Chapter 374: The Offering 9

Something in her chest tightened, and it had nothing to do with jealousy. She dropped her hips, once, twice, a third time, and the pressure inside her tipped over.

She came with her mouth open and no sound at all.

Her inner muscles clamped down on him in long, hard pulses, and her nails dug crescents into his stomach.

Her whole body bowed forward, shuddering.

She stayed there, full and shaking, until the pulses slowed.

A hand smacked her thigh. Twice, hard.

The warning was in the hand, because Lor’s mouth was full. Olivia’s eyes snapped open.

She was still shaking, and everything in her wanted to stay exactly where she was.

For one second she did not move.

Everything below her navel was still pulsing. She could feel the thick heat of him inside her, the way her body kept trying to pull him deeper even while his hand came down on her thigh a second time, harder.

She could stay. He was warm and heavy and he would fill her, and nobody in this room would say a word about it.

His hand smacked her thigh again, harder.

Her mind snapped off from the daze, she realized that he was about to cum.

She lifted off him.

It was clumsy.

His cock dragged out of her wet and heavy, and she caught it in both fists before it could slap against his stomach.

Her legs were shaking hard enough that her knees knocked against his.

She stroked him twice, tight and fast, and the second stroke was enough.

He arched under her with a low groan that Lia’s thighs muffled.

Thick pulses hit her stomach first, then her ribs, then went wide across the quilt.

One streak caught Sophia’s cheek and started to run toward her ear. Another landed on the back of Lia’s thigh and began to slide down the curve of it.

Olivia kept her hands moving until he was empty, then for a few seconds longer because her fingers would not unclench.

Some of it ran between her knuckles and dripped onto his stomach in a thin line.

The rest stayed on her skin, already starting to cool.

The room went quiet except for breathing.

Lia climbed off his face.

She wiped her thigh with the back of her wrist, looked at the smear she had just moved, and made a short, surprised sound. A thin string of it stretched between her wrist and her thigh before it broke. "That’s a lot."

Sophia was still half-draped over his ribs.

She touched the drop on her cheekbone with one finger, then rubbed it between thumb and forefinger, testing how thick it was.

It stuck to her skin and pulled when she separated her fingers. "It’s sticky and most of it is on the quilt."

Olivia stayed where she was for a moment, sitting on his hips with her hands open in her lap.

She could feel the residual stretch between her legs, the way her body had not quite closed again.

A thin string of her own wetness stretched from her to his thigh and broke when she shifted. She did not look at anyone when she spoke.

"I think this should be enough for the Light."

Lia’s mouth twitched. "Obviously."

Lor lay flat under all three of them, shirt shoved up, and did not move. He was still catching his breath. His stomach was wet. His face was wet.

He decided this was the best morning he could remember, and then he decided not to say that out loud.

Olivia climbed off him in pieces.

One knee, then the other, then a foot on the floor.

Her legs nearly gave when she stood. She caught the bedpost and straightened before anyone could comment.

Another thin string of wet stretched between her thigh and his skin and broke. She felt it snap against her.

She did not look down at it. Her thighs were slick to the knee. Every step she took made the cooling streaks on her stomach and ribs pull and stick.

"My offering is finished," she said. "I am going to clean up."

"Your offering," Lia repeated. She was still on her knees on the quilt, looking at the mess on Olivia’s stomach.

"Yes."

"That’s what we’re calling it."

"The Light asked to be pleased. It has been pleased." Olivia’s voice stayed even. "Where are the towels?"

"Hall cupboard or in the wardrobe outside the bathroom."

Olivia nodded.

She walked to the door without rushing and without looking back.

The click when it closed was small and very clear.

In the hallway she made it six steps before she had to put a hand on the wall.

Her thighs were slick to the knee. A line of his cum had run from her ribs down to her hip and was already starting to cool and stick.

Her legs were still unsteady.

She stood there and waited for the shaking to ease, one palm flat against the plaster, breathing through her mouth.

She could smell herself and him both.

The air in the hallway felt cooler than the bedroom. Every small movement made the drying streaks on her skin tug.

She had ridden him in front of both of them.

She had cum with such an embarrassing face and then finished him with her hands while she was still shaking.

Sophia had watched the whole thing. Lia had grinned. Neither of them had looked away. She could still feel the shape of him inside her even though he was no longer there.

The stretch had not fully eased. Her thighs kept trembling when she tried to straighten them.

You were supposed to be the sensible one.

The bathroom was the second door. She locked it, turned the water hot, and only then looked in the mirror.

Her face was flushed to the ears. A strand of hair was stuck to her cheek where Lia’s fingers had been.

There was a smear of him on her collarbone that she had not noticed.

She stared at herself for a moment, then stepped under the water and rested her forehead against the tile.

The worst part was that she already wanted to do it again.