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Pascal stood up and slowly crossed the floor, travelling across the ground to get to the one person in his life whohadalways been there. Midnight calls. Holidays. Rampant nights fucking without any other words but ones of care. Albeit, all of them delivered after the event had happened and his skin had been broken. But never, not once, had Pascal held him in his own arms and let him cry, pushed it from him. He’d heard it once. Listened to it all night and let it settle in the man’s soul. And watched once, wiped his brow in his night terrors. But never had he tried to hold him, offered that if needed.
Never.
He picked up his cane from the chaise and tucked it under his arm.“Alexander?” he called, softly.
No response. Nothing but an empty space and the sound of the two women they loved arguing. This was not a home at all.
Chapter 19
Lilah
On and on she goes. It’s like a fucking banshee in heat. I’ve stopped listening now, choosing to watch her rather than listen to anything that’s actually leaving her mouth. I reach for my drink and tip it to my lips, checking out the tension in her frame. She might need fucking. Or beating. I’ve never done that before, but I’ve done Alex now so what does it matter.
“He loves me. Me. Not you,” she spits, hair flying around in her fury. She’s right, he does, which is the very reason I offered him a chance at ripping my skin apart before he went to her.
I turn my back on her and gaze out the window of this palace, wondering what it all means as I gaze at the formality of it all. I suppose I always knew. I’ve seen the pictures of the gardens in front of me, had a delve around in his past to understand who he is, but being here brings it starkly back to the forefront of us. All this pomp and circumstance is him, isn’t it? It’s where he should be, and, not surprisingly, he’s in disarray about how that should work. I glance at the red ledgers and smile, and then to my laptop which now holds all the information necessary to tear shreds from any lawyer who might dare question what I’ve found.
“I will not have him just walk away and do this to himself. He needs me.” Beth still. I roll my eyes and undo my jacket, my finger crooking at her to follow me.
“No he doesn’t. Not yet. HeneedsPascal.” She doesn’t follow, and my eyes swing back sharply, heels being kicked from my feet at the same time. “You need to calm down, Beth. Come with me.” She frowns at me, hands on her hips as if she might just refuse and go running after them instead. “Now. Stop fighting me,” I continue, trying for the softness she needs and backing us both out of the room. Her shoulders drop from their aggression slightly, a haughty look coming at me. “Don’t you want to calm down? I think you do. Let me help you.” Her head tilts, features softening and feet continuing to follow. “You know I can. Alex did teach me after all.” My fingers begin peeling the shirt I’m wearing open, hands wandering over my skin. “Come on, Beth. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. I have.” The zip on my skirt lowers slowly as I back away from her some more, aiming for whatever bed I get to at the end of this vast corridor. “I think we should all just calm down and remember the love here. The hope?” I kick the skirt away, fingers still crooked at her as I push on one of the bedroom doors we found earlier. “Come in here and kiss me.”
“That’s not how this works,” she says, eyes looking away. Her feet still move forward, though. They still follow like a good girl should.
“It is if you want it to be.” I take a step towards her, decreasing our space, and reach my hand to her face. Mmm. She’s tense at first, a fire in her eyes trying to stop this. She thinks too much, worries too much. That’s not her job here with us. It never has been. All she has to do is enjoy the merits of three people caring for her, loving her for their own reasons. Not that I really do, but the two men out there somewhere do. They need her for all sorts of reasons. Hope perhaps. Honesty, but delivered with a softness I never achieve, nor want to. She’s the heart of us really. “Let boys be boys. I'll hold you instead, hmm? Love you.”
Her head flicks away from my hand, feet backing away. I shut the door before she can escape and press my back to it, fingers wandering over my skin again. It feels nice like this, calm and relaxed. Perhaps I should fuck more women. I watch her lips quiver, some residual challenge I suppose. I don’t care for it. She’s lost already.
“Come here, Beth.” She doesn’t. “Do you miss that name being used?” My hand drops along my skin, heading for my pussy. I gasp on contact, and slide my fingers in as my legs widen. I’m more aroused than I thought. I lick my lips and look at the bed. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed then. I’ll call you Beth. Keep it just for us when we’re together.”
I don’t know what changes in her mind, or care, but she does after a few beats of us staring at each other. Only a few seconds of her flicking her head to the door, and then to me, and now she’s here, with me, focused and forgetting about what the other two are getting up to out there. That’s what she needs. What I need actually.
I chuckle a little at my own thoughts and cross the floor to her, watching as she strips herself. She’s beautiful. Always has been, no matter the bitch like little mouth she uses to full effect when necessary. Long legs. Tainted skin from Alexander’s fun. And that mouth of hers, the one that refuses to bow down to him unless he makes it so? Clever little bitch.
“How much do you want from me?” I ask, as my fingers land on her chest. She moans immediately. A breathy little sound that causes all kinds of reactions in me. My pussy clamps on air, a desperation in it that makes me frown.
“I don’t know,” she says, her voice trembling.
“Mmm.” I lean in, lips searching for contact with hers for some reason. I haven’t wanted it before now. Never thought I would. And they’re so soft when I land on them. They’re featherlike, a breeze in them that neither Pascal nor Alex deliver. Another gasp escapes me as I increase the depth, letting her tongue come into my mouth and relishing the sensation. I break away, confused. “Ah, that’s what they taste in you.” Her eyes widen as I grab hold of her hip, nails dragging into flesh. “You’re sweet, Beth. Like cherries.” A groan comes from her then, one that increases as I push her backwards onto the bed and climb up onto it with her.
My hand wanders, touching everything she’s got without care to her wants. Even my lips meander, almost lost in the moment we’ve arrived in. No thoughts. No concerns. She’s like a breath of mornings, all of them laced with happiness and soft beginnings. I bite into her hip, tugging at the scrap of material that covers her pussy. She moans again and reaches for my hair, her body grinding under mine, as soft fingers try to pull me somewhere. I shake her hold and snap my own underwear out of the way so we can get closer. I need close now, need something from her that I don’t understand. And there’s only one place I’m going. I want a taste of her insides, want to feel that on my tongue and sense what they do. “Open your legs, Beth.” She does, instantly. No argument, no judgement. She does as she’s told without hesitation. Submissive, entirely.
Nothing like Pascal.
I roll my tongue over her hip bone, and then tug at her piercing, enjoying the sharp yelp that comes from her pain, and then taste all the way down to her shaven mound. She’s exquisite there, too. Perfectly made and ripe for using until she bleeds.
My tongue laps gently, feeding its way inside her. She’s divine. Creamy and rich on my taste buds, as my hands hold her still beneath me. My mouth works harder, wanting to hear more of her approval. I need it for some reason, need the sounds of her beneath me and the latent memory of a time before all these men I hold power over. She’s feeding me with something no man has given, or could.
“Oh, God. Lilah,” she says, moaning out more approval. “I’m going to come.” Of course she is. She’ll come when I ask. Bend when I ask. Break, too, if I ask that of her, but that’s not for now. Now is for easy hands and smiles. Groans and need. I nip at her clit, running my teeth over the lump of flesh and then laving my tongue quicker, increasing her moans even more. “Fuck.” Mmm.
My hand creeps up her legs, lips leaving her so I can slide up beside her and kiss her mouth again. I want it, want to come with her and swallow those sounds she makes. And I want her fingers on me, too, want them to dig inside me and bring me off at the same time.
“Have you ever made a woman come?” I ask, mouth hovering over hers as I lay at her side. She shakes her head, hesitant fingers trying to touch me. I take hold of them and put them on my skin, pushing some strength into them to help her on her journey. “Touch me, Beth. Make me come with you.”
It’s gentle at first, cautious, but it doesn’t last long. The second my lips meet hers again she increases her hold on me, her own hands going straight where I want them to end up. She curls them into me without any care for what she’s doing, almost as if she’s more in tune with this than I am. Maybe she is. Who fucking knows or cares at the moment, and the gasp that leaves me proves she knows exactly what she’s doing regardless.
I moan through our lips, enjoying the soft touch of delicate fingers widening me, and the palm of her hand rubbing against me as her fingers dive back and forth. The way she just knows pressure without the need for instruction? Fuck.It makes megroan out loud, my fingers going back to her pussy again. Together. We’ll come together, find out whatever the hell this is – together.
“Jesus,” pants out of her, lips crashing more fiercely into mine. She’s right. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. No harshness. No sense of attack. Just the two of us, fucking each other with fingers and relishing the sense of closeness that brings. It’s damn near euphoric. A sense of harmony involved that I can’t even begin to …
