Chapter 564 | Just Like Mommy Showed You

Chapter 564: 564 | Just Like Mommy Showed You

"Forty-three minutes." Sloane crossed her arms under her chest, which did things to the tank top that I was definitely not supposed to notice in front of her mother but absolutely did. "Forty-three minutes I sat there being the bigger person. I counted. Every single minute."

"Your patience is appreciated and noted."

"My patience is exhausted and you owe me." She looked at me. The bond between us pulsed warm, a mixture of jealousy and want and something softer underneath that she’d never admit out loud. "How many times?"

"What?"

"How many times did she make you come."

I glanced at Diane. Diane was watching this exchange with the expression of someone who’d known this conversation was coming and had made her peace with it approximately eleven days ago.

"Three," I said.

"Three." Sloane’s jaw tightened. The competitive edge I knew so well flared in her eyes. "In two hours and forty-three minutes."

"Time flies."

"Time flies when you’re busy ruining my mother’s sheets, apparently." She stalked closer to the bed, and the bond lit up with something hungry and possessive that had nothing to do with competition anymore. "Move over."

"Sloane," Diane said, but there wasn’t any actual objection in her voice.

"You got your time. Now I get mine. And I’m not leaving just because you’re tired." Sloane climbed onto the bed, knee between my legs, and looked down at me with an expression I’d seen exactly once before, the night the three of us had first done this. "Fair’s fair."

"Is that what this is? Fair?"

"This is me being done waiting." She leaned down and kissed me hard enough to taste, her tongue sliding against mine, her body pressing into me with the weight of someone who’d spent two hours and forty-three minutes imagining exactly this.

The bond flooded open between us. I felt everything she’d been suppressing, the jealousy and the want and the desperate need to confirm I was real, and underneath all of it the same fear that had lived in Diane’s eyes, the same counting of breaths, the same terrible certainty that she’d almost lost something she couldn’t bear to lose.

When she pulled back we were both breathing hard.

"I’m not done with you," Diane said from beside us. Her voice had recovered some of its usual smoothness, but her eyes were dark as they watched Sloane straddle my hips. "I hope you realize that, sugar. I’m just resting."

"You’ve been resting for forty-three minutes."

"Recovery takes time at my age."

"You don’t have an age. You have an Aspect that makes aging irrelevant."

"Semantics."

Sloane rolled her hips against me and I felt myself stir again. Her eyes went wide when she felt it.

"Already?"

"I heal fast. Remember?"

"I remember you almost dying and now I remember you getting hard again thirty seconds after I touched you." She ground down again, slow, and the thin fabric of her shorts did nothing to hide how wet she already was. "That’s unfair."

"Life’s unfair. You’ve met your mother."

"I’ve met my mother and I’ve spent the last two hours and forty-three minutes listening to her enjoy something I’ve been wanting all day, so excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly patient anymore."

She reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head in one motion. No bra. Her breasts were smaller than Diane’s, but they were perfect, pink nipples already hard, and I’d spent enough time learning exactly how she liked them touched that my hands moved before I consciously decided to move them.

Sloane gasped when my thumbs brushed her nipples. The bond spiked with pleasure that I felt echo back through me.

"You’re supposed to ask first," she said, but she was arching into my touch.

"You’re supposed to wait your turn."

"I waited. I’m done waiting. Now I want—" She broke off with a moan as I pinched lightly, exactly the way I knew she liked. "I want you to stop being difficult and just—"

"Just what?"

"Just fuck me already!"

Diane made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something else entirely. When I looked over she’d propped herself up on one elbow, watching us with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

"Don’t mind me," she said. "I’m just observing."

"You’re being weird."

"I’m being patient. There’s a difference, and one of us in this room should model it." She reached out and trailed her fingers down Sloane’s spine, and Sloane shivered at the touch. "Though I have to admit, the view from here is quite something."

"Mom."

"What? It is." Diane’s hand settled on Sloane’s hip, right above where she was grinding against me. "You’re beautiful when you’re desperate. You get that from me."

The bond did something complicated, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal and something like pride that Sloane would absolutely deny feeling if I ever mentioned it. I filed that information away for later.

Sloane reached down between us, shoved her shorts aside, and sank down onto me in one smooth motion.

We both groaned.

She was tight, always was, and the heat of her around me after everything with Diane felt like coming home to something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. The bond opened completely between us, pleasure feeding pleasure in a closed loop that made my vision blur at the edges.

"Finally," Sloane breathed. Her hands braced on my chest. Her hips started to move. "Finally, finally, you’re mine now, you’re—"

"I’ve been yours."

"You were hers for two hours and forty-three minutes."

"Time’s flexible."

"Time’s—" She clenched around me and I thrust up into her and whatever she’d been about to say dissolved into a moan. "Shut up. Stop talking. Just—"

Diane’s hand was still on Sloane’s hip. I watched her fingers tighten, guiding the rhythm, and something about that visual hit me harder than it had any right to.

"You’re doing so well, sweetheart," Diane murmured. Her other hand came up to cup Sloane’s breast, thumb circling her nipple. "Taking him so well. Just like mommy showed you."

This was going to be a long night.

I had absolutely no complaints about that.