Chapter 23 #2
Kingston reaches back and holds my ass cheeks apart for Sebastian.
I feel so exposed, so vulnerable. Sebastian smears slippery lube over my asshole, adding more and more with his fingers, touching me there, once again getting me used to this scintillating-yet-taboo sensation.
Soon, I don’t think it’s his fingers touching me there anymore.
There’s a pressure against my back hole, and I look at Kingston. Is this really happening?
Kingston strokes slowly in and out of my pussy, and that sensation distracts me somewhat from Sebastian’s slow penetration. But it can’t take my mind off of my ass entirely, especially when my ass begins to burn and stretch.
“Ow, owie, Daddy,” I say.
Sebastian pauses. “Do you need me to wait? I think it’ll be better if I keep going, but it’s up to you, Ella.”
“No, go ahead.” I exhale. If he thinks it’ll be better if he continues, then he should do that. “I trust you.”
More pressure. This is impossible. Maybe we should quit.
“You’re doing great,” Sebastian says in a soothing voice. “This is perfect. You are perfect. Push back a tiny bit, sweetheart, like you’re trying to push me out.”
I do as he asks, and feel the ease in pressure yet a new fullness as he forces his way inside.
“There you go, princess,” he says in a raspy voice. “Fuck. This feels so fucking good. She’s so tight, King. She’s going to squeeze my dick off.”
I would laugh at that impossible image, but I’m afraid of moving at all. I hold myself completely still. I don’t want them to keep going, but I do want them to keep going. When Sebastian starts to move, I say, “Wait, hold on.”
He goes still immediately, and Kingston stops moving, too.
“What is it, precious?” Kingston asks, looking into my eyes. “We can stop entirely if you want.”
“No, don’t stop. But don’t go.” I sound like a babbling idiot, but I don’t know what I want.
“Okay, that’s it, we should quit now,” Sebastian says. He doesn’t sound angry or even disappointed, just concerned for me.
“No…” I moan as he starts to pull out. It feels so fucking good that my moan of disappointment transforms into a wail of pleasure. “I want more, please, Daddies, don’t stop—keep going. I want more.”
“Are you sure, princess?” Sebastian asks. “We can try again another time. I mean it, and I’m not mad or upset.”
“Yes, Daddy, please ,” I say. “I’m sure. Keep going.”
“Okay.” He adds some lube to the place where we join, and thrusts into me again.
I moan at the pressure. Kingston stretches forward to capture my mouth in his, kissing me while he takes turns thrusting, in time with Sebastian’s thrusts.
I’m completely pinned between them, unable to move one way or the other.
I’ve never felt so tight and so full. My skin is hypersensitive and my pulse pounds everywhere—especially in my clit.
Every thrust from either of them forces my clit to rub harder against Kingston’s pelvis.
I’d probably be coming already if they were moving just a tiny bit faster.
But I don’t think I’m ready for fast, not yet.
My body feels on edge and full and I just don’t know what will happen when I come, anyway.
“Are you doing okay, little one?” Kingston asks.
I nod. “I think so.”
“Is there anything you want right now?”
I have everything I want—these two men with me, holding me, loving me. But there is one thing….
“I want to come,” I whisper.
“You will,” Kingston says. “You can come whenever you’re ready.”
“I need it now. But I’m afraid.”
He kisses my lips, his stormy eyes intent on mine. “Okay, baby girl. You don’t have to be scared. Your daddies are going to take care of you.”
He and Sebastian increase the speed of their strokes, wordlessly communicating, somehow, and carrying me along, up a cliff of pleasure.
Every stroke is new bliss, divine ecstasy, their cocks strong and sure, their hands and arms holding me in place, anchoring me here while pushing me to the ledge at the same time.
My clit rubs harder and faster against Kingston’s base, and it won’t be long. I’m gasping, crying out, begging them for my release, my body tight, toes curled, fingers clenching at the bedspread.
I come in a blaze of delight, of fierce, phenomenal electricity. My whole body is lit up from the inside out.
Sebastian shouts, “Fuck! Fuck, yes,” and I feel his pulsing as he empties into me.
Kingston comes a heartbeat later, pulling me tight against his chest and biting down on my shoulder.
Not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to leave a small mark.
He immediately pulls back and looks at my shoulder, his eyes full of concern.
“It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me,” I say.
His eyes are still troubled.
“Are you disappointed you didn’t hurt me?” I ask.
“No, I just—I lost control,” he says. “That never happens. What if I drew blood?”
“You didn’t, though,” I say.
“You’re right.” He smiles up at me and brushes hair from my forehead.
I wince as Sebastian eases out of me. He walks away and is back a moment later with some damp washcloths. They help clean me up, which is good, because I don’t feel like I can move. I feel limp and tired and all-around used in the very best way.
We settle into bed and I curl up with my men. Schrodinger climbs up and bats at my feet through the bedspread for a few minutes before settling over my shins. I’ve never felt so content in my life. Sore, yes, from that intense sex. But incredibly content.
I know this is just a vacation, and that come Monday, I’m going to be back at Dorado Terrace, cleaning hallways and dreaming about music. But for the moment, everything is absolutely perfect.
Ella
Sure enough, Dorado Terrace is waiting for me when I return to work on the following Thursday.
Melinda, my boss, is aware of what went down prior to my unexpected vacation.
She offered to give me more time, but I don’t really need it.
Besides, I refuse to mooch off of my rich boyfriends. It’s just not how I was raised.
I arrive before Brent and Gail, and hurry to the cleaning closet. Terrence and Squid are my bodyguards today. Because even though I evaded my personal security last week, they’ve all forgiven me. I still feel terrible for not trusting them, but they understand.
It’s hard not to feel like a fool, getting tricked like that. But I push the unpleasant thoughts away. I just had an amazing vacation with my two amazing boyfriends. All is well.
I sing to myself as I look over my cart’s supplies. Despite my vacation being over and the demands of a usual workday ahead of me, I’m in a damned good mood. I guess a few days of excellent fucking will do that for anyone.
A folded piece of paper is taped to my cleaning cart.
We each have our own carts stowed here, because we like to have our items organized in specific ways.
I, for instance, prefer several extra rags tucked into a box on the side, whereas Gail would rather use that space for extra glass cleaner because she uses too much of it, in my opinion.
At any rate, we long ago decided to leave each other’s carts alone, and we even used markers to put our names on them.
On my cart, this piece of paper is taped right next to my name.
Curious, I unfold it.
Blocky, black letters stare back at me.
You owe us. Don’t try to get out of it.
Tell someone, and your brother dies.