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The whole day is a blissful masquerade of pretending that we’re more to each other than we are. Pretending that, at the end of the day, I’m not leaving.
The thought makes my heart ache. I tried so hard not to let these men burrow their way into my affections, but I failed. I’ve never felt so cared for before, and I don’t want to let it go.
But you barely know them, I tell myself all day. Is it worth the risk?
My heart tells me it is—that it’ll be worth getting broken again if it means more time in the arms of Elliot, Oliver, and Rhett. But my mind isn’t so sure, and it’s always been more reliable than my foolish heart.
They’ve known each other since high school. And while they may be a few years older than I am, that’s still almost ten years for me. So for them, it’s even longer.
How can I compare to that? They know each other inside out. Could I fit into their relationship? Do they want me to?
As I’m sitting on the couch next to Elliot, the thought that they don’t want me stings. Of course, this all started as a one-night thing with Elliot, and then it turned into a weekend.
But none of them have brought up the idea of extending this—for a week, a month, indefinitely, whatever.
And I’m too scared to brave asking the question myself.
“Something’s on your mind.” Elliot closes his book, setting it on the arm of the couch and turning to me.
Both Rhett and Oliver look up from the puzzle they’re working on together. With all three of them watching me, I can’t help but squirm.
“I don’t really want to talk about it. If that’s okay.” I stare down at my book while I say the last part.
“Of course it is, love.” Elliot kisses my forehead, and it sends a mixture of happiness and dread through me.
Maybe I should just leave now. The longer I draw it out, the harder this is going to be.
But I can’t seem to bring myself to ask one of them to take me home. And when dinnertime rolls around again, I find myself sneaking into Elliot’s room to change into the skimpiest, laciest nightgown I’ve ever seen.
It doesn’t even come halfway down my ass, and it shows off a bit of underboob—which I’m sure will have Oliver drooling. With a smile at myself in the mirror, I turn, admiring myself from every angle.
Last night, it was ridiculously satisfying to watch all three men adjust themselves in their pants when I came down to dinner dressed in almost nothing. I can’t wait to do it again.
I catch Rhett’s reflection in the mirror. He’s holding something in his hands that I can’t quite make out.
“Christ,” he mutters.
I turn, letting him admire my curves. “What do you think?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you hate us. You’re really going to make us sit through dinner with you wearing this?”
I nod, giggling.
He sighs. “At least it’ll be worth it.” With a few steps, he’s on me, backing me into the bed. One of his hands fists the hair at the back of my head, pulling it so I’m looking up at him. “Tonight, I’m taking this perfect ass of yours. And you’re going to thank me afterward.”
I nod, a smile forming on my lips.
“Now turn around and put your ass in the air.”
I obey, gasping when he shoves my panties down and gives me a lick from my clit to my asshole.
“Relax, sweetheart.”
I do, taking a couple of deep breaths. I feel his finger prodding me, already wet with lube, and I moan when he pushes inside of me.
“Tell me, do you want me?” He nips at one of my ass cheeks.
“Yes,” I whimper as he adds a second finger. I haven’t forgotten that he’s only been in my mouth so far. “Please, Rhett. Please.”
