“There are no winners,” I rush to say, even as I’m kicking off my shoes, elated with the impossibility of the day. Private tours at the most prestigious art museums in the world.
It’s a privilege I never thought I would get, and it makes me feel legitimate in a way I couldn’t before. Now, applying to art school, I have a clearer idea of what I want to do with my painting. A firmer foundation of what art is, and what it means to me.
And Cole made that happen in just a day.
Now here I am, standing just inside the door of a massive, luxurious suite. Another chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and plush red velvet chairs are scattered throughout the space. The drapes are that fancy, particular kind, where they swoop across to the side, layered down to the blinds.
Through the bay windows, Paris sparkles, a collection of jewels strewn about in the night. The Eiffel Tower is visible, glittering just as brightly for a moment, before blinking off again.
Everything is red and gold and charcoal, and the room smells like the fresh red roses scattered about in vases.
Staring at Dane, and Nico, I’m reminded of our dates, what each of them did to me, for me. Dane behind me, guiding that toy in and out. Opening me up, showing me how to relax. Nico, unabashedly eating me in a way I’d never anticipated, bringing a flavor of pleasure completely new to me.
Maybe I’m not ready. But I feel ready.
I turn and step into Cole, barely registering the dullthunkof our bags as he drops them to the floor, his arms coming around me, pulling me in. He’d specifically turned down the offer for the bell hop—we only had the two duffel bags, and he wanted to protect our privacy.
As I kiss Cole, I’m aware of the sounds behind me, the movement. Then, Cole walks me backward, and I’m in a massive gilded bathroom, whichalsohas a chandelier.
I pull back from him to laugh, but then the guys are stripping me down, their hands all over me, thumbs brushing against nipples and palms skating over the hair at the apex of my thighs.
It’s overwhelming in the best way. Together, a single unit, we step into the shower, which rains down over us as we soap each other. I touch them, breathe them in, run my fingers and lips and teeth over their skin, warm and water-softened.
Then I’m toweled off, and Dane picks me up. I wrap my legs around him automatically, remembering that night in the hotel, when I fell in the shower.
If I hadn’t fallen, would any of this be happening right now?
Holding me the entire time, he sits at the edge of the massive bed and scoots to the middle, his cock sliding against me with each jostle. Dane grabs the pillows from the top of the bed, dragging them down so there’s room over his head.
Then I’m straddling him, his dick against me but not inside, and he’s staring up at me with dark, heated eyes.
Wordlessly, Nico climbs onto the bed at Dane’s head. There’s heat at my back, a quiet, wanting sigh, and I know it’s Cole. A shiver runs over my skin, and Dane must feel it, because his hands tighten on my hips.
This is it. The scene I described to them while touching myself for them that day.
“We’re going to take it as slow as you need,” Dane says, like it’s to me and also a proclamation for the entire room. I swallow and nod, remembering what it was like the first time I tried to take all of him, on the plane. Now, the idea of doing that—taking him vaginally and Cole anally at the same time? It feels impossible.
Cole is smaller than Dane, but not by much.
“I have lube,” Cole murmurs from behind me, as though he can hear my thoughts. I feel his tentative touch, fingers sliding over the arch of my ass, then inside, slicking me with the lube. I shudder again, this time from the anticipation. In front of me, Nico sits back on his heels, his eyes dark, his hand already moving on his cock.
Dane is hard under me, but I need more.
I need to be ready.
So, I lean down and kiss Dane, let him take over the way he does, his tongue sliding against mine like he can steal my breathwith each swipe. I kiss him and kiss him, and as I do, Cole keeps his hand against my ass, prodding and touching, a feeling like a thumb on my clit, but different.
Then, Dane’s hands are on my hips, and he’s lifting me, meeting my eyes, “Ready?” he rasps, staring up at me with blown-out pupils.
I nod, and then I’m sinking down onto his cock, taking him one inch at a time. Nico’s gaze is locked on the place where Dane and I connect, my pussy stretching to take his cock. It’s erotic, knowing Cole and Nico are both watching this. I can tell Cole likes it from the way his hand moves faster, from how he slides one knuckle inside me, his forehead resting against my back.
“Fuck,” Dane breathes, holding me completely still, his hands a vice grip on my hips. “Don’t move, Lucy.”
“No.” The word slips out of me almost without thinking.
When I look down at Dane, his eyes flash, his hands tightening on my hips as I start to move on him, and his cock twitches violently in response. Already, I’m thinking of how he might punish me later for it, and it’s turning me on.
Apparently, it’s turning him on more, too. Maybe the only thing he likes more than my obedience is when I deny him it.
