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His breath shudders out on my bare skin, and I fight down a shiver. It was satisfying to see him follow my command, but this…the heavy press of his head, his inhales and exhales ghosting over my thigh, his long hair soft beneath my fingers as I pet him.
Heat blossoms inside me. Desire. I won’t do anything about it. Not now, maybe not ever. As much as I didn’t want to see him go, I don’t know if I’ll survive letting him close enough to sharemy bed again. I don’t intend to keep him, and if we have sex…I’ll want to.
I look up to find Charon watching us. I don’t know what I expect, maybe jealousy or anger, despite his words last night.
Instead, he’s watching me with so much heat in his blue eyes, I have to fight not to shift in my seat. The desire surges higher, hotter. I lick my lips, and my voice comes out a little ragged when I finally manage to speak. “Charon?”
“I like you like this.” He braces his elbows on the table. “You’re steady on your feet.”
That’s exactly what it feels like. Even now, so many months later, there are plenty of times when I feel like the ground is moving beneath me. Not this morning, not since Orpheus knelt before me.
Not last night either, when I had my hand wrapped around Charon’s cock.
I can’t help it any longer. I press my thighs together, as if that will do anything to alleviate the ache that’s begun in my core. Orpheus goes tense, which is the moment I realize he relaxed completely while I stroked his head.
Charon sees. Of course he sees.
He leans forward, gaze intent. “Does he deserve the reward of your body?” The question has a formal feel to it, which makes me realize the scene isn’t over yet. Maybe it’s only just beginning.
“No.” The answer comes out too harshly, but it’s too soon. I’m not ready.
“You’re all achy and wet, aren’t you, baby? He might not have earned access, but that doesn’t mean you need to go without.” Nothing changes in Charon’s expression. “You want me to takecare of it?” He doesn’t even try to make the question subtle. He’s so tense, I half expect him to leap over the table and grab me.
I want him to.
But…I glance down at Orpheus. Is it wrong that I want to fuck Charon when he’s right here? It must be. How can I go from offering him comfort to wanting to twist the knife as if a switch flipped inside me? I don’t know. I don’t understand it, but I’m feeling my way at this point.
I give his head one last stroke. “You…” I drag in a breath. “You may watch if you’d like. No touching. Don’t move.” I can’t believe I’m saying the words. Surely I’m not going to fuck my current…whatever Charon is to me right now…in front of my ex-boyfriend? Surely that’s breaking some kind of rules.
How many nights did I spend haunting Orpheus’s social media in the weeks following that night when everything changed? He certainly wasted no time being photographed with models and socialites and all manner of beautiful people. Surely he didn’t go home alone most of those nights.
Itormentedmyself with visions of him fucking them, even though I knew it was technically none of my business because we were over. I’m petty enough to want him to feel even a sliver of that now. I might have done that before hurt to myself, but he’s choosing to do it to himself now. A twisted kind of full circle.
A shudder works its way through Orpheus. He turns his face and presses a kiss to my thigh. It’s a light touch, almost seeming accidental, but it shoots a trail of need straight to my pussy. He might have been a selfish lover in any number of ways, but helovedeating me out, and somewhere there’s a series of smallpaintings of my pussy that he’s promised never to share with anyone.
One promise he’s actually kept.
He sits back carefully and presses his hands to his thighs. “I’ll watch.”
Oh gods, this is actually happening.
I sit quietly, my hand still buried in Orpheus’s hair, as I watch Charon clear the table. He doesn’t rush. I always knew he had a bit of a sadistic streak, but watching it play out in real time fucks with my head in the most delicious way possible. Because I know what’s coming. I still ache from receiving it last night.
Just when I think I can stand it no longer, he takes the seat at the head of the table. Charon taps the wood in front of him, a clear, if silent, command. I don’t rush to obey, but I waste no time nudging Orpheus aside and pushing to my feet. I don’t look back to ensure my ex is watching me—I know he is.
I carefully perch on the table in front of Charon and spread my thighs. I didn’t bother with panties this morning, mostly because I don’t have anything clean to wear. It didn’t occur to me that I might need to leave clothes here. Something I’ll have to take into consideration for the future.
But then, I really like wearing Charon’s clothes.
When he doesn’t react, I set my feet on the arms of his chair, which spreads my thighs wider yet, and tug the hem of his shirt up to bare my pussy.
“Impatient,” he murmurs.
He’s teasing me, but I’m so turned on that I’m practically shaking. I bite my bottom lip and glance at Orpheus, who watches uswith a rapt expression on his face. I’ve never seen him look like that before. I thought he was just going through the motions of submission in order to pay his penance, but that’s obviously not the case.
This is doing something for him, the same way it’s doing something for me. I might laugh if I had the space for breath. All that time together, all those shared orgasms, and somehow we never got to the core of need that we exposed in a few short minutes of arguing in Charon’s kitchen.
“You asked if I wanted help with that. If you’re not going to do it, then I suppose I’ll have to do it myself.” I start to reach between my thighs, but Charon catches my wrist.
