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“Yes,” she hisses, her hand still working me faster. I break my lips from her, resting them on her forehead instead as I tremble in her hands. So much passion. Some sense of need that I can’t process. My legs widen, desperation trying to bring me off quicker.
“Your mouth,” I spit out, pushing her away from me and forcing her head towards my pussy. She’s down there before I know what’s hit me, her lips smothering me as she laps and nips. Oh God. My hands clamp her head, fingers holding her as my own hips rock and grind. “More, Beth. More.” My fingers tighten, forcing more pressure to where I need it. And then her fingers join in, at least three of them reminding me of his hands, and his hold, and the way he rips at my insides and makes me come. “Fuck.”
My shoulders tense, a ricochet of sensation elevating my spine from the sheets as I hold her there on me. Shockwaves carry on, building the orgasm into something I’ve never had, even with him. It’s sensual. Different. A blur of femininity and lasting thoughts that control everything in the room. Her, me. Something neither of us knew we wanted until it happened. I can’t breathe through them. Not because of pain, or because of need, but because they’re making me smile. I’m smiling and staring upwards, gasping for air and seeing nothing but stars and happiness.
Hope, even.
She slows after a while, her head pushing on my hands as if she wants to stop. I don’t want her to stop, and the pressure I shove at her proves my point. She laughs. It’s cute.
“He does that,” she mumbles, into my pussy. The vibrations make me laugh. And the thought. Still, she’s not stopping. I want another one of those thank you very much. Actually, I look down at her.
“Which one?” I let go a little, letting her face look up at me. She smirks and licks her tongue across her lips.
“Both of them.” Not surprising. I shove her head back down again, not ready for this little interlude in gods knows what to end.
“Do it again.”
“No.” My smile increases. Bitch. My head lolls back to the pillow, some part of me trying to work out what the hell I’ve just done and the other not giving a flying toss. It is what it is, and one way or another maybe it should just be that.
“You’re much more compliant when we fuck. We should do it more often.” She giggles and begins moving her way up me, lips kissing my skin as she does. I’m not sure how compliant that is, but I don’t seem to be able to stop her for reasons unknown.
“I liked it,” she whispers, settling herself between my legs. Mmm. “I suppose that means I kind of like you.”
“Of course you do. And you need to get over whatever your problem is with me fucking Alex. It was done for you. No other reason.” She pouts and puts her hands on my chest, her chin resting on them. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yes it will.” My brow arches at her immediate comeback. She smiles, though. A warm smile to some degree. “It was the one thing I had over you. Now, I have nothing.”
“You think this is a fight?”
“No, not a fight, but it is bit tricky to navigate. Even you, with all your order and control, have to admit that.” I pull myself up the bed and knock her away from me, irritated that she’s bringing matters into things that have nothing to do with anything. Certainly nothing to do with my quite orgasmic orgasm that she should be giving me more of.
“Why do you over confuse things? It’s not tricky. He loves you, not me.” My legs slide to the side, eyes searching for underwear again only to become bored with the thought of covering myself at all. “I’m hungry.” I get up and strip my bra off, tossing it to the side.
“Fruit?” I nod. Good plan. “Do you think they’ll be finished?” God knows with those pair. I walk over to the door and look out into the hallway. There’s no one around. It makes me wonder about servants, or lack thereof, and then with that comes kitchens and food. “I’m still worried about him,” she muses. I don’t know why. He’ll be fine once they’ve gotten it out of their systems.
“I need food.”
“You’ve said that,” she says, walking up beside me with her effortless skin on show and hovering by the door with me. “And I’m still worried about him, Lilah. He’s a mess. Whatever that was earlier proved it.” No he’s not. He needs seeing to, or talking to, or perhaps even holding again while he pours out some of his own home truths. And none of that she needs to hear or see.
“He’ll be fine. Where do you think the kitchens are?” I look both ways, still checking for people. There isn’t any.
“You realise I’ve only done this because he has, right?”
“What?” I walk out into the hall, thoroughly bored with the thought of being caught naked. Pascal owns this place, and therefore me in a roundabout way. “Because he has what?”
“Fucked you.” Oh.
“Revenge fuck, was it?”
“Kind of.”
“Clever. We’ll make a Domme out of you yet.”
She laughs and walks beside me, both of us naked and wandering corridors in the hope of finding food. Well, I am. I assume she’s still in hope of finding Alex. That won’t be coming anytime soon. They’ve got talking to do. And fucking presumably. Well, hopefully. And pain. And maybe even discussions about what happens now that Pascal is back in his rightful place, at the top of all this. Yum.
Chapter 20
Alexander
