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I give her a cool smile as I get down on my knees before her. The view is spectacular. Her full breasts perked up with arousal as the moon backlights her like a Greek statue. Her long black hair flows down her back. And my mouth closing over her clit, my tongue sliding between her pink folds as I feel her unwinding.
It is crazy, yes. Insane. Worthy of an asylum, perhaps. But it works. For as long as fate allows it, it works. Stella needs the release. She’s spent too many years wasting away next to a man who clearly didn’t know how to please her, how to truly make her happy. She gave him two children, two wonderful human beings who only need love and protection. And he couldn’t even provide for them. What a loser. A joke of a man. Not a man, actually.
It's time for me and my brother, for Beau and Levi, for the four of us to show Stella what it’s like to be a real woman in the care of real men. Look at her blossoming, look at her lighting up from the inside as I lick her pussy and suckle on her clit.
“Oh, just like that,” she whispers, tilting her head back.
I devour her wholly, fingering her slowly at first. Her flesh reacts. Her skin reacts. Every inch of Stella speaks for her, and I am compelled to listen to every word, to every plea, to every hint. Right now, she is mine.
And as soon as I feel her come, juices glistening as I lick her relentlessly, I understand this will never just be a simple affair. We’ve gone too far already, and there is no turning back. It will likely end in disaster. At least one of us will get our hearts broken. It will blow up in our faces, eventually.
It’s one thing to share a woman in bed. How in the hell will we be able to share a woman in our lives, too? How can four of us love and share Stella? How can she love and share us, for that matter? I force those thoughts out of my head for now and enjoy what’s right in front of me at the moment.
9
Stella
Coming back to the Elizabeth after a full day and evening of exquisite debauchery feels like waking up from a dream and putting my feet back down on the cold floor of reality. But I’m doing so with a big smile on my face and plenty of hope in my heart. Things are getting better for me. For us.
My children are well looked after in Bella’s care, and I love coming back to them in the late afternoon. Ava is happy, and Lucas has plenty to do around the estate. There really is no better place for them to grow up. It’s a bittersweet thought because we’re only temporary guests here, but I am determined to find a good place for us to stay in the area.
That way, I can drive up with the kids every morning. Bella can keep an eye on them here, and I can go about my work without worrying about them. This job could work in the long run. How would it work between me, Noah, Isaac, Levi, and Beau, though? We’re keeping it fun and casual for the time being, but it feels way more intense than that. I see it in their eyes, and I feel it deep within myself, too.
Where do we go from here? How much longer will we be able to keep it up before one of us catches one too many feelings? I smell a serious heartbreak in this arrangement, yet I cannot stop myself. I don’t really want to stop myself. It’s been so long since I’ve actually felt safe and protected, cherished and genuinely wanted. Looking at these four wonderful and generous men, I realize that I settled in so many ways with Elijah. I’ve always deserved better.
Maybe it’s time for me to actuallywantsomething better for myself.
“Morning, Stella,” Connie says from behind the breakfast room bar. She’s busy wiping the whole thing down with a cotton cloth and a special oil for that ridiculously expensive wood. “How was your day off, darling?”
“It was wonderful,” I tell her as I get busy clearing the tables. “I actually made it down to the Hamptons.”
“Oh, my! That’s some uppity place to find yourself in! How’d you end up there?”
I load the cart with dirty plates, glasses and bowls, making sure to empty any leftovers and food into the appropriate waste baskets attached to the side. Holding back a smile, I focus on the task at hand, wiping the tabletops with disinfectant and a similar essential oil that gives them an elegant, smooth sheen.
“Well, I was invited,” I tell my colleague. She’s a plump, funny woman in her mid-fifties, worn out by life but still energized enough to work this kind of job. I don’t think she has better options lined up, and every time I’m around her, I make a mental note to end up in a better situation when I reach her age.
“Then you couldn’t say no, could you?”
“Hell, no.”
We both laugh. Once the tables are cleared and cleaned and the bar is polished to perfection, I do a quick dusting of the Christmas tree and turn its festive lights on before we head back into the kitchen to unload the cart for the dishwasher. The chefs are out for another couple of hours, but the sous-chefs are already hard at work preparing some of the ingredients for today’s lunch. We’ve had plenty of check-outs, so we’ve got our share of rooms to clean after this, but there will also be new arrivals today. We’re looking at a full house again. I don’t mind it. Keeping busy makes the day go faster.
“Who invited you?” Connie asks.
“Oh, just some friends,” I say, remembering I’m a terrible liar. The less I say, the better. “How about you? How was your weekend? You said you were taking your grandchildren to that winter fair outside Scarborough, didn’t you?”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “It wasn’t as much fun as I hoped it’d be.”
“It wasn’t a good time?”
“Not once my husband discovered the buy-one-get-one-free at the beer tent,” she grumbles. “From that point onward, I was on my own with three toddlers and my two bickering daughters. Their husbands were nowhere to be found until we got back to the car.”
“Smart fellas,” I laugh.
“Yeah, I thought that was a good thing when they first married my daughters.”
With the dishes unloaded and the carts disinfected and ready for the next round, Connie and I head back to the maids’ corner, where the girls from last night’s shift have already prepared the cleaning carts—fresh laundry all dry and ironed, fluffy towels and welcome baskets with tiny bottles of shampoo, small, handcrafted soaps from a local producer, and little sprigs of lavender for the pillows.
