If I close my eyes, I’d swear I was inside her, except with the most dexterous cock imaginable. Every rub, every press against that soft, bubble-like spot deep inside her center ricochets up my spine. She clenches around the length of my tail at the same time, nails digging in, and I feel her lose herself, coming apart between us.
Feeling her go wild, impaled and trembling between my brother and me, is the single most glorious moment of my life. Beyond battle, beyond any victory or careful scheme—waking to find her grasping my tail and tugging me into her sacred placewill be the memory I cherish above all others. This, I think wildly, I want to hold on to. Forever.
I feel our shared spine stiffen, pleasure rocking us both. It is my body and not my body; I control nothing except our tail, but I don’t care. I’m awake, and I feel the echoes of my brother’s release—his cock spilling while I shudder with phantom pleasure.
Adrenaline lights up my brain, and together, the three of us quake and drip and clench around one another. The spray keeps falling, steady as rain, as if it could wash away every secret.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the world shifts. I’m no longer behind the veil of sensation. I’m looking at the back of Lo-Ren’s head, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, and my own cock is still stiff, though spent and dripping, embedded in the dark ring of her body. My cock now.
I shudder, one last tremor of release spilling from me as she clenches again. I reach back instinctively, but of course I can’t see my brother.
“Brother?” My voice cracks despite me. Silence.
I bow my forehead to the smooth slope of her back, grief and awe warring in my chest. With a quiet grunt, I carefully withdraw from her precious flesh.
“Who’s there?” she asks, voice uncertain.
My chest tightens. Will she hate me now? “Romulus,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just Romulus now.”
It feels both wrong and right to have this stolen moment with her. But I still feel her hand on my tail, the memory of her guiding both of us. When she stiffens slightly, fear lances through me.
Still, I dare to speak. “May I wash you clean?”
She stays facing forward, inhales sharply, then answers in a quiet, furtive voice. “Yes. Please.”
My hands tremble as I reach for the flesh I’ve just been inside. I find the soap, rub my palms until suds bloom, then dare to touch the soft globes of her ass. She trembles at my touch—not from cold; the air is thick with steam—but from something else.
“Is this too much?” I murmur, palms paused on her sumptuous curves.
“N-no,” she stutters. “P-please.”
Maybe it’s wrong to steal this moment without Remus. Maybe it’s mercy. I tell myself she needs to be cleaned after our release as I slide my soapy hand down the seam of her ass, working toward the place we just claimed together.
She hisses when my fingers brush her sensitive back entrance. My cock stirs again, hardening, but I force myself to ignore it. Instead, I focus on her. I unhook the shower head, directing the warm spray with one hand and washing gently with the other as soap and seed slip down her thighs.
“So beautiful,” I can’t help hissing. She’s slightly bent, her gorgeous ass pushed back for me. From this angle her pussy glistens, and gods help me, I want to slip my fingers there, taste her until she forgets she ever knew my brother’s name.
“Is this wrong?” she whispers suddenly, straightening and spinning to face me. Her doe-dark eyes search mine. Droplets cling to her lashes; her breasts sway, heavy and wet, and it takes all my discipline not to look down.
“I’m with Remus,” she says softly. “And he seemed okay with what just happened, but this…” she gestures between us, frowning.
“Don’t worry.” My voice is low, careful, each word placed like a stone. Every instinct screams at me to pull her close, to take her mouth, to push her back against the marble and work her sweet pussy until she cries my name. But instead, I lean forward and press a single, reverent kiss to her forehead. “We can get out and dry off now.”
I reach behind her to turn off the shower, and she gasps—the sound knifing through me—because my cock is still hard, long, and unspent. But I won’t push.
She’s been so brave, so unafraid to open herself to us. I might wish to taste her, to claim more, but I will not beg heaven for the kingdom when I’ve been granted a day pass to the palace.
We step out of the shower in silence, the bathroom still steamy. I hand her a thick, soft towel and wrap another gently around her hair. Only then do I take one for myself.
I lead her back into the other room, where clothes have been discreetly laid out on a cart just inside the door. Did Remus forget to lock it? Or did some unlucky servant earn an earful after overhearing what we weren’t quiet about in the bath?
Lo-Ren turns her back to me as she dresses, so I do the same, giving her privacy even though my mind is still a battlefield of images: her wet, naked body in my arms, the tremors of her pleasure around me. No, that isn’t something a man forgets quickly. Or ever.
I’ve gotten so used to her silence that her voice startles me when it finally cuts through the quiet.
“Are you okay with what just happened?” she asks, words tumbling out fast. “Because—god—to wake up to that, and not have any say in what’s happening—We’re barely even friends, and then you wake up to Remus being intimate with me with your own body. I can’t even imagine what this has been like for you. How weird?—”
“Not weird at all,” I say immediately, perhaps too quickly. I turn back to her as I pull a sweater over my head. She’s dressed in a similar dark sweater and fitted jeans, and she looks soft and strong all at once. “I know I haven’t always expressed myself well. But I find you very attractive.”
