“How about we order some Chinese food? I could eat a horse right now,” Oliver suggests.
Misha laughs, moving to stand beside us. “Make sure to order extra spring rolls. Amelia’s swimming must’ve burned enough calories for all of us.”
Grey’s fingers pause their exploration, and when I lean back, he cradles my jaw, turning my head to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes lightly over my lips, and I let out a breath.
“Are you hungry, baby?” Grey asks, but it sounds like he’s asking for something different than food.
Bloody hell.
“Yes.”
He starts to stroke my thigh again, his fingers gliding up and down, moving a little farther up with every pass. My body turns into a taut bowstring, humming with anticipation as Grey’s fingers dance across my skin with the precision of a maestro. They come between us, and he pushes my bikini bottom to the side so his fingers can find me bare.
“Grey,” I breathe out, looking at him with wide eyes. “We’re in public.”
“We’re not,” he says, stroking me under the water, making me squirm. “The door is locked, and the cameras are off. But say the word, and I’ll stop.”
He looks at me challengingly while Misha steps up behind me, and Grey’s fingers find my clit. I let my head fall back onto Misha’s shoulder, moaning.
Fuck this is…
Exhilarating.
“Looks like food can wait a little longer,” Misha murmurs, his hands coming to cup my ass.
I’m panting, suspended between the pleasure of Grey and Misha’s touch and the reality of where we are. Grey’s fingers continue their relentless assault on my clit, each circling motionpushing me closer and closer to the brink. Misha’s hands massage my ass cheeks, his fingers teasing the edge of my bikini bottom.
The sensation of Grey’s finger slipping inside me sends a jolt of pleasure through my body, and I arch my back, pressing into his touch. Then, I feel Misha’s fingers join his, their rhythm syncing as they finger fuck me in unison.
Oh my God.
I feel so full, desperately arching even more into their touch, as Oliver’s lips find the sensitive skin of my neck, his tongue tracing a path downward to tease my nipples through the flimsy barrier of my bikini top, his teeth tugging at the fabric. The sensation of his tongue through the material sends shivers down my spine, and when he pulls the cup down to expose my nipple, the feeling of his warm mouth licking and sucking without barrier is almost too much to bear.
Misha’s lips find the sensitive skin of my neck, his teeth nipping at my earlobe, while Grey’s mouth captures mine in a searing kiss.
Their movements become quicker, more frantic, as the familiar tension coils in my stomach. They’re bringing me to the edge, the pleasure almost unbearable, and just when I think I can’t take it anymore, there’s a knock on the door.
The sound startles me, but Grey’s voice is a low growl in my ear, “Ignore it, baby. Just let go. Focus on me. Focus on us.” His words are a command and a plea, his fingers never ceasing their sweet torment.
I’m torn but their touches don’t falter, and I decide to listen to Grey, to take the pleasure they’re offering. They don’t stop, their fingers working in tandem, their mouths worshiping my body. My orgasm is building, threatening to overwhelm me.
I’m panting heavily, my heart pounding in my chest as they bring me to the brink, and just as I’m about to fall over the edge,there’s another knock on the door. But this time, I’m too far gone to care. The orgasm hits me like a wave, crashing over me as I cry out, my body shuddering with the force of it, and I’m clamping down on their fingers, making Misha and Grey curse.
The knocking persists, more demanding, but it’s a distant echo compared to the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears. The sensation of Grey and Misha withdrawing their fingers sends ripples of residual pleasure coursing through me.
I’m vaguely aware of the sound of a manual key unlocking the door.
Oliver has just enough time to pull up my bikini top, and Grey hands me over to Misha, who holds me close, his body shielding me from view when he turns us. Grey and Oliver stand in front of us, creating a barrier between me and the intruder.
Looking over Misha’s shoulder, I recognize the facility manager, whose eyes widen with surprise as he takes in the scene.
My cheeks flame with embarrassment, but Grey is already on his way out of the pool. “Thank God, someone found us. It looks like somebody played a prank on us and locked us in.”
Misha chuckles in my ear, whispering, “Grey Donovan could lie his way out of the Pentagon.”
I watch Grey talk some more, but I can’t make out what he says. The man sputters an apology, his face a mask of mortification, before retreating hastily. When he’s gone, I release a breath, the laughter that bubbles up from within me a mixture of relief and lingering adrenaline.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Misha carries me over to the ladder, and Oliver is already waiting for me to climb out of the pool. He puts my glasses on my nose before holding my towel open for me, gently drying me and enveloping me in a warm hugas I step into it. Only once I’m wrapped up, Oliver kisses my nose, then grabs his towel and quickly dries off.
