She nods because she’s on the edge.
She leans forward a little, offering me her ass as she grips Greg’s shoulders.
I press a second finger to smear the oil inside her. I look at my brother, give a nod and he pulls out and when he does, I push in and she cries out in pain or pleasure or both.
Greg cups her face, watches her for a moment before turning it, kissing her neck just beneath her ear as I push deeper, and she cries out again, her tight ass squeezing my cock.
“Let me in, Helena. Relax.”
I reach around, rub her soaking clit and a moment later, she has her first orgasm and I push in as she does, and she throws her head back onto my shoulder and I see her nails digging into my brother’s shoulders and her eyes are closed and she’s coming so hard, I won’t be able to hold on for long.
“Fuck.”
I’m all the way in and I hold there for a minute, enjoying the tight squeeze of her asshole before pulling out a little as Greg pushes into her pussy.
Helena’s falling apart begging for more, begging for us to stop, clinging to Gregory, reaching for me and we fuck her hard and fast and she’s never empty, not until we both blow inside her, her cunt and ass stretched tight, taking both of us, shuddering with her own orgasm until she slumps forward over Gregory’s shoulder, her arms dropping to her sides, limp, and useless.12HelenaGregory pulls out first and when he does, I feel the rush of cum, his and mine, slide out of me.
I blink away, his gaze too intense, too much.
He’s beautiful when he comes. His eyes go soft. It’s the only time they do that.
I watched him, just for a little. I know Sebastian said eyes on him, but I had to.
Sebastian slides out of me and I have to hold on to Gregory when he does. I’m so sensitive right now. Everything is throbbing, and I know if they touch me again, I’ll break apart.
I turn in Sebastian’s arms, meet his eyes as he stands, lifts me with him. I can’t read him. I can’t ever read him. I turn my face into his chest, soft skin over hard muscle. I inhale the scent of him, feel his strength as he, without a word, walks to the stairs and begins to climb them.
When I open my eyes, it’s to look back to see Gregory there, watching us.
His eyes find mine and hold them, just for a moment, before he breaks our gaze and walks outside and all I can think is that he’s alone. Even after this, he’s still alone.
Sebastian carries me to his room, lays me on his bed.
I start to rise. “I need to shower.”
He shakes his head, slips in beside me. “I like the smell of sex on you. I like knowing my cum is still inside you.”
I lean up, kiss him, but he pulls back.
“I know,” he says.
“Know what?”
“I know you looked back. You looked back at him.”
He sees everything.
“And you looked at him when you came.”
“I wanted to watch him come. He’s beautiful. Like you.”
And lonely, I think.
I think that more and more.
Sebastian doesn’t say anything, and I sit up, lean my back against the headboard, and the soreness reminds me how he had me. How they both had me.
“What are we doing?” I ask him.
He studies my eyes, and I, his.
“Fucking,” he says, his tone harder. He gets up, goes into the bathroom. I hear water run and he returns a moment later drying himself. He remains standing.
“It’s not just fucking.”
“What is it, then?”
“I don’t know. He’s alone, Sebastian.”
“Do you want to go to him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“But he’s alone.”
“You looked at him when you came.”
I don’t reply but what I see in his eyes, it reflects my own confusion. Like he’s somehow torn.
“Why did you look at him?”
“I wanted to see.”
His forehead creases, he’s trying to understand.
“Punish me,” I say.
He’s still for a long time.
“Punish me for it.”
He seems to think about this for a long time until he finally gives me a nod and sits on the edge of the bed.
“Come here, Helena.”
I slide off the bed and go to him, stand between his knees. He takes my hands, looks at me for the longest time and I feel tears build behind my eyes. I don’t know why, though.
What we did, he wanted it. I wanted it. But this, him looking at me like this, Sebastian the most cruel and the most tender. I don’t understand my feelings for him. I don’t understand this confusion of emotions, this warring inside me.
“Punish me,” I say again, tears warming my face.
He draws me over his lap so my torso is resting on the bed and my legs are hanging off his thighs. He scissors his legs to trap mine between his and takes both of my wrists into one of his hands at the small of my back. He then rubs one cheek, then the other and when he slaps the flat of his hand over one, I gasp and think I need this.