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“Indeed.” He licks his lips and then slowly gets to his feet, while I stare at him from my wreckage atop the table. “Keep yourself bare for me, so I might have you at any time.” He contemplates my sprawled legs and then reaches out, running a finger down my slippery cleft again, as if he can’t resist. “Lovely. My other selves are going to be jealous that I had my tongue on you first, you know. They’re going to want their turn.”
They…are? I blink at him, dazed.
Neska regards me for a long moment, then swipes his thumb over his mouth. “Indeed.” He considers my pussy, and then looks up at me again. “And since they will want their turn with you, I need to do it best. And the best way is to practice.”
With that, he moves between my thighs again.
My hand goes back to his hair, and I’m stunned as he puts his mouth on me again. By all the gods in the Aether, is this going to be my new normal?
Neska strokes a finger into my wet channel and lowers his mouth to my clit, and then I forget everything, even how to breathe.
Eleven
Neska’s discoveryof oral sex leads to a strange sort of competition between the three Aspects. All of them are fascinated at suddenly making me come, and I find myself constantly accompanied by one of them, eager to make me climax.
It’s as if they have a new toy, and the toy is me.
Neska makes me come at least four times that one afternoon, refusing to let me get off the table until I’m whimpering with fatigue. My limbs feel like jelly once he’s done with me, and no sooner do I get to my quarters than Ossev is there.
“I want to try,” is all he says, and then I’m flat on my back on my bed, with another Aspect’s head between my thighs.
He wrings a rough, small orgasm from my body and then seems disappointed at my response. We have a conversation about how a mortal can only take so much before they’re exhausted, so he curls up with me and holds me while I sleep.
Ossev is back between my legs when I wake, and this time he makes me come hard. Twice.
After that, Zaroun wants to pleasure me when I visit him instead of the other way around.
It’s like everywhere I turn, I have a Spider god waiting to suck my clit until I scream. It’s exhausting.
I…love it.
It’s strange at first to have the tables turned upon me. I’m used to being the one that does the pleasuring, the one that must see to everyone else’s relief. Rare is the lover that thought to do anything for me, and the fact that I have three of them at once, eager to go down on me at a moment’s notice? That their satisfaction in licking my cunt comes from my satisfaction as much as theirs?
It’s heady. I feel pampered and tired and very, very content with my lot.
For the next few weeks, the three Spidae are utterly focused on me and learning my body. They want to bathe me. They want to brush my hair for me and help me put on (or take off) my clothing. They want to touch every part of me and see my reaction to each touch.
And then come the gifts.
After Neska gifted me the mirror, and Ossev the garden, Zaroun has been asking me pointed questions, and I suspect he’s been trying to think of a gift he can give me as well. There’s a fierce competition between the three of them, which is baffling given that they’re all Aspects of the same person. Yet they seem so different at times that if I hadn’t met Aron of the Cleaver, I would think them triplets instead of Aspects.
Regardless, one cannot bestow upon me a kiss or a present (or an orgasm) without the others demanding equal attention. I know if I eat my midday meal with Zaroun, I will find either Ossev or Neska in the kitchens that evening, with the other waiting in my quarters.
I definitely feel like a favored toy being fought over.
Yet strangely enough, our boundaries remain. The Spidae are focused on pleasuring me, but no one asks me to service them in return. No one demands more than a kiss from me or for me to spread my legs. At first, it feels like a ploy—orgasms for me so I’ll feel obligated to pleasure them in return—but Ossev explains to me that they truly enjoy touching me and getting my responses, and they do not want my touches unless I want to give them.
And I’m not sure if I’m ready to give them yet. So I hold off for a time. I’m happy to kiss and cuddle and let them go down on me, but I’m not ready to reciprocate just yet.
It’s one night, while I’m in my bath with Zaroun, that he surprises me.
“How fares your garden?” he asks, holding me against his chest. My thick curls are wrapped in my silk bonnet and held out of the water, because it’s not yet wash day and I’m too tired to fuss with cleaning and oiling my hair today. Zaroun doesn’t mind, because he’s also wearing something on his head—his blindfold. In this way, we’re both comfortable in my tub, luxuriating in the warm water. I lie against his chest as he plays with my fingers, and we talk about everything and absolutely nothing at all.
“My garden hasn’t started yet,” I confess to him. Between constantly being called away for pleasuring, I haven’t had the time or strength to truly get to work on it. “I’ve cleared some of the beds but I’ve gotten no further just yet.”
“Apple?” he asks. “What about apple?”
I frown down at our joined hands. “You like apples?”
