The sound that comes out of my mouth when I come is something so foreign that I don’t recognize it as me. His grip on my hand increases, but I willingly squeeze his erection as though it’s the only thing preventing me from falling. I feel the smile of the man whose mouth is over my nipple and a swift exhale of cool air against my sensitized clit that feels a lot like relief.
Relief he got me off.
What he doesn’t know is that I’m relieved too. So relieved that hot, stupid tears spring to my eyes.
I thought I was broken. Simon, the last asshole I let between my legs, hinted as much. At first, he tried hard to get me to orgasm. After a couple of failed attempts, his attention became cursory at best. A few licks so he wouldn’t feel like such an asshole for fucking me just for his pleasure.
Now I know it wasn’t me. It was him.
My body is capable of the ultimate release.
I’m capable of letting every annoying, tension-inspiring part of my life drop away so that I can float on a helium balloon of pleasure, and that knowledge feels like freedom.
A tear escapes my eye and rolls down the side of my nose beneath the blindfold- a cool line of realization - and I feel so stupidly grateful that my chest hitches with a sob.
All around me in the darkness is silence. Surprised or shocked? I’m not sure.
Then, before any of us can say a word, there’s a loud knock on the door.
“That’s it, Ellie. Times up.”
Dornan’s voice is booming and amused, and within the blackness around me , three men inhale in a rush.
The man behind me drops my hand like it is scolding him. The hem of my dress is tugged down, and the top is pulled up as though they’re hurriedly packing me away.
Dornan rattles the door handle. “It’s not eight minutes in heaven, guys. Wrap it up. I need my girl back to party with.”
Pulling away, I yank at the blindfold and stumble past the man at my feet, the one at my back, and the one looming to my right, fumbling for the door handle and shoving it open. The light in the room wasn’t bright when I left, but it seems bright now. For a second, my eyes don’t work, and I turn back to the closet, searching for the welcomed darkness. That’s when I see just the flash of a hand in the gloom before Dornan slams the closet door shut.
A hand with a familiar tattoo of a lion with a huge shaggy main. A tattoo that graces the skin of my stepbrother.
3
COLBY
My head pounds with a headache that most people would assume was alcohol induced, but I know differently. I don’t get hangovers. I don’t do weaknesses. I’m a man who handles his business and maintains control, even under the influence of mind-altering substances.
No, my headache is Ellie induced.
And Sebastian induced. And Micky doesn’t get off scot-free. He’s the idiot that dragged me into that fucking closet. Admittedly, he didn’t know Ellie would be the one who stumbled into Sex Fest 2022. I know that for sure. I was the only one who knew Ellie had arrived at the party, and she was supposed to be in the den. Micky had his eyes on Alexandra from his business class. The same Alexandra who spent the last two months asking him a million questions about what it’s like to be an identical triplet. Like any of us know any different.
My brothers have been around since before I was even conscious of myself. They are such an intrinsic part of me. I sometimes feel it when they hurt themselves.
Micky was convinced Alexandra wanted to know what it’s like to get between identical triplets. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. For some reason, it’s a popular fetish, one that we’ve mostly been happy to indulge. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get involved in that kind of kinky fuckery.
Stupid high school games should be relegated to high school, not dragged into our college years, where we should always have our wits about us when it comes to sex.
Ellie has the same length of hair as Alexandra. She’s roughly the same height and build too. Who the fuck would have known the difference in the silent darkness of the closet?
I didn’t recognize her whimpers. She’s our stepsister, for fuck’s sake. That’s not the kind of thing any self-respecting stepbrother would know about the girl who lives across the hall.
I’m not a creep. I don’t hang outside her door listening for that shit.
As far as I’m concerned, Ellie’s sex life is her own business.
At least, that’s how I felt before last night.
Before I rested my lips on her neck and felt her tremble. Before I breathed in the soft floral scent of her warm skin, forced her little hand to my cock and felt that hint of eagerness to explore.