Page 5 of Deposed

“I am so sorry,” he murmured into my hair. “These people are continuing to make you suffer.”

I drew back and stared into his bright eyes. “Huh?”

“You feel guilty, even after everything they did to you.”

“But Edward’s father got arrested—”

“Which would have happened eventually when someone else exposed the headmaster.”

My mouth dropped open, and a gasp caught in my throat. Sergei was right to some extent. It hadn’t been like I was manufacturing stories. Everything I’d shared with the Correspondent had happened of its own accord, but I was still eaten up by guilt. “Friends don’t report friends to the papers.”

Sergei clasped my shoulders with both hands and gave them a gentle squeeze as though telling me to wake up. Two lines appeared on his brows as he drew them together. “And friends do not frame friends for their own crimes.”

“Thanks.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I really needed that.”

Later that evening, my phone buzzed as I was dozing off. I rolled over to the bedside table and glanced at the screen. Edward’s text said, I suppose you’ve left the country.

The lack of anger or recrimination in his message made my heart sink. It was as though realization had finally dawned, and he’d resigned himself that I had gone. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back into slumber, but my mind kept dredging up images of Edward’s blue eyes, filled with wonder as I surrendered my virginity to him.

My eyes opened, and I bolted upright, pressing a palm over my aching chest. I hadn’t counted on hurting him that much, and when the Saturday Correspondent published an article on the papers he had entrusted to me, it would rip out what was left of his heart. I clenched my fists and let out a frustrated breath. If I kept letting thoughts of Edward haunt my mind, sleep would evade me for an eternity.

Mom used to give me a glass of milk when I couldn’t sleep. Maybe a drink might clear my mind. I slipped out of bed, padded across the little room, and opened the door.

The mezzanine was dark with only the barest of light at the lower level. As I reached the bannister, a low, male chuckle resounded from below. I peered down to find a shirtless Andreo lying on the sofa with his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut. Sergei straddled his thighs, clad in a black robe that exposed his muscular back.

My lips parted, and every ounce of my attention fixated on the two men.

Sergei kissed a path along Andreo’s jawline, then sucked on his lover’s neck. He held the larger man down by the wrists, making him writhe and strain against his hold. Andreo’s low, resonant moan sent tingles between my legs, and I swallowed hard. This was unbelievably hot.

The lower Sergei kissed, the more he exposed of Andreo’s tanned, muscular body, and the more those muscles bunched and strained against Sergei’s hold. Andreo clenched his teeth and forced out some words in strained Russian. From his tone and the way he bucked against Sergei, he probably wanted an end to the slow teasing.

Sergei chuckled and shuffled further down Andreo’s body, revealing the other man’s collarbones and muscled pecs. I bit my lip and stifled a moan.

This was so much like the Valentine’s party with Henry and Blake. Except they wouldn’t have objected to me gaping at them. Sergei pinched Andreo’s nipples, making the other man suck in a breath through his teeth and hiss something out in French.

One of Sergei’s hands reached down between their bodies, and Andreo let out a sigh of both pleasure and relief. I gripped the bannister and squeezed my thighs together. At any moment, Sergei would go down on his lover, and I’d intrude further on their private moment. I had to leave. Now.

When Sergei’s arm started moving, I released my grip on the wood and backed away. I stepped into my room and eased the door shut, careful not to make a sound and let them know I’d been watching.

The drapes of my room were open, revealing the suspension bridge in its illuminated splendor. Its lights reflected on the river, but I couldn’t focus on the magical view. Not when I’d seen Sergei and Andreo together. Not when they reminded me so much of Henry and Blake.

I flopped on the bed, a mass of frustration and need. After what I’d just seen, I would never get to sleep. Each breath, every movement, brushed my hardened nipples over the cotton of my nightgown and sent tiny thunderbolts of arousal between my legs. One thigh crossed over the other, and hot pulses of pleasure rippled through my core.

“This isn’t working.” I parted my thighs and pulled my nightgown up to my hips.

Cool air swirled between my legs, over my clit, reminding me of the wetness in my core. I groaned and reached between my thighs. The tip of my finger skimmed my throbbing nub, and I drew in a breath between my teeth. Even though Sergei and Andreo had triggered this arousal, it seemed rude to think of them while I masturbated, so I cast my mind back to what I’d seen at the Valentine’s party.

Cast my mind back to Blake, sprawled beneath a half-naked Henry, kissing him with abandon.

I dipped the pad of my fingertips into my sopping core and gathered enough moisture to let them glide over my throbbing clit in little circles. My nipples tightened, demanding my attention, and I rolled my right one between my fingertips and rubbed harder on my twitching nub.

Blake, with his hands on Henry’s tight, muscled ass, invaded my thoughts.

I parted my legs as far as they would go, remembering now the two boys had knelt in front of me, servicing my needs with their fingers and tongues. I increased the pressure on my clit and bit down hard on my bottom lip, imagining the finger belonged to someone else.

In my mind’s eye, Blake’s full lips wrapped around Henry’s length, making the other boy moan and shudder and groan.

The muscles of my core tightened with each stroke of my clit, and pleasure built to the rhythm of my movements. I squeezed my eyes shut and tweaked my nipple, just as Edward had done the day the triumvirate thought they’d seduced me into forgiving them.