He scoops me up and carries me to a bench in the shower and sets me down. Alright, shower sex it is. I place my hands on my knees and spread my legs wide, ready for his mouth to—I squeal as ice-cold water suddenly pours over me from the showerhead positioned in the ceilin’.
“What the hell?” I object as frigid water dumps down on me, shockin’ my senses and pissin’ me right off. Alder just looks at me, those damn arms crossed again.
I scowl. “I’m still horny as hell, so the only thing this cold shower nonsense is doin’ is makin’ me decide to force you to watch while I ride Flint’s cock. That’ll teach you to look a gift-vagina in the crotch.” I pause. There’s no way that’s the sayin’, but I can’t for the life of me think of what it’s supposed to be.
Flint chuckles and then once again moves to my feet and quickly works to pull the rest of the glass from my skin. Water soaks him in no time, clothes and all, and he looks how my pussy feels...wet and ready.
I angle my spread thighs for him, so he can get a nice long look at my promised land. Flint grinds his jaw and starts grumblin’ to himself.
I frown.What the hell?He should be usin’ that tongue on other things besides talkin’ right now.
Fingers lace themselves in my hair, and I look up to find Alder pourin’ shampoo in his palm. Okay, I can work with this. Alder will wash my hair, but when the bubbles fall on my chest, he’ll have no choice but to wash those off too. Then Flint will give in and dive face-first between my thighs. After several orgasms, I’ll drop to my knees and take turns suckin’ both of their cocks until we all fuck long and hard and then take a good nap.
Sounds perfect.
A yawn works its way through me all of a sudden, but I try to shake off the drowsiness that’s come over me and focus back on my to-do list for this shower sex-a-thon that I’m plannin’. Alder rinses out the soap in my hair while the water gets rid of the last of the blood, but I’m hit with another wave of tiredness, and I yawn again.
“Thank the fucking Rings of Hell, it’s kicking in,” Alder says, lettin’ out a ragged sigh.
“What is?” I ask, my question punctuated with another jaw-crackin’ yawn.
“The tonic I gave you earlier,” he explains.
I blink, but my eyelids are heavy. “Hold up, you said that was for pain and healin’,” I argue.
“It is. The best way for you to heal is with deep, uninterrupted sleep,” he counters.
My brow furrows. “But Iwantinterrupted sleep. A whole lot of it, with both of you. So many interruptions,” I tell him, feelin’ my limbs turn to Jell-O.
They don’t say a thing.
“Wait. Y’all don’t...want me?” I ask, my voice small and hurt.
I close my knees and bring my hands up to cover my naked chest, the cold water makin’ me feel vulnerable as embarrassment floods me. The lusty fire that was in my blood turns to ice. I’ve been throwin’ myself at these two, but they were just waitin’ for the tonic to take effect so they could be rid of me?
Flint’s hand gently skates up my calf and squeezes my uninjured knee. I don’t want to look at him, but he grips my chin and forces my head up, my gaze seein’ the water slickin’ down his face, makin’ his black hair stick against his skin in a sexycaught in the rainkinda look.
“Peaches, believe me when I say that there isnothingwe want more. You say those words to us when you’re not in the middle of an itch, and we will interrupt you until you beg us to stop,” he promises me, the wicked desire in his eyes enough to make most of my embarrassment wash away. He’s tellin’ the truth. No way could he fake the level of heat sparkin’ in his smoky eyes. “But until then, sleep,” he tells me, and I make a grumpy noise in response.
With a sigh, I lean against Alder’s warm skin as the shower turns off and I’m lifted into his arms. I feel soft lips press against my forehead for the briefest of seconds before they’re gone, but all I can do in response is succumb to the sleep that’s tuggin’ at me.
20
Iwake up face-first in a puddle.
But as I peel open an eye, I realize that it’s not a puddle so much as my own drool that’s soaked into the pillow. “Ugh.”
With a grimace, I scoot away from the nasty drool patch and push up on one elbow, lookin’ down at the offendin’ wet spot. I’m not an open-mouthed sleeper who drools into her pillow, so what the hell? Did I get drunk last night and pass out?
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, memories slam back into me. “Oh, shit.”
The attack. My parents goin’ to a safe house. Flint and Alder cleanin’ me up. And...
“Doubleshit,” I groan as I remember how I propositioned them, my hand flyin’ up to my mouth. But then I find that the corner has some drool, so I groan again and quickly swipe at it. I’m fairly certain I shamelessly suggested that they screw my brains out while I was covered in glass and blood and demon dust.
Real classy, Medley.
I sit my naked ass up on the bed and visualize slappin’ myself silly as I give myself a firm lecture. Itch or no, that was just sad.
