Page 52 of Outcast

I blinked hard. All my awareness had traveled down to my core, which ached for one of them—all of them to pleasure me until I splintered. But that was the champagne. It had gone to my head and made me giddy. I staggered back into Henry’s arms.

“Emilia?”

“I’m…”

Edward got out of his seat and strolled across the room. “Back off, you two.” He took my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Sorry for the others’ heavy-handedness. It wasn’t our intention to get you inebriated and then overwhelm you.”

“It’s…” I swallowed. Words were becoming more and more difficult.

Edward walked me out of the room with a chaste arm at my back to keep me steady. Henry and Blake stood at the door, their eyes ablaze. Blake blew me a kiss, and Henry gave me a crooked smile. I suppose my wanton performance when the music had stopped gave them the answer to their question. I could handle them, but possibly not the alcohol at the same time.

Outside, the crisp air filled my lungs, cooled my overheated skin, and brought me to my senses.

Edward lifted my chin, meeting my eyes with an assessing gaze. “I couldn’t let things go any further with you in that condition.”

“T-thanks,” I murmured. His rescue was appreciated but unnecessary. Every kiss, every touch, every caress of the two men’s hands had set me aflame. I still wanted more, but a little voice in my head reminded me that this was the triumvirate. It would be foolish of me to give in to my desires when they might backfire.

Edward opened the door of the limousine, ushered me in, and climbed in after me.

“What about Blake and Henry?” My words came out slurred.

His lips formed a tiny smile. “They can entertain themselves.”

The limousine sped us back to Elder House, and Edward walked me through the building. A few stragglers milled around the hallways, gaping at the sight of us together. At my door, he took my hand and pressed his lips onto my knuckles.

“Please take your time and consider our proposal.” His smooth delivery made me wonder if he was talking about something other than sharing me with his two best friends. “Henry and Blake can be particularly persuasive. Try not to let them rush you into a decision.”

He straightened, turned, and strolled down the hallway, leaving me both confused and aroused.

I cleared my throat. “Mercia?”

He turned. “Call me Edward.”

“I don’t understand. Why me?”

Edward’s gaze lingered on my lips. “You know the three of us have been friends since we were eleven?”

“Yes.”

“This is something we’ve wanted to do since we were thirteen and fourteen, but until you arrived, we’d never agreed on a fourth.”

My breath caught. “Are you—?”

“That’s a subject best left to the privacy of my home, don’t you think?” He inclined his head. “Good night, Miss Hobson.”

“Emilia.”

A smile broke out across his face that made my heart melt. I’d seen him laugh, smirk, and even bare his teeth, but never anything so radiant. In a low, silky voice that made my toes curl, he said, “Good night, Emilia.”

The next few weeks were a blur of classes, prep, and sexual frustration. I ate with the triumvirate each mealtime, sat with them in classes, but received nothing from them except the chastest of kisses on the knuckles or cheek. Even dance practices were proper and respectable, held in the school ballroom with Rita and three other scholarship students as chaperones.

Most nights, I went to bed, thinking about that champagne-fueled Sunday evening, where we’d nearly lost control. Memories of the boys’ hands over my body, their erections grinding into my ass, and their lips on mine haunted my fantasies and morphed into dreams of the boys pleasuring me on Edward’s velvet sofa.

They were either waiting for me to approach them or biding their time until the Christmas ball.

* * *

One morning after breakfast, we stood in the reception hall checking our mailboxes, when Henry dropped his satchel with a thud. He stared at a piece of paper which hung loosely from his fingers.