Page 144 of There's No Us Without You
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been there for that—it feels so much more intimate than I realised.
Will leaves me at the side of his bed and disappears into the en suite.
Being in his room does something to my heart. It’s his way of letting me into his world, if only a little.
When he comes back out from the bathroom, he’s carrying a washcloth. “Open for me.”
I do as I’m told and open my legs so Will can run the warm, damp cloth over my aching vagina.
I wince at the sting, grabbing onto Will’s shoulders to steady myself.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, eyes searching mine. “It might be a bit tender for a day or two. You’ve probably overdone it a little, and I’m sorry for my part in that. I should have realised.” He rubs a hand over his face, then rests his forearms on the edge of the bed, hanging his head.
“Are you okay?” I run my hand through his soft hair.
Blowing out a breath, he glances up for a second. “I’m fine.” With a tight smile, he stands and disappears into the bathroom again.
While I wait for Will, I climb into the bed and pull the sheets up to my waist, not caring I’m still half naked.
Eyes closed, I sense Will before he climbs in next to me and tugs me to his side. “You did so good tonight. Get some sleep, you’ll need it.”
That sounds scary, but I’m too tired to ask what he means, instead letting my body sink further against Will’s warmth as a feeling of acceptance I’ve never experienced before washes over me.
I can be myself—no more hiding.
A few minutes later, Emerson climbs in on the other side of me, and throws a leg over mine when he snuggles against my back. His soft hair tickles my ear when he presses a kiss to my cheek.
“You’re ours now,” he whispers. “Forever.”
A soft smile creeps onto my lips as I let go completely and fall asleep sandwiched between the two men I’m realising I don’t want to live without.
FORTY
Will
I glanceat my phone sitting on the dining table next to me and tap the screen to check the time as I shove down a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast. Usually, I’d throw four eggs into a pan and scramble them in it, except I’ve learnt the error of my ways.
Eden caught me doing exactly that yesterday and threatened to stab me with a knife if I ever do it again.
Apparently, I’ve been doing it all wrong.
How the fuck can you fuck up scrambled eggs?
Anyway, she took over and when she placed a plate full of fluffy eggs in front of me, I almost fell to my knees at her feet.
Mine never turn out looking the way hers did. Eventually, I got the secret ingredients out of her—which aren’t very secret. It’s just eggs, butter, and salt.
Who knew I could elicit so much obedience with my fingers inside her?
I’m beginning to realise she’s an addiction. Then there’s Emerson.
It’s been two days.
Two days since I had my very first sexual encounter with them both.
And fuck, do I want more of it.
