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Even though we’ve never kept score, I’m secretly thrilled Liam got this first, since most of mine went to Gus. In fairness, since Liam wasn’t a virgin when we met, I haven’t gotten many of his either. But today I’m claiming another one.
While he mercilessly fucks my mouth, I let my hands run up his strong, muscular legs. Reaching his tight buns, I dig my nails in, eliciting a groan from him. As he pulls back to let me breathe, I rasp, “Give me the soap.” Without questioning me, he reaches for the body wash and hands it to me.
I don’t wait for Liam to force himself down my throat again, instead I bob up and down on his cock, licking around the tip, while squirting some of the honey-colored body wash into my hand. As he thrusts into my mouth again, I spread his delectable cheeks and run my hand through the crack.
“W-what are you doing?” he gasps as my finger presses against his puckered opening.
I wrap one hand around the base of his shaft, slowly stroking as I remove him from my mouth so I can answer. “Let me make you feel good,” I say, squeezing his cock while working my finger into his tight hole. “I promise it will feel amazing,” I add when there’s hesitancy in his eyes.
Liam’s jaw tightens as I work my finger in and out of his ass, but it doesn’t take long until his mouth pops open and he moans loudly. “Fuck… Cia… I—” He forces his way back into my mouth, and I move my hand back to cup his ass.
Looking up at him, I’m pleased to see the fire burning in his eyes while he pistons his hips against me. The louder he moans, the faster I fuck his ass, and when he once more tangles his fingers into my hair and controls my movement, I work a second finger into him.
“Holy shit… that feels… I can’t…” His movements become jerky, and he pulls impatiently at my hair as his body shakes. Not letting up, I keep fucking him with my fingers, loving the raw and guttural cries of pleasure he makes.
Every sound he makes strokes the embers inside me until I feel like my entire body is on fire. I move my free hand between my legs, furiously rubbing my clit to the pace he’s fucking my mouth and I’m fucking his ass. Although I wish it was his hand between my legs, I’m too determined to make him come with my fingers in his ass to change position.
Tightening his hold on me, Liam pushes his way all the way to the back of my throat, making me gag on his cock again. “Agápi… I’m going to… I can’t… Oh, fuck.” With a deep groan, he empties himself, his hot cum shooting directly down my throat.
I keep fucking him through his orgasm, and mine, loving the way his entire body is shaking, and his cock keeps pulsing even after he pulls out of my mouth.
Liam gently crouches down so we’re at eye level. “And here I never thought I’d like anything in my ass, but you can definitely do that again,” he grins.
AsIcatchupwith Morgana and Lupa at Chique, a shop that Lupa worships, they both smile conspiratorially at me.
“There you are,” the Roman Heiress exclaims, surprising me when she immediately pulls me in for a hug. My body locks up, and for a moment I don’t return the embrace. It’s long enough for her to notice. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been hugged before.” Lupa laughs and lets go of me.
“It’s quite easy,” Morgana drawls. “You both wrap your arms around the other person’s body and squeeze. Some use it as a method of comfort.” In true Morgana fashion, she sounds condescending and bored, all while giving me a look that’s filled with mirth.
Oh, my gods… all this because I wasn’t prepared for a hug.
I feel like a baby deer. Though, rather than stumbling to find purchase for my feet, I’m learning that I’m unfamiliar with even the most common physical show of care. The realization of my poor social skills in this aspect is jarring. How is it I didn’t know this about myself? I know the obvious answer is that I’ve never had to know, but still. It’s not like I’m expected to do complex math without a calculator, or end famine without money.
It’s a hug… a freaking hug.
“I’m familiar with the notion, Morgana.” Then I add, “But you’re such a mighty warrior that I didn’t want to anger you by touching your girlfriend.”
This makes both of them laugh hysterically, and before long, I join in. It feels good to laugh like this. Like we’re just three women enjoying a day of shopping without talking about all our baggage.
“So, what are we looking for?” I ask when I can finally talk again.
Lupa sounds annoyed when she explains Remus wants her to wear a formal gown, and Morgana doesn’t sound thrilled that Arthur is expecting the same thing.
“I want to dress up in a costume, not formal wear, and have some fun,” Lupa gripes.
“But… they’re the Leaders.” Morgana scrunches her nose, clearly annoyed with the entire thing.
I get it, I really do. For years I’ve had to wear whatever Nikolaos dictated when we were out. Come to think of it, I think this is one of the first Kronos Society gatherings where no one has dictated what I should be wearing.
I’m glad when Morgana rolls her blue eyes good-naturedly at Lupa’s whooping over almost every single dress she finds. The longer I spend with the two girls, the more I realize Lupa is as easy to excite as Morgana is to annoy—and it makes the experience perfect.
While they bicker and throw shade at each other, I observe them as much as possible. It makes me feel like an alien to see the women interact so naturally with each other. They’re making fun of each other, hip bumping, and casually touching each other. Their display is scintillating to watch. It’s completely at odds with what I was taught by my mom and uncle, and it baffles me.
From what I can see, they’re having fun—real fun. They’re letting go, completely abandoning their Hatt and Russo personas, and just living in the moment. I’ve toiled away for years to hone the skills I possess, yet I don’t know how to do something as simple as having fun like they do. However, I don’t believe it to be an insurmountable problem, and I find myself wanting to learn.
“You should try this dress on.” As Morgana’s voice slices through my thoughts, I turn my head and look at the gold fabric in her hand.
It’s so hard not to scrutinize her now. I keep looking for similarities in our appearances, but no matter how hard I look, I can’t find any. Maybe the shape of our eyes, that feels like a stretch, though. On the other hand, it’s easy to see she’s my dad’s daughter. Actually, now that I know, it’s almost laughable that I've never noticed it before.
