18. 17
“No,” I say resolutely, pushing the plate away from me. “This is unacceptable.”
“Told you,” Remy says, looking Chester in the eye. I got home late, and these men told me they would fix dinner, which was fine with me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no snob and I’m okay with take-out. I’ll even eat a sandwich for dinner, because I understand that there isn’t always time to fix a full meal.
But this?
This isn’t food. This is some microwaved shitfest put into a bowl. All I can taste is salt and sugar. I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to be, but it’s beige, and I’m pretty sure that if I were actually to eat this and had to vomit tonight, it would look exactly the same.
“Just eat it,” Chester says. “It’ll feed you. There are people who eat this and they are fine.”
“You know how you refuse to work on laptops that aren’t your own because they don’t have a certain thingie? Or they simply have the wrong color? Well, this is the same. I could eat this, it would keep me alive, but I simply refuse to. You’ve got your quirks. I’ve got mine. I’m pretty particular about what I put in my mouth.”
“Now that simply isn’t true,” Chester says, smiling so widely it has to hurt.
“Oh no, I know where you put your mouth,” I reply, going along with his innuendo. “I’m very specific about what I put in mine.”
Remy gets up from the table, gathers my plate, and brings it to the kitchen. He shakes his head and silently laughs the whole way. I catch Chester staring at his ass while he walks out, and I can’t blame him.
“We don’t have anything else to eat besides a few bags of chips.”
“Which will still be a more nutritional meal than that goop you just tried to make me eat.”
“Don’t come crying when you get hungry later tonight.”
“I’m sure I can find something in the house to stuff my mouth with,” I tease.
The look on Chester’s face goes from hungry to famished. He slowly licks his lips, his eyes flitting from the now-empty doorway to me and back again.
“Why don’t you go to your room, like the naughty girl you are for not eating your dinner, and let me shut you up by stuffing your mouth,” he says, his voice dark and low, and doing stuff to my belly that it shouldn’t be doing. I should be appalled by this kind of talk, even if I’m not.
“That’s how it’s going to be tonight?” I say, slowly getting up.
He swats my ass, not even playfully, but hard. Guess that answers my question. Good girls get gourmet meals, naughty girls get spanked and a mouth full of cock? To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m aiming for.
A fucking giggle leaves my mouth when I race past him and climb the stairs two steps at a time, hearing the thundering footsteps of Chester following closely behind me. The minute I reach my bed, his arm wraps around my belly, and he pulls me against him before he spins me and pushes me down. I bounce off of the bed, gasping out of surprise. He’s already taking his shirt off by the time I’m able to focus on what’s going on again.
The fall of light from the hallway shifts, and I catch sight of Remy in the doorframe.
Guess it’s going to be one of those nights.
“Abs has been bad,” Chester says. “She didn’t want to eat the food we made for her and now we’re going to stuff her with a different kind of sustenance.”
“Oh, it’s on,” Remy says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He reaches around his head and one-handedly pulls his shirt over his head. Now I’ve got two half naked men staring me down as if I’m their next meal.
“Get undressed,” Chester orders me, and it’s at the tip of my tongue to talk back and tell him to go to hell. I don’t take orders from anyone, except for when it comes to the bedroom, because apparently, I do in that situation.
But two or three can play that game.
I slowly bring my hands to my neck, softly laying my hands on the bare skin there. My fingers slide over my collarbone, beneath the hem of my silk shirt. I seek out my now hard nipples through the fabric of my shirt, toying with the already hard buds, keeping a close eye on my lovers. They don’t seem bossy now and look under my spell already.
My hands roam down over my belly, reaching the hem of my shirt. Grabbing it, I lift it, yanking it up and exposing my forest green bra. I make a little show of cupping my breasts before I take the shirt off over my head, throwing it to the other side of the room.
Four eyes stay glued to me.
Whenever someone says that women are the weaker sex because they’re objectified, they fail to remember that sex holds tremendous power as well. Don’t ever underestimate the power of seduction. Deep down, everyone wants to be loved. We need love as much as air to survive, and we neglect the power that comes with it.
A woman – or a man for all that matters – who owns the power of sexuality and knows how to use it is a dangerous, dangerous thing.
By the time I let my hands slide down again to take hold of the button of my pants, the door opens.
“Do you know where my black tank top is?” Beckett says and storms into the room without knocking. Ever since he canceled his motel reservation and moved his stuff into this house, his shit has been all over the place. I really need to figure out a more permanent place for his stuff, but first, we need to figure out how exactly he will stay here after we catch Wayne.
“Kind of an inconvenient time, Becky. We’re trying to lose clothes, not find more of them,” Chester says. He shimmies out of his own pants, never taking his eyes off of me as he proceeds to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“What’s going on?” the agent asks, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. Yes, we’ve all seen each other naked, we’ve all been together, but sometimes he still doesn’t know how to act.
“We’re stuffing Abby, and she didn’t want to eat the food we prepared for her.”
“That wasn’t food,” I argue, the fire returning to me.
Beckett’s eyes fall on me, an evil gleam coming to his eyes.“Spin,” he tells me.
“What?” I ask, not sure what he means. I don’t want to give in to his orders immediately. Getting bossed by two men is enough already. Beng is treated like a doll by three, which is just a little too much.
“Lie down on your back, head this way towards the door. Let your head fall backwards over the edge of the bed. Remy can stand in front of you and fuck your mouth.”
“We’re stuffing,” Chester says. “Not fucking.”
“Well excuse me. Lie down like I told you so Remy can stuff your mouth.”
I chuckle. Part of me wants to object, but the slutty part of me has never tried that position and is dying to know what it’s like. So I quickly undress myself while watchful eyes follow my every move until I spin and get in position exactly as Beckett told me to.
“Good girl,” Chester says, infuriating me. He doesn’t say it to be sexy. He says it to get a rise out of me.
Before I can say anything, Remy shoves down his pants, letting his cock spring free and he guides himself to my mouth. It’s a little bizarre, being upside down like this, but I guess the angle will work itself out. He taps my mouth, and I dutifully open up, already tasting his precum before I’ve even done anything.
“Just hold on,” Beckett tells me. “Don’t try to do anything. He’ll be able to get so deep that you’ll hurt yourself if you try to help. Just let him stuff your mouth.”
It’s not like I can say anything in response. Can I?
Remy tentatively thrusts forward, reaching the back of my throat at once. Being upside down helps me relax my throat more because all I have to do is let my mouth fall open.
Beckett finally moves from the doorway to the bed, getting naked in the process. I try to watch him, but my gag reflex makes my eyes water. I’ve got absolutely no control whatsoever, and I’m torn between liking it and wanting to take control back.
Fingers slide between my folds, but I’m unable to see whose they are. The very smooth way they slide through indicates I’m wet as fucking hell, and it doesn’t matter who it is. I’m here for it.
I hum an encouraging moan, and it seems to please Remy. The slew of curse words coming out of Remy’s mouth makes me believe he likes it. There’s no room for worry though. I’m truly just lying there, getting a dick so far in the back of my throat I might as well be a fleshlight. The idea that I’m just here as a vessel of pleasure is oddly arousing.
I can’t see what the others are doing, but two calloused hands push my knees up and spread my legs in the process. I register the sound of the cap of the lube bottle opening up behind the wet suctioning sound that seems to fill the whole room. The hands that spread my legs stroke the insides, slowly massaging and going up and down.
The light shifts when someone takes place behind Remy, and barely able to glance up, I see long blond hair. Remy’s grunts are turned up a notch, telling me that whatever Chester is doing to him, he likes it.
All this means that the person attached to the hands that are stroking my legs and making their way up to my pussy must be Beckett. I see something going through the air, coming from Chester and going to Beckett. Next thing I know, cold lube is drizzled all over my pussy and my ass.
Fuck.
We’re really going all out today.
The funny thing about always being the one in control is that the moment you give yourself over and are no longer in control, you submit. It’s right then, being spread out on a bed hanging upside down, getting cock so deep in my throat that it feels like I’m choking every now and then, that I truly stop worrying. These men, my men, are running the show right now. And they’re doing it together. I don’t have to worry if they like it, or if they think it’s weird, or if there’s envy or jealousy. I just surrender, and I’m completely out of control.
Beckett glides one slick finger all the way through my crack, finally settling when he lands a slicked finger on my puckered hole. His other hand seeks out my clit, which is equally slick, but that’s mostly my own arousal being spread.
We’re all communicating in grunts, huffs, and moans, but we’re all on the same wavelength and understand each other perfectly.
I tense when Beckett pushes a finger in, going just a little too fast. He can feel it though, whispers he’s sorry, and rubs the bundle of nerves between my legs some more to make me feel better. I’m a little surprised at how quickly I’m relaxed again.
The tensing did cause me to bite down a little and made my teeth scrape over Remy’s hard length. It seemed to be just the right amount of pain to bring him pleasure. His rock hard silky length seems to thicken, and his breathing speeds up. His movements become frantic and I can see the way the muscles in his abdomen tighten when I look up from beneath my eyelashes.
He lays a hand on my head, making us lock eyes and he’s wordlessly telling me he’s going to come and giving me an out. But I’ve always been the kind of woman who sees through what she started, and I’m going to take all he has to give me in this position as well.
When he groans and I feel his dick pulsing in my mouth, I know he’s coming. He’s buried so deep within my throat that I don’t even taste his release, skipping my tongue altogether.
My brain wonders what gravity will do if I stay in this position without actually swallowing. The curiosity doesn’t win out, and I swallow once. When he starts to take his dick out of me, I clean him up best I can. I’m nothing if not thorough.
“Fuck,” he says, out of breath and looking completely spent.
He keeps groaning even now that he’s no longer halfway to my stomach, giving away that Chester is doing something to him and is not holding back now that he’s orgasmed.
Just when curiosity is starting to get the better of me and I try to lift my head and see what’s going on, Beckett pushes his finger in deeper, coaxing a moan from my lips and causing my eyes to fall closed again.
“Best to reposition,” Chester grunts. “I think the blood is mainly flowing to her head, and she might need it elsewhere.”
I no longer fucking care. Position me however the fuck you want. I’m no longer the one calling the shots. I’m just here to obey and enjoy. Remy carefully lifts my head using both of his hands, while Chester lifts my shoulders and spins me on the bed. I end up lying in the middle of it, Beckett’s finger never leaving my body.
“On your side,” Chester says, and an abundance of hands help me get on my side. Beckett lies behind me and brings his mouth right next to my ear. He kisses the soft spot beneath it, making me go wild, only to make me even crazier by the timber of his deep, warm voice when he speaks.
“Someone seems to be a little out of it.”
I just hum and bite my bottom lip so hard that I taste the coppery taste of blood seconds later.
“Give her more,” Chester demands, and I don’t know who he’s bossing around, but it’s not like I really care to be honest.
While Remy lies down in front of me, stroking his warm hands over my sides, to my shoulders and back down over my collarbones, breasts and eventually my navel until he reaches my clit, Beckett softly applies more pressure at my back entrance, until he has two fingers inside of me.
My eyes flutter open for a second, and in a moment that seems to be powered by static in the air, I lock eyes with Remy, whose look is equally dark and aroused. His body moves in a steady rhythm, and I realize that Chester is doing to him what Beckett is doing to me. It creates a connection between us – a frailty of two people being equally vulnerable and sharing their trust in the people they’re with.
“Now what?” Beckett whispers, and I think he’s talking to me for a second, but it’s Chester who answers.
“Now you very slowly add a third finger, or you scissor your fingers first. Just make sure you don’t feel any tension before you start doing so. Her body should be relaxed. The muscles back there need to open up. But it’s all in the mind. She”ll never open up to you if she’s not in the right frame of mind.”
Beckett’s fingers stop moving, and I whimper, dreading the loss of the sensation he was giving me.
“I think that means she’s in the right frame of mind,” Remy says, his face in a half smirk that makes him look infuriatingly gorgeous. My hands are on his broad shoulders, holding on for dear life. I’d love to be contributing to what’s going on, but I’m just not. I’m just here for the ride.
In return, he pinches one of my nipples and dips two fingers of his other hand inside me before he starts rubbing my engorged clit. Everything he does feels divine; all my senses are heightened and my brain is seeking out the pleasure I am sure he can provide me with.
Beckett adds a third finger, and my breath stops. It’s foreign, but I know that feeling will pass and make way for pleasure.
In a moment of clarity, I see Chester quietly observing us all, making us do his bidding like a puppet master. He’s orchestrating this whole ordeal, and I suddenly wonder whether he’s put a lot of thought into this. I’m equally curious and scared as to what his mind settled on.
“Now replace your fingers with your cock,” he offers Beckett. Remy and Chester stop moving, and I wonder if they all had a conversation without me where they discussed whether Beckett has any experience with this sort of thing or not. The idea that he’s going to be fucking my ass is both scary and thrilling, and when I feel the broad head of his engorged cock against my asshole, I hold my breath.
But nothing gets by Chester.
“Keep breathing,” he says, his baby blues kind but observant.
It’s only after he’s pushed himself in the first inch that I remember how this felt the last time that I regain some confidence in my ability to do this. Remy starts stroking me again. The hormones released by the pleasure he gives me easing me into surrendering to Beckett’s intrusion.
Chester reaches over to Beckett and pushes him on his back, making sure I move along with him. The agent now lies beneath me, sticking his cock in my ass at an angle that’s deeper than I thought was possible. Beckett’s strong hands open my thighs, exposing me for all, even if Remy’s fingers are still working their magic on me.
“Get in there,” Chester commands Remy, his mouth practically pressed against Remy’s ear. There’s a sheen of sweat over Remy’s body, little pearls beading on his forehead. Whatever it is that Chester’s doing behind him, it’s making my Mister Ashburn extremely overheated.
He takes his fingers off of my clit, immediately pulling my attention back to the way Beckett is stretching my ass. It’s no longer uncomfortable, but it’s still something stuck inside of me that shouldn’t necessarily be there.
Remy positions himself somewhere between Beckett’s legs and then presses the tip of his dick against my opening. His emerald green eyes find mine, and amidst this orgy we have a private moment. Ever so slowly, he pushes in.
“Holy fucking crap,” Beckett mumbles.
Remy just grunts.
And me? I float somewhere in between, going berserk on an overload of stimuli. I feel deliciously full, and either Beckett or Remy touching some spot inside of me makes me feel amazing. My whole body shivers and is covered in goosebumps, while I’m more overheated than cold. It’s a little much.
“You good?” Chester whispers to Remy, who nods so fast it’s almost comical.
The long moan that comes from Remy and the weight on top of me doubling are the only clues I’m getting that Chester is now on top of Remy, fucking him as well.
For the tiniest of moments, I’m envious that I don’t get to watch, recognizing the irony, since I’m an active participant this time.
Every now and then I kiss some part of Remy’s body, as he’s the only one I can reach right now. Our fucking turns into a cocoon of pleasure, where nobody talks and time seems to stand still. The only sounds we make are moans and groans, and it’s like they’re collective instead of coming from one of us.
Somewhere in the distance, I can feel my body beginning to build towards an orgasm. It starts at the base of my spine, and I squeeze the muscles of my belly tight. Who knew that doing my kegels regularly would work out so splendidly? With nobody touching my clit, it’s a little harder to get where I want to be though. It’s not impossible, I know, but it’s easier when I’m stimulated there as well.
I open my eyes in a moment of clarity, only to find Chester staring at me. His eyes are dark and cloudy, and he’s so lost in the moment that I almost don’t recognize him. But even in this state, he’s still my Chester. And he still sees me, knowing exactly what I need.
“Somebody choke her,” he growls.
I expect Remy to go for it, but to my surprise it’s Beckett who lets go of my leg and wraps his strong hand around my neck. He squeezes hard, shutting me off from getting any air. If he wanted to hurt me, this would be all it would take.
But the lack of oxygen makes me quench the muscles in the lower half of my body, forcing blood to flow there, and I reach one of the most intense climaxes I’ve ever had without anyone so much as touching me on the apex of my thighs.
Riding out wave after wave, Beckett keeps choking me, and just when I think this is it and I’m going to faint because it’s simply physically impossible to experience any more pleasure, another wave hits me, and he loosens up enough for me to suck in a big gulp of air.
It’s the best breath I’ve ever taken.
“Fuck,” Remy grunts, and I feel his dick twitch inside of me when he comes as well. I study his face as he gives into all the sensations, and I can’t help but admire his beauty. I guess having Chester poking his prostate while I’m milking him, combined with the added movement from Beckett fucking me in the ass was too much for him. Nobody can blame him really.
Once he comes down from his orgasm, he stops fucking me, even if it still feels like he’s moving inside of me. The movement comes from Chester, who is sweating profusely, his face in deep concentration.
“Jesus, you’re still milking me,” he grunts, and Remy looks fucking smug. I experience something a little like penis envy because right then, I’m very curious as to what it would be like to have a prostate. I don’t get a lot of time to think about it, because just when Chester’s breathing indicates that he’s about to come, Beckett starts moving erratically, and he bites down on my shoulder to stifle a cry while he climaxes.
And Chester just follows his lead.
Goddammit, we can really work well as a team when we put our minds to it.
I’m out of breath and my whole body aches in the most delicious way ever. Somehow, we unfold and untangle, lying lazily on the bed, afterglow all around.
“Are you stuffed now?” Chester asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “But I’m still hungry and I’m still not eating that goop.”
Beckett kisses me on the place on my shoulder. He has bitten me. “I’ll make you something ungoopy.”
Hitting Chester on his shoulder, I make him watch me. “See, that would have been the proper response.”
“This was better,” Remy says with his eyes closed, halfway adrift to sleep.
So it turns out Beckett can cook. He’s been holding out on me, is what I think when I’m inhaling a plate of Jambalaya. When I asked him how he learned to cook this particular dish, he tells me about an unsub they followed in Louisiana. He kept on evading them, much like Wayne is doing now, and he created a bond with the woman who ran the inn he stayed at. She was always up and running, and when he came home at ungodly hours, she always had a nice plate of home-cooked food ready for him. She taught him some tricks, including making jambalaya. He even tells me that if we would’ve stocked okra he could’ve made gumbo as well. He’d just needed a couple of extra hours to pull that off.
Chester keeps referring to the food as goop, but I don’t fail to notice that he’s the first one to clear his plate. He excuses himself and leaves the room, going back into his office to work on some of his side projects. I let him. We’ve all got our own coping mechanisms.
Remy soon follows, tucking in for an early night.
As opposed to what sex does to men, I’m wide awake after having sex. The same protein, prolactin, that makes men sleepy after sex, makes women feel energized. It’s why lactating women are able to wake up several times at night to feed their babies without feeling tired as well. It really isn’t fair, but nobody said it would be.
Which is why I’m in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I’m washing, Beckett is drying. We’ve got a perfectly fine dishwasher, but there’s something normal and domestic about doing the dishes together. If I would’ve done this with either Remy or Chester, they would have put on some music first. But Beckett and I excel in silence.
He’s drying off the last plates while I put all the already dried stuff back in their place, and I’m struck by how utterly normal this all feels like, while I know it’s anything but ordinary.
“Don’t you think this is weird?”
“Weird?” he asks.
“Yeah, the way this relationship works. It feels so normal, but it isn’t really, you know?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After he’s dried the last plate, his emerald eyes fall on me, and he sees right through me.
“What’s on your mind?”
Taking a deep breath, I gather all my courage. “You know I never want any kids, right?”
He turns, hangs away the dish towel and comes back to me. “Yes.”
“Like, never. This isn’t just some phase and hormones aren’t going to change it. It’s not like I wouldn’t love kids or I won’t make a great mom. I’m just never going to have them because it doesn’t mix with the life I live.”
He leans against the edge of the counter with his ass, both arms and legs crossed. “I don’t know. I like children, but I’ve never necessarily seen a future with children of my own. The moment Winny and Caroline started to try to get pregnant, they couldn’t shut up about it. It was like it was everything there was to life. I’ve never felt that. Always figured it would come.”
I step over his outstretched legs, one on each side, and wrap my arms around his legs.
“And what if that eventually will happen to you and I still won’t want any children?”
He takes a moment to think about it. Thank god he does that. It implies he’s taking this seriously.
“I think having children should always be a decision between two people, a shared longing. That’ll never be the case with us because you never want to. So right now, I feel like I’ll be fine.”
“What would your parents have to say about that?” I question, still not fully convinced. Most parents want grandchildren at some point.
“Well, they can go beg my little shit holes of brothers for kids. They live near each other. It only makes sense.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Really. Stop worrying. I’ve got everything I need right here.”
It was just a matter of believing him. He could prove what he was saying to me than to give him time. And I’d just have to have faith that he was telling the truth. But knowing Beckett like I have in the last few months, I figured that was something I could count on.
“Now,” he says, pinching my ass, “let’s get to bed, I need my beauty sleep.”
I chuckle but follow him anyway.