Page 34 of Revenge

I giggled. “Oh? Which one of you is planning to penetrate me first?”

“Blake,” said Edward with a chuckle. “He’s the smallest and can ease you in.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Blake snapped. “Edward’s going in first. He’s the one they call mushroom-man.”

I would have doubled over with laughter if my corset wasn’t holding me upright. With my wig and little mask, I could appear on camera, and no one would know my identity.

I turned to face Henry, who still had his arms wrapped around my waist. “How about you?”

“If you don’t mind, I could go first and break you in nice and gently for Blake and Edward.” He pressed his lips onto mine, tasting of mint and champagne.

I stepped away from his embrace. “How generous. But I’m not nearly drunk enough to lose my virginity to three men.”

“We brought absinthe,” said Blake. “One hundred milligrams of thujone. Guaranteed to melt your inhibitions along with your pesky hymen.”

My eyes widened. Absinthe that strong wasn’t even sold in the UK. This would be perfect for making them loosen up. “You remembered.”

“Paul did.” Edward pulled the small bottle of fluorescent liquid out of his jacket pocket.

I pointed at the wooden cabinet on the wall. “There’s plenty of champagne in there.”

“How did you manage to get a room like this?” asked Blake.

“The host gave it to Sergei,” the lie slipped from my lips like butter. “But when I told him I wasn’t ready to spend the night with him, he decided to leave.”

Henry squeezed me tighter and pressed a kiss on my temple. “You made the right choice.”

Blake opened the fridge, pulled out two bottles of champagne, and handed one to Edward. With the greatest of care and very little spillage, they popped the corks and drank straight from the bottle. While the triumvirate downed their champagne in long, deep drags, I took tiny sips to coat my lips, but nowhere near enough to even get tipsy.

After they’d nearly finished their bottles, Henry spun me around and kissed me on the lips. Before he could slip me his tongue, Blake twisted me toward him and gave me a drunken, sloppy kiss. I placed my hands on his chest to give him a shove, but Henry wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off my feet. “Come on, virgin. Let’s deflower you.”

I threw my head back and laughed. Maybe I’d wait a little before bringing up International House. “Don’t I get a say in this matter?”

“Only on the position.” Blake scrambled onto the mattress. “Bring her here.”

I rolled my eyes and let Henry place me smack in the middle of the bed. Then he crawled over and fumbled at my waist. “How do I take it off?”

“Roll her onto her front,” said Blake.

I raised a hand and slurred my voice. “Here’s where I exercise my choice over positions. I want to lie on my back, propped up with pillows, while you two take turns kissing me until I beg for it.”

Blake growled. “Begging sounds good.”

Henry’s lips descended onto mine in an impatient kiss of teeth and tongue that sent jolts of excitement down my body. Blake kissed a trail down my neck, along my collar bone and over the swell of my breasts. I squeezed my legs together and groaned. Even sloppily drunk, the boy knew what to do with his lips.

Henry’s fingers circled my right breast, moving over bare skin and the part of my chest encased within the bodice. His tongue slid against mine in a series of caresses that made me arch my back and grab at his broad shoulders. I’d barely had anything to drink, but the pulse between my legs pounded in time with my heart, and slickness gathered in my panties.

If I didn’t slow down, I might lose control and show them how to unfasten my gown. Then we’d all get too distracted to talk about International House, and I would fail my assignment. I pushed away considerations of Rudolph’s retribution. Thoughts about him didn’t belong in any kind of boudoir.

I broke away from henry’s lips and gasped. “Thirsty.”

Blake reached for the champagne, but I said, “Absinthe.” I needed to get them so drunk, they couldn’t function. Then they would spill their guts and tell me everything Jackie needed to know. Clicking my fingers, I said in my most commanding voice, “Bring it here.”

Edward appeared from behind the curtain and produced the opened bottle. He gulped a mouthful and passed it to Blake, who took a swig and passed it to me.

I let the tiniest of splashes land between my lips, then I stuck out my tongue. “Bleurgh! It doesn’t taste right.”

Henry took a long sip, grimaced and handed it to me. “It’s fine.”