Chapter 229: 229 | Sandwich Filling
Belle pulled off my dick again, gasping. "This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some shit."
"Back to work," I ordered, my voice coming out rougher than intended.
Belle laughed, low and dirty. "Bossy this morning, aren’t you?"
"You started this."
"Fair." She licked the underside of my shaft, base to tip, her tongue following the prominent vein. "But I’m finishing it too."
She took me back in her mouth, and this time she went deep. All the way down until her nose pressed against my pelvis. I felt the head of my cock hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed around me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My hips bucked involuntarily. Belle didn’t gag. She just held me there, her throat working, her eyes watering slightly but still locked on mine.
"Belle," I warned, feeling my control slipping.
She pulled off slowly, gasping for air. "Yeah?"
"I’m close."
"Good." She wrapped one hand around my base, jacking me while her mouth focused on the tip. "Come for me. I want to taste it."
Beside me, Naomi made a strangled sound. Her hand moved faster between her legs, her hips rolling slightly.
The sight of both of them, Belle with her mouth on my dick and Naomi touching herself while watching, shattered my composure completely.
"Belle, I’m—"
She sucked harder, her hand pumping, and I came. Hard. My vision whited out for a second as pleasure ripped through me. Belle swallowed every drop, moaning like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. The chocolate flavor I’d layered onto my precum mixed with the actual taste of my release, and she drank it all down greedily.
When I finally stopped pulsing, Belle pulled off and licked her lips like she’d just sampled something expensive. Her tongue swept across her bottom lip, catching the last traces.
"Chocolate and strawberry semen," she said, shaking her head. "You’re fucking ridiculous."
"You’re welcome."
Naomi leaned over and kissed me, her hand still working frantically between her legs. I could feel her body tensing beside me, every muscle tight and trembling. She was close. So close.
"Let me," I said against her mouth, reaching down.
I replaced her hand with mine, sliding two fingers inside her while my thumb found her clit. The heat was incredible. She was soaked, absolutely dripping, her body responding to every small movement I made. Her inner walls clenched around my fingers immediately, already primed from watching Belle swallow my load.
"Jace," she gasped, breaking the kiss.
"I’ve got you," I murmured, curling my fingers to hit that spot inside her that made her thighs shake.
Her forehead dropped to my shoulder, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts against my skin. I kept the pressure steady, consistent, exactly how she needed it.
I worked her with the same rhythm she’d been using on herself, and it took less than thirty seconds before she came, clenching around my fingers and crying out against my shoulder. I held her through it, feeling her pulse and shake.
Belle flopped onto the bed beside us with a satisfied groan, her chest still rising and falling fast. "Now that’s how you start a morning."
"You’re fucking nuts," I said between breaths.
"And you love every second of it."
I didn’t bother denying it.
Naomi lifted her head from my shoulder, her cheeks still pink and her expression dazed in that post-orgasm way. "We need to shower. The bus is at ten."
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 8:47. Misato would start her search-and-destroy routine within the hour.
"Why don’t we all just shower together?" Belle was already on her feet, rolling her shoulders like an athlete after a workout. Her body looked like a crime scene, dark purple marks scattered across her hips and the inside of her thighs where I’d bitten down too hard last night.
Naomi paused, torn between modesty and practicality. But I saw the flicker of curiosity cross her face before she looked away.
"Come on." Belle reached down and hauled Naomi to her feet. "We’ve already done every other filthy thing imaginable. This is just efficient."
The hotel bathroom was laughably inadequate for three bodies. Belle twisted the faucet and stepped under the spray first, sighing as lukewarm water hit her shoulders.
"This pressure is garbage compared to campus," she complained.
"Everything’s garbage compared to campus," I pointed out, climbing in behind her. "That’s what happens when you attend an academy with unlimited funding."
Naomi squeezed in last, pressing against my back. The space was cramped and ridiculous. Belle’s ass pressed against my thighs, Naomi’s breasts soft against my back. Water cascaded over all of us in a chaotic mess.
Belle grabbed the complimentary hotel soap and started washing herself, completely unbothered by the proximity. Naomi reached around me for the shampoo, her arms circling my waist as she stretched.
I stood there like a sandwich filling, wondering how my life had become this specific brand of absurd.
"You’re thinking too loud," Belle said, glancing back at me.
"I’m thinking about how we’re going to explain why all three of us smell like the same hotel soap."
"We won’t." Belle rinsed her hair. "Jordan’s too hungover to notice anything, and Misato already knows we’re sleeping together."
"She knows about you and me," I corrected. "She doesn’t know about the group situation."
Belle turned fully, water running down between her breasts. "Misato knows everything. She just pretends she doesn’t because it’s easier that way."
Naomi grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, her hands working shampoo into my hair with gentle pressure. The intimacy of it hit me weird. This wasn’t sexual. Just domestic. Comfortable.
Dangerous.
I closed my eyes and let her work, filing away the feeling for later analysis when my brain wasn’t operating on four hours of sleep and post-threesome endorphins.
When we finally emerged from the bathroom, somewhat cleaner and significantly more awake, Belle announced she was stealing one of my new shirts because she’d packed like an idiot and all her clothes were covered in swamp gunk and frog acid. She grabbed the grey henley Aurora had picked out and pulled it on. It hung to mid-thigh on her, completely swallowing her frame.
"This is mine now," she declared.
"That was eighty credits."
"Bill me."
Naomi, wrapped in a towel, smiled at us from the bathroom door. "You two fight like an old married couple."
Belle threw a pillow at her. "We do not."
"You absolutely do," I confirmed.
