20. Penelope
Chapter 20
Penelope
After… that, everyone has another piece of cake.
Tristan and Xavier don’t say anything about what they just saw, and Xavier goes back to raving about the cake and how he wants to bring me a recipe for a cake he liked when he was a kid and see if I could replicate it.
Pretty much everything goes right back to normal, as if I didn’t come in front of them not fifteen minutes ago. On the one hand, that’s good because I don’t want to rehash it or anything or discuss it with the other two. On the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I’m trying to act normal, finishing my dessert and washing it down with some water, laughing when Xavier says something that makes Tristan and Dominic both roll their eyes at him. But my brain is firmly stuck on what happened. My body is still buzzing from it, and it’s like I can feel Dominic’s hands still on me, caressing my curves and sliding inside me.
Maybe it just feels so big because it was the first time that’s happened to me. Maybe for Dominic, Tristan, and Xavier, it’s not that noteworthy and that’s how they can just go back to business as usual without a thought.
Either way, it’s pretty clear that I’m not going to be able to get it off my mind, and sitting here pretending like everything’s normal is going to drive me nuts. I have a weird energy humming under my skin, and every time I shift in my chair, it’s like I can feel where Dominic’s fingers were.
“I’m pretty tired after everything,” I say when there’s a lull in the conversation. “I think I’m going to head to bed early.”
“You had a big day,” Xavier says, and it’s hard to tell if he’s teasing or being genuine. Either way, he’s not wrong.
Dominic smirks a little, but the three of them bid me a good night, and I escape up the stairs to my room, grateful to close the door between me and everything that happened down in the dining room.
My heart is still racing, and I can still feel everything in my body.
There’s a throb between my legs, and my clit feels so sensitive when it rubs against my panties. My nipples are pebbled and tight, and just the brush of the soft sweatshirt fabric against them sends shivers down my spine.
Even though I just got off, I still feel so turned on and desperate, and I don’t understand why. Before, it was so hard for me to get in the mood. So hard for this feeling to start in the first place, let alone carry over after I just came.
Is this what people feel like when they’re having good sex regularly? Just horny all the time? I should be sated, or at the very least, satisfied. But here I am, still hungry for more.
I try to push those feelings aside because they don’t really have a place here. This was just supposed to be business. Just supposed to be for the sake of their company and so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the ORD. And now… now my chest feels overfull with everything going on.
There are so many emotions warring for attention, making it hard to focus on or process any of them. There’s the attraction I feel for the men, the arousal that won’t die down, and all these other feelings that I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with.
“Okay,” I mutter to myself, clapping my hands together. “Okay, you can’t just stand here feeling like this. You need a task. Do something with your hands.”
The pep talk is a bit silly, but I channel some determination from somewhere and set to reorganizing my room.
Even with the bulk of my stuff here, the room is still too big for me to fill all the way. But that just gives me more space to play with.
I hang all my work clothes in the spacious closet, making sure each piece is hung carefully so they won’t wrinkle. I gather up the clothes that are strewn across the floor from the week and put them in the hamper.
I have the urge to nest for the first time in a while, so I gather the ones from the chair in the corner and pile them up on the side of the bed that’s against the wall, making a sort of cozy barrier. I drape blankets over that, and then add Xavier’s sweatshirt once I change into my pajamas.
It’s nice to have something there that smells like him, and the soft scent spreads through everything, adding to the comfort. There’s so much more space here, so much more room to make things perfect, and there’s a satisfaction in that.
It looks inviting and warm, and it’s… not enough.
The simmering arousal is still there, the fire banked just enough that it’s not driving me crazy, but it’s not like I can ignore it either. Not when every movement just makes the sensitive parts of my body beg for more attention.
I huff in frustration and lie down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
I can hear footsteps on the stairs and the hum of deep voices as the men talk to each other before heading to their separate rooms.
Something about knowing they’re up here with me, just a few feet away down the hall, makes my body ache even more.
Ignoring it didn’t help and neither did trying to distract myself, so I just decide to give in. Maybe it’s okay to think about it. And even if it’s not, my body and mind have clearly made their own choices about it.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It’s not hard to bring up memories of what happened downstairs, and I shiver a little from the phantom feeling of Dominic’s touch.
He was so sure of himself, so confident. The way he was with everything really. That control and certainty was so hot when coupled with the way he touched me. His hands mapped my body like he wanted to memorize it, and thinking about it makes my own hands follow a similar path, sliding down my body in exploration.
I can feel how hot my skin is through my clothes, and everything feels extra sensitive. I touch my chest, first over the shirt I put on to sleep in and then under, cupping each full, heavy breast in turn. I brush my fingers over my nipples and swallow back a gasp at the electric zing of heat that sends right down between my legs.
What would Dominic’s hands feel like here? With nothing between us?
I bite my lip and then pinch one nipple lightly, arching into the feeling. But Dominic would do it harder, probably. For all he was gentle with me earlier, there was nothing timid about it. He didn’t hold back. I pinch my fingers around the peaked nub harder and gasp at the sensation.
It feels good, better than I would have imagined.
Heat starts to pool even more between my legs, my clit throbbing in time with my heartbeat. It’s needy for attention, so I give in, pushing my hand down into my shorts.
I’m so wet I can smell it, and I can’t tell if it’s lingering from Dominic getting me off downstairs or if it’s new with the way I’m touching myself now.
Either way, it’s more than enough to slick the slide of my finger against my clit as I circle and rub the little button experimentally. Each touch has me writhing on the bed, my breaths coming faster, my body crying out for more.
My soaked core clenches around nothing, and I press two fingers inside, still loose from the way Dominic finger fucked me. My fingers aren’t as thick or as long as his, but it still feels good. It still scratches at least part of the itch.
I can imagine what Dominic’s voice would sound like if he could see me now, the rich, deep tone in my ear.
“Does it feel good? Do you want more?”
I nod, even though no one’s in the room with me, working my fingers in deeper. I pause for a second to work my panties and shorts off, giving myself more access. This way I can fuck myself with my fingers and rub my clit at the same time.
The Dominic in my head urges me on, and something about thinking of him like this makes me wonder what the other two would be like.
Earlier, they didn’t participate except to watch, and the heat and weight of their gazes added a lot to the experience. But what if they had joined in?
Tristan, all rough edges, probably even less gentle than Dominic. He wouldn’t talk, I’m willing to bet, but I’d be able to feel how much he wanted me from the way his body hardened against mine. He’d thrust his fingers in so deep and he wouldn’t let up until I was a mewling mess for him, desperate for anything he wanted to give me.
And I’d gladly take whatever he wanted and probably beg for more.
I try to mimic the way I think he’d do it, thrusting my fingers in hard and fast. Even now my cheeks flush from the sloppy, wet sounds my body makes, but there’s no one to hear it. What would the three of them think if they could?
My mind turns to Xavier and how different he’d be. He’s confident in a different way than Dominic, and much more talkative than Tristan. There would be a lot of teasing, I bet. Light touches that trail off so I have to arch into them, his lips hovering just above my own.
He’d ask me if I want more, if I’m sure I want him to touch me there, and I’d beg him to just do it.
And he would. He’d touch my clit with firm, sure strokes, and I copy them, bucking against my hand.
My breath hitches, and I can feel the heat building into a towering inferno inside me. All three of them bring something different to the table, but in this fantasy it’s all so hot. Hot enough to make me shiver and shake, to have me right there, wanting to fall apart.
“Please,” I whisper to no one in particular, toes curling into the blankets on the bed. “Oh my god—please.”
Xavier would say, ‘please what?’ and I’d have to tell him how close I am and how much I want to fall apart.
The thought of it spirals a little, and then there’s a knock on my bedroom door.
Without thinking, I yelp Xavier’s name in surprise, the lines between what’s real and what’s going on in my head getting blurry enough that I slip up.
The door opens, and I suck in a surprised gasp. Clearly Xavier thought me saying his name meant for him to come in.
He stands there, taking in the sight of me, and god. I can only imagine what he sees.
My shorts and underwear are strewn on the bed nearby and my legs are spread, my hands both busy between them. My shirt is rucked up enough to show off the soft curve of my stomach, and Xavier’s eyes rake over it all, taking in everything.
There’s so much heat in them that it almost burns to look at, and I have to swallow hard from the intensity. His eyes flick up to mine and they catch and hold.
I can’t look away, and neither can he, it seems.
There’s tension in the air, something hot and shivery snapping between us. This isn’t the sort of moment that Xavier can walk away from and pretend like nothing happened, I know that for a fact.
From the way he’s looking at me, I don’t think he wants to.
His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, and his voice comes out husky when he finally speaks.
“Do you want me to go?”
It’s surprisingly serious for him, not a hint of teasing there at all. If I told him to leave, I know he would. He’d walk out without complaint, and it wouldn’t be an issue.
I open my mouth to say something, but my voice fails because I don’t know what I want to say.
I don’t say I want him to go, at least.
Xavier takes that for the invitation it is and steps fully into the room, closing the door. He leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“So,” he says, and finally a hint of his usual smirk crosses his face. “Dom got you all worked up, huh? We thought you’d be up here being all embarrassed about what happened, but you were really just needy for more.”
A whine slips out of my mouth, and the noise is a little embarrassed—but mostly it just sounds needy, like Xavier said.
He licks his lips, his eyes searing into me. “Do you need more?”
I swallow and then nod. I could probably get myself there on my own, but wasn’t I just thinking about Xavier and how he would be if he was here and involved in this? Now that he is, I can’t pass it up.
He grins at me, his eyes sparkling. “Did you like what Dom did to you downstairs?” he asks.
I nod again.
“Yeah, I could kind of tell.” It’s teasing, but it’s clear he liked it. “He went straight for the prize, but there are other things you could do to get yourself off.”
“Like… like what?” I ask, finally managing to speak.
“Have you ever played with your nipples before?”
“A little. Just now,” I admit.
Xavier’s grin turns wicked. “Show me.”
Having an audience makes it both easier and harder at the same time. Easier because following instructions is easy. Xavier says to show him so I do, dragging one hand up and using it to push my shirt farther up my chest until my breasts are spilling out. But it’s harder because Xavier is watching so closely when I pluck at my sensitive nipples, whining as each touch sends a spike of pleasure through me. Underneath everything else, there’s the self-consciousness that he’s going to think I’m doing it wrong or that I’m not as attractive as someone else might be.
But there’s none of that in his eyes as he watches me.
“Do you like it when it’s just a little rough?” he asks.
“I think so,” I pant back. “It feels good.”
“I can tell. And that’s good. That’s the goal. For you to feel so fucking good that you can’t help but to come apart.”
I moan softly, just from those words, and Xavier smiles. “I know your hands are smaller than Dominic’s but I bet you could find your g-spot.”
I know what that means, but my eyes go a little wide at the thought of it. “How?” I manage to get out.
“Push your fingers back into your pretty little pussy,” he says, and I do as I’m told, working two fingers back into myself. My body welcomes them immediately, spasming and going tight around the digits like a vise.
Xavier coaches me through it, telling me how to curl my fingers just right, how to flutter them so vibrations of intense feeling course through me, and then how to pull back so I don’t fall apart all at once.
I end up panting on the bed, writhing and twisting against the sheets. It smells like sex and need, and it’s hard to say which one of us it’s coming from at this point.
“Like that,” Xavier praises me. “Now stop teasing. I want you to go harder. Play with your nipples and really let yourself feel all of it, shortcake. Lose yourself in it until you can’t take anymore.”
I’m already riding that line pretty intently, so it doesn’t really take much for me to go flying over the edge. A hard pinch to my nipple and my fingers pressing against that spot inside me, and I’m crying out, arching hard on the bed as I come so hard my vision blurs.
Xavier watches all of it, lips parted as he keeps staring while I ride out the aftershocks and then finally manage to come down a little.
My chest is still heaving as I struggle to breathe normally when Xavier smirks again. “You know, you can probably come more than once in a row.”
My eyes go wide with surprise. “Really?”
When he smiles, there’s something hungry in it. Like he wants me to come again and again and have every single one of my orgasms be for him.
“Touch your clit,” he says. “How do you feel?”
I brush my fingers against it and gasp softly. “Sensitive,” I reply. And then, “But… good? It’s like it’s too much but I want more at the same time.”
“Lean into that,” he says. “Start light and easy, just playing with the line between too much and just right.”
I rub my clit in small circles, not even bothering to hold back the noises that spill out of me. It’s just like Xavier said, that edge between too much and just right, and teasing to one side or the other of it makes my head spin with sensation. Sometimes it’s almost raw, like I want to snatch my hand away, but then I back off a little, until the intensity tempers into something more manageable.
“Very good, shortcake,” Xavier praises. “You should see what you look like right now. All flushed and pliable. I thought seeing you come in Dominic’s lap earlier was the hottest thing, but this is on another level.”
“Please,” I gasp out, the word ending on a whimper. “I need—” I’m cut off by another moan tearing from my mouth.