Chapter 9 #3
My eyelids grow heavy, but I don't want to go to bed—not when I feel so much safer right here. Just as they flutter closed, his hand travels up my stomach, covering my breast, gripping it, but not hard enough to hurt, before he begins toying with my nipple, rolling it between his fingertips.
I glance over at Nolan, still focused on whatever he's doing on his laptop.
His hand moves slowly enough to go unnoticed under the blanket while he teases each nipple into hard points while his breath against the back of my neck grows heavier. When he pinches a little harder, I bite my lip to keep quiet and arch my back, feeling him rock hard against my backside.
Wet heat pools between my thighs, my clit begging for attention.
"You know, I'm kind of obsessed with the way your body responds to me," he whispers into my ear. "But I bet you kind of hate it, don't you?"
I nod.
"I've fucked a lot of girls who put on a performance to show me how much they want it," he continues, his fingertips trailing down my stomach and inside my lace thong, finding my clit.
I grind my teeth, trying to keep my breathing controlled and steady, risking another glance at Nolan while he circles the swollen nub.
"It gets kind of boring. I think I like your performance the best—watching you pretend you don't want it, seeing your internal struggle while your body begs for it.
It's so much more fun to know you just can't help it. You can't stop yourself."
But I'm too drunk for an internal struggle right now. I just want to beg for it. I want him to take me to the bedroom and bend me over the edge of the bed.
I need the distraction.
I reach behind me and inside his sweatpants, gripping his long, hard shaft in my hand. I work him torturously slow, too, returning the painfully delicious favor, running my thumb over the tip while it twitches in my hand.
He thrusts into my fist, panting against my neck while he pulls my earlobe through his teeth. I moan just a little—I can't help it—but Nolan doesn't look up. My heart pounds as I watch him in my periphery, rolling my hips, grinding my clit against Dax's fingers.
I can hear how wet I am now. Only a thin layer of soaked lace separates my pussy and the head of his cock while he fucks my hand. If he pulled it over just a little bit, he'd slip inside me, and then I'd be getting fucked on this couch in front of Nolan.
I should move before I let it happen.
"I'm going to go to bed," I whisper.
"Nah, let's let him watch, Saige." His fingers leave my pussy, and he begins working my thong and sleep shorts down my legs.
"W-what?"
"Nolan thinks you're pretty," he says. "And he likes to watch."
Nolan closes his laptop and sets it aside, folding his arms in front of him.
Watching. Maybe he's been watching the whole time.
"This all falls within the realm of whatever we want, which you agreed to. You let Elias watch."
My heart pounds, my head swimming from the alcohol.
"Elias made me."
"Yeah, I don't want to make you," he says. "I want you to let me show you how good it'll be. I want you to make Nolan happy."
You agreed to this. I knew. I knew this was what I was agreeing to when they made me seal it with a kiss. I just hoped I was wrong.
Dax tosses the blanket aside, his fully erect cock bare with his sweats down around his hips. He pulls my shorts and thong the rest of the way down my legs before discarding them, too, and then does the same with my tank top.
"Fucking Christ," he says, stroking his dick over me. I look across the room, dark other than the light coming from the television, at Nolan. He's just sitting there, slouched in his chair, one hand propping up his head while he stares at me over the top of his glasses.
He's studying me now.
My cheeks burn red. I feel my heart in my throat.
"Your body is so fuckable. Elias is an idiot," Dax says.
Elias? What does he have to do with this?
"Turn over, baby. I want you to bend over the end of the couch with your ass in the air."
That works better for me, actually—I won't have to make eye contact with Nolan.
I turn over like he asked, lying across the end of the couch with my head on the armrest and my ass in the air.
"So fucking pretty."
Dax runs a finger through my wetness. He spreads my legs wider, and I know how bare and exposed I must be. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears now.
"And so wet."
"Please, just fuck me."
Finally, I feel him position himself at my opening, running the head up and down my slit, and my whole body relaxes. "You want it bad, don't you?"
He's taunting me, and I hate it. He knows I don't want to want him like this. "I just want to feel something else," I whimper.
Something other than the fear and panic that's consumed me for the past week.
"Say please again," he says, pushing the tip inside.
"Please!"
He sinks all the way into me, burying himself to the hilt. Bare, just like he told me he wanted. "Say please again."
"Please…"
"Every inch of me can feel all of you now, baby," he says before pulling out and thrusting back into me. "Doesn't it feel good?"
"Yes…" All of him at this angle…feels fucking amazing.
"I told you she was a good slut for me," he tells Nolan.
I look up and realize I can see both of them in the reflection of the sliding glass door. Nolan watches with his hand inside his sweatpants. His tongue darts out, licking his lips.
Maybe it's the alcohol, but I realize I want him to like what he sees.
Dax spreads my cheeks wide, and I watch him watch his dick pumping in and out of me, his abs flexing with each thrust.
"Oh, god," I moan. "Dax…oh, my god."
I arch my back, and he groans, abandoning his steady pace for something more punishing, gripping a handful of my hair right at the scalp and using it for leverage.
I whimper from both pain and pleasure, gritting my teeth while each thrust of his hips brings me closer to the edge. Fuck him. Fuck him for being who he is and being so fucking good at this.
"You take it so fucking well, Ripley," he groans.
"Dax…"
I look up at the glass door again—at Nolan's reflection. His hand isn't inside his pants anymore; his hard dick is in his hand, pumping it while he watches Dax fuck me.
The sight makes my pussy clench. I'm going to come.
I arch my back, my eyes rolling back in my head, and I come apart, my pussy squeezing around his cock.
"Oh…fuck…fuck…"
"That's it, baby," Dax says, increasing his pace while he fucks me through the orgasm. "That's a good fucking girl. Fuck, that feels good. I'm going to fill you up with so much cum, Saige, your pussy is going to be dripping all day tomorrow."
"Dax!" I cry out, even though I'm looking right at Nolan. I'm watching him fuck his fist, the tip dripping before a long, low growl comes from somewhere in his chest.
White ropes of cum shoot from Nolan's cock, his jaw clenching while they paint the front of his sweatshirt and run down the side of his fist. In the haze of my orgasm, I have the sick thought that he should have made me take it in my mouth.
Dax groans, burying himself deep inside my pussy when he comes, his dick pulsing inside me. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling every last fucking bit of it, just like he told me I would.
He stills, leaving it inside me, trailing his fingertips up and down my back.
"You're my little slut now, Saige," he says. "My own personal fuck doll living in my house."
I open my eyes, looking into the glass door, but Nolan is gone. Dax leans over me, brushing my hair away from my face before bringing his lips to mine, kissing me, claiming me.
"I know how bad you need it. And I'll take good care of you as long as you keep taking good care of me…and of Nolan."
He sits up, sucking air through his teeth when he pulls his dick out of me, then he adjusts his sweatpants and sinks back into the couch.
I flip over onto my back, and Dax pushes my legs apart, staring down at my swollen, dripping pussy.
"You look so fucking hot like that," he says. "I'm going to fuck you like this every time. I promise outside of this house, I'll wear a condom."
It's quick, but I feel it—a sharp stab of pain in my gut that I instantly will away, stuffing it down the way I have most of my feelings for the past two years. After all, I know he isn't mine, and I would never want him to be.
Dax doesn't realize he said anything wrong—to him, what he said was probably sweet and considerate.
He smiles and kisses me again. "Have you ever been with two people at the same time, Ripley?"
I swallow a lump in my throat. "No."
Running his hand over my chest and down the front of my body, he says, "That's okay. You're going to fucking love it. And I like it when you're a little scared. Let's go to bed."
I get up, gather my clothes, and head for the spare bedroom.
"Where are you going?" Dax asks. "My bed is bigger."
"I—I need to shower."
He shrugs. "I don't want you to shower. You can shower tomorrow."
I hesitate. "I don't know. I should probably just sleep down here."
Dax rolls his eyes. "No. Come on," he says. "I like holding you, and when I wake up, I'm going to come in you again."
I glance toward the spare room and then back at Dax, remembering how scared I was last night, the nightmares, and how much better I slept with him in the room. And even though I'm still swollen and dripping, I like the idea of getting fucked bare again in the morning, too.
"Be a good girl and say yes, Saige…"
"Yeah, okay."
I follow him up the staircase and then into his bedroom, where he gives me one of his t-shirts before changing his own clothes and crawling into bed.
I guess he really does like holding me, because as soon as I climb under the covers, he pulls me into him, curling his body around mine, and kissing my neck.
"Nolan doesn't like stuff like this. He doesn't like cuddling or hugging or kissing…just so you know. He doesn't like hands on his body, not even on top of his clothes."
"Okay…" But I think I know why he's telling me this, and it isn't just so I know. He's preparing me. He wants me to fuck Nolan, too.
"I fucking love it, though. See how well we fit, baby?" he asks, lacing his fingers with my own.
I don't want to answer, so I simply press my lips to the back of his hand.
"You feel like a Christmas present, Saige."
I swallow hard, closing my eyes, and let sleep pull me under.