31. Penelope
Chapter 31
Penelope
My heat goes on for a few more days, but I can’t really keep track well. I’m just caught up in the haze of sex and pleasure and screaming myself hoarse as the three of them take care of me the way they do best.
One morning, I wake up to Tristan buried in my ass and Dom’s cock in my pussy. It’s the way we fell asleep, with me sandwiched between them, and I smile, loving the feeling of it.
There’s just something about the way being filled by them makes me feel, even when we’re asleep. Like the connection between us isn’t lost even then.
Just thinking about the way they fucked me last night and being so full of them still turns me on. The mingled scents of the four of us and sex just make it even worse. I squirm softly between them, my pussy going tighter around Dominic’s cock.
I don’t even have to move much, not with their morning-hard cocks buried inside me. I rock back and forth between them until the heat rises and I’m coming with a soft gasp.
That wakes them up, and there’s a low chuckle from Dominic as he pulls me closer to his chest.
“Did you just come on our cocks while we were still asleep?” he asks.
I bite my lip and nod. “Can you blame me?”
“I only blame you for not waking us up sooner,” he quips. “But luckily, you’re trapped here between us, so we can fix you coming without us.”
Tristan growls an agreement, and the two of them start to move, fucking me all over again.
I gasp at the feeling, the way they move inside me, slow, sleepy sex ramping up into something harder and faster.
Xavier wakes up a little bit into it and he smiles, reaching out to touch me. “Best way to wake up is to the sound of your noises when you’re coming undone,” he murmurs with a yawn.
He watches as Dominic and Tristan take me apart, letting his hands wander over my chest. He tweaks and pinches my nipples, adding to the sensations, and it’s not long before I’m coming all over again.
Dominic and Tristan keep fucking into me until they come as well, knotting me and filling me up even more. We’re locked together like that, and I laze between them for a bit, soaking up the warmth of it.
I realize after a few more moments that my head is clearer now than it has been in days. I don’t have that burning need for them to fuck me again, and I actually feel fairly sated just from two orgasms.
My heat must be coming to an end.
I squirm between the two guys and they pull out once their knots go down, leaving me messy as always.
“I think it’s done,” I tell them, stretching a little. “I feel more like a person today.”
“That’s good,” Xavier says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
Dominic leans over and inhales deeply and then nods. “You’re right. Your scent has changed again. Your heat’s finished.”
Now that the press of arousal and the desperate need to get fucked isn’t riding me anymore, I’m aware of how filthy I am. Covered in dried and drying fluids, and my hair is a mess.
“I need a shower,” I say with a grimace. “Badly.”
Xavier laughs. “You weren’t complaining about the mess last night.”
“I’m not complaining now, not really. I just need to get clean. We all do.”
Dominic nods. “Yeah, we’re all a little bit rank.”
My stomach growls, reminding me that there are other hungers that need to be seen to.
“We’ll get you something to eat after we’ve all cleaned up,” Tristan promises.
“Thank you,” I say. I mean for more than just the promise of food. I can’t imagine how rough things would have been if I hadn’t had the three of them to help get me through my heat.
Xavier pulls me down into a kiss, and even though I’m not in heat anymore, it still lingers a little. His lips curl into a smile against mine, and I can’t help smiling back.
Dominic kisses me as well, a bit rougher, with more teeth involved. It doesn’t make fire race through my body like it would have just hours ago, but it does feel good, and it makes my heart race a little.
Tristan slides out of the bed while Dom is kissing me, and starts gathering the sheets and blankets that are also in desperate need of a wash.
He doesn’t kiss me, doesn’t offer any affection, and I sigh internally, a pang of loss echoing in my chest. His walls are going back up again, right in front of my eyes. He’s pulling away, putting that distance back between us, and I don’t know if there’s anything I can do about it.
He was there when I needed him, more than I expected him to be, and I was so sure that he enjoyed himself as much as the other two did.
But clearly that wasn’t enough.
I try to shake it off, getting out of bed on legs that shake and making my way to the bathroom. I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it and sigh gratefully as it beats down on my shoulders.
I can feel all those little aches that my body was ignoring in favor of getting fucked while I was in heat. My muscles are sore, and there’s a general tiredness in my bones, but I feel pretty good over all.
Even better once I wash my hair and my body, letting the sweat and cum and everything else swirl away down the drain.
I had no idea what to expect from my heat, but honestly, it was incredible. It feels a little like a blur now, a hazy memory of being fucked and passed around and kissed. I’m so lucky the three of them were the for this. None of the toys would have helped me, I definitely know that now.
Once I’m clean, I take my time drying off and getting dressed, and I crack a window in my bedroom to let some fresh air in. The scent of sex is still thick in the air, and it’ll be good to make it clean again.
I go downstairs, and the smell of food wafting from the kitchen makes my stomach growl even louder.
Xavier is standing at the stove, flipping pancakes on the griddle with expert precision. He wields his spatula like a fine tool, turning out stacks of golden pancakes with blueberries, and it makes my mouth water.
He presents the first stack to me, glistening with butter, and points to the syrup on the table.
“Nothing like a big breakfast after something like that, right?” he says. “You need to replace all those calories you fucked out.”
I laugh, pouring syrup over the stack and inhaling the delicious scent. “This looks amazing, Xavier,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He smiles at me and goes about filling plates for himself, Dom, and Tristan too.
We all sit around the table, stuffing our faces with pancakes.
For the first few minutes, it’s quiet except for the sound of knives on plates and the four of us chewing. Then Dominic looks to me, sweeping his eyes over me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I feel good. A little sore, and I can definitely tell that I spent the last four or five days just fucking, but all things considered, I feel good.”
“Good,” he says, giving me a little smile. “I’m glad we didn’t break you.”
I laugh, shoving another bite of pancake into my mouth and chewing. “You didn’t, trust me. It’s wild that before this past week, I had never come at all. Now I can’t even count how many times I came.”
Xavier smirks, leaning one elbow on the table. “You can have as many orgasms as you want from now on, shortcake. All you have to do is ask.”
“He’s right,” Dom agrees. “Can’t have you in an orgasm deficit.”
“Is that I promise?” I ask them, grinning at the prospect.
“It definitely is,” Xavier replies. “Whenever and wherever you want.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t act like it’s some kind of charity,” Dominic says. “It’s not like we don’t get anything out of it.”
It feels easy to flirt with them now, and I guess there’s a lot that can change after spending a few days in a room getting my brains fucked out by them.
But of course, Tristan doesn’t join in and he doesn’t say anything about orgasms or involving himself in Xavier and Dominic’s promise. He’s focused on his breakfast, eating steadily, even though I can tell he’s listening.
I try to ignore the way it makes me feel. For that one shining period of time, Tristan’s focus was all on me. He wanted me, and he didn’t make a secret of that. Now it feels like being cut off completely, and it makes me feel cold. It hurts worse after we got closer during my heat. He made me feel taken care of and there was an intimacy there.
I know I can’t expect him to continue on like that. He took care of me because I needed him, and I guess he feels like I don’t anymore. It wouldn’t be right for me to ask for anything else of him.
He never promised me his heart or anything, and I definitely can’t ask for it.
By unspoken agreement, we all settle on having a relaxing day. Dominic and Tristan help clean up the kitchen after breakfast, and I get the urge to bake something.
I take over the kitchen while the three of them sit at the table, and I don’t feel self-conscious about having them watch me work.
I measure and weigh out flour and sugar, and start zesting and juicing lemons.
“What’s that going to be?” Xavier asks, craning his neck to try to get a better look at what I’m doing.
“Lemon bars,” I tell him. “They were always a big hit at the bakery, and it’s been a long time since I’ve made them.”
“If they’re anything like that cake you made before, I’m going to need a whole tray of them to myself.”
“Glutton,” Dominic mutters under his breath.
“Yeah, because you definitely didn’t have a slice for breakfast the next day, Dom,” Xavier fires back.
Dominic doesn’t refute the accusation. Instead, he changes the subject. “Tell us more about your bakery,” he says.
I glance over at him. “It was… I don’t know. I thought it was going to be something big. You saw the building, it was perfect. Lots of windows and natural light, and I hung these gauzy gold curtains over them. I did lemon bars and different kinds of cookies and muffins fresh every day, and they were in the display case by the counter.”
“What else did you sell?” Xavier asks.
“All kinds of stuff. Scones, biscuits, the real southern kind, sometimes with cheese and chives, or garlic and onion. Sometimes with blueberry, and people really liked those. I did cakes too, and I rotated flavors twice a week. I wanted to get into doing special orders for birthdays and stuff, but I never got the chance to get it off the ground.”
I keep telling them more and more about the bakery, talking as I make lemon curd on the stove. It’s easy to get lost in talking about it. About all the things I got to do while the bakery was open and all the things I wanted to do that I never got the chance to.
The three of them listen raptly, sometimes asking questions, sometimes just listening to me go on about things.
“I was worried at first, because there’s so many little places in this town that have baked goods, but I realized they’re all different. Some of them are more corporate, and you can tell they’re selling mass produced stuff that comes out of a plastic package, and that’s all well and good if that’s what you want. But the little places have special touches, personal touches from the bakers, and that’s what makes them special.”
“What kind of touches did you have?” Tristan asks, and I look at him for a second before tearing my gaze away.
“I tried to remember my regulars, for one. There was this lady who always stopped by on her way to pick her kids up from school in the afternoon. I knew she liked the lemon bars and her two kids were partial to the chocolate chip cookies, so I’d have a box ready to go for her so she could take it and go on her way. She told me sometimes it was the only treat she got all day, and that made me feel good, to be able to provide that for her. Everything that people bought to go went in these little boxes, and I put preprinted thank you notes in each one because I wanted everyone to know how grateful I was for their business.”
“That’s actually incredible,” Xavier says. “I would have loved to go to a place like that. I bet my siblings would have loved it too.”
I shrug, dusting off my hands on my apron. “I mean, it was nice in theory, but it didn’t save the bakery in the end. I still ran out of money because I was too bad at business to keep the place afloat.”
Dominic frowns. “It doesn’t sound like you’re bad at business, little bird,” he says. “Xavier’s always going on about how the clients—customers in your case—are so important, and it seems like you did your best to do make sure they kept coming back.”
“I guess so, but there’s more to it than that, right? Money is important, and I wasn’t good at that part of it. The rent on the building increased several times, and I wasn’t ready to handle it. I didn’t have enough set aside, and I should have been more willing to cut back on ingredients or something to make ends meet. I just didn’t have enough business to keep up, and that’s on me.”
All three of them frown now, exchanging looks. “How many times did the rent go up?” Xavier asks.
“I don’t know… four times maybe? Maybe five.”
“Increasing rent isn’t unheard of,” Tristan says. “But it’s usually over the course of years. And you’re supposed to get prior notice before it happens.”
“I… definitely didn’t get notice. Not in enough time for me to do anything about it,” I tell him. “The landlord would come in and tell me he was raising the rent for the next month, and I’d have to scramble to figure something out.”
“How much was rent when you started out?” Dominic wants to know.
“Twenty-eight hundred a month. I remember thinking that was a pretty good deal because a lot of other places were going for over three thousand.”
“And by the time you had to close?”
I sigh. “Over five thousand. I just couldn’t keep up.”
“That’s… even if you were open for years, the rent almost doubling is insane, shortcake,” Xavier says. “That’s robbery.”
“Yeah, that’s an absurd increase. Especially considering that part of town isn’t new or being improved. The property value did not go up that much over that amount of time.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.
“It means that what your landlord did isn’t okay,” Tristan says.
I look down at the bowl of cookie base I’m working with and smile, touched. They’re being so protective of me now, and I like that. I like that it feels like they’re on my side when it comes to stuff like this.
But even still, it’s too late to do anything about it. I think about all the things the three of them had to overcome to get their businesses off the ground and keep them going, and I know I just wasn’t cut out to handle the hardship that came my way.
“It is what it is,” I tell them. “I couldn’t pay the rent, and my business failed because of it.”
Dominic looks like he wants to argue, but Xavier gets up and comes over to the kitchen island. “Can I help with anything?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, brightening with a smile. “You can press this cookie dough into this pan. This will be the base of the lemon bars.”
“Make sure you tell him that it goes in the pan and not in his mouth,” Dom says dryly.
Xavier makes a face a him, and then follows my example, pressing cookie dough into the pan with the bottom of a measuring cup.
Once it goes into the oven, he pulls me into his arms and presses a kiss to my cheek. “You’re so good at this,” he says. “It already smells so good in here.”
“You’re just smelling me,” I reply, giggling when he nuzzles my neck with his nose.
“Same difference.”
I laugh again, my mood lifting after the depressing turn the conversation took before.