What does someone do when they have two dominant men?
His response is almost immediate.
Dane:That’s our girl.
Whoa,ourgood girl? My body zings alive, and I imagine what it would be like being both of theirs for real. Wait, what am I doing? I shouldn’t be flirting with Dane like this, not when Leo’s just in the other room. But god, the way Dane makes me feel...
Another text comes through.
Dane:Did you finish your breakfast?
Uh-oh. Well, I can’t admit it now. He just offered me a reward.
