Biting my lip so I don’t moan, I let the warm water run down my hand and over the exposed flesh. I picture Maddox walking in, seeing me like this. I picture him stepping into the shower, fully clothed, grabbing my head and kissing me the way he did, like he was fucking the mouth of a blowup doll. My own wetness coats my fingers, and I slowly push a finger inside. I’ve rubbed my clit and gotten off before, but I’ve never done this, never felt what Maddox felt that night. I remember his sounds of pleasure at how tight I was, how he whispered in my ear, asking if I was a virgin. How he came on my back when I told him I was.
Suddenly, we’re not alone in the shower. His brother is watching, like he did that night. I ride my hand, Maddox’s hand, moaning for relief. I watch Lennox’s warm, golden eyes heat to molten as Maddox bites my ear, the skin of my jaw.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
Lennox drops his clothes and steps into the shower with us. He slides in behind me, his warm, bare body against mine, his arm snaking down the front of my body. It’s his hand that squeezes my breast, pinching and stretching my nipple until I whimper. Maddox leans down, and Lennox pushes it between his hungry lips. Maddox sucks a mouthful of my flesh into his mouth with my nipple, and I moan, rocking my hips faster, fucking my fingers as I imagine it’s them.
It’s Maddox’s finger curling inside me, finding the spot he found on the floor that night. It’s Lennox’s finger, not my second one, that stretches me open to join his brother’s. It’s his thumb on my clit, rubbing as he pushes his cock to my ass the way Maddox did last time.
I remember his horrible words, but they only make me hot when it’s not real. In my imagination, when I’m safe and alone, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard as he whispers in my ear. He fists his cock, slicking it with soap, and then pushes it down, entering me from behind. He grips my hair, pulling my head back and thrusting roughly into my ass while his other hand reaches around me, spreading me open.
“Take her virginity,” he tells his brother. Maddox leans down over my upturned face, taking my mouth again while he wraps my legs around his hips and forces his cock past my entrance. I buck against them as they fill me at once, each of them driving into me and driving me deeper onto the other’s cock, impaling me until I’m panting and crying out, lost in bliss as they push me over the edge.
I come back to myself slowly, gasping for breath. The echo of my cry bounces around the empty bathroom. Shit. Did I do that out loud? And did I really just make myself cum in their shower? What is wrong with me?
I quickly wash and climb out, shame burning through me as I towel off. Realizing I have no clean clothes in here, I wrap the towel securely around myself, wind my dirty clothes into a ball, and step out of the bathroom, steam billowing with me. Humiliation slams into me so hard I stumble backwards, catching myself on the bathroom door when I see I’m not alone.
Maddox stands in the doorway of their room, his muscular arms folded over his even more muscular chest, a smirk firmly in place as he watches me. “Hey, little girl,” he drawls. “Enjoying that showerhead, were you?”
“You—you scared me,” I manage.
“Nah,” he says. “I know what you look like when you’re scared, and this isn’t it. This is post-orgasm afterglow.”
“I—I wasn’t,” I blurt. “I was just showering off while I waited for my clothes.”
“Sure you were,” he says, pushing off the doorframe and prowling closer. “Or maybe you were fingering that tight little cunt, imagining what I would do to it if you weren’t such a good little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I say, swallowing hard but refusing to back up a step when he closes in on me until he’s only a step away. “I’m eighteen.”
He snorts. “In a month.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you know that?”
“You live inla olla,” he says, reaching out to finger the edge of my towel, his knuckles barely brushing the skin on my thigh. Even the barest touch makes my head swim. A smile plays on his lips, and his eyes shutter to half closed as he smirks down at me. “I know everything about you, little girl.”
“Everything?” I whisper, my skin heating as I remember his eyes on me as he pushed up to watch his brother’s cum melt over my spread pussy.
He tugs gently at the edge of the towel and leans down, the movement as smooth and hypnotizing as a snake. His hand rises to grip my jaw, and he moves my head to one side, angling his face in so his lips brush my ear.
“Everything except how you taste,” he whispers, his voice a deep masculine growl that sends blood coursing to my core and goosebumps cascading over every inch of my skin. His tongue slides out, dipping into my ear and flicking against my ear hole.
Chills explode through me, and I cringe down, giggling at the strange, ticklish sensation. “How my ear tastes?” I tease, rubbing it with my shoulder.
Maddox chuckles and releases my jaw, straightening to stare down at me again. “How your cunt tastes.”
The laughter dies on my lips, and I gulp down my nerves, searching his gaze. We stand there a moment, tension crackling in the air between us, every blood cell in my body blooming like a firework in the night sky on the Fourth of July.
“Maddox?” I whisper, my voice suddenly deserting me.
“Are you scared?”
I nod slowly, grateful I don’t have to answer aloud.
He chuckles and leans in, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Some other time, then,” he says. “Though if you keep coming over to finger yourself in my shower, I can’t promise I won’t come in next time and give you something to really moan about.”
Before I can answer, the washing machine beeps, and I escape down the hall. The washer and dryer are stacked in an alcove off the kitchen, and I can feel Maddox’s eyes on me, still watching as I switch the load over into the dryer and make small talk with Valeria. When I finish, Maddox gestures for me to follow and steps into their bedroom. I retrace my steps down the hall, wary of what I’ll find. But when I reach his room, he’s coming back with a pair of Adidas pants and an oversized Wampus Cat shirt with his number on the back.
“You sure you don’t mind lending me this?” I ask, picking up the shirt. “It looks like something important.”