Three Demons Ch. 07

He rushed to one side and I to the other, but he doubled back and I had to withdraw to square one. I feigned going one side and went the other, but he was too fast for me to get past him. "I will catch you," he promised, "And when I do, I'm going to make you scream."

I was sweating from the chase, panting as well. The feel of his muscles when I was under him, the way he hungrily looked at me like I was his next meal, it excited me. I could feel the heat in my belly, but dismissed it as adrenaline. He started going around the table when I made no move and I waited until he was close enough for me to make a run for it. At the last minute, I pushed at the table when he was in the opportune location and it hit him in his side. He paused to hiss is pain and grip his aching hip, while I used the moment to run for the bathroom. As I passed by my room, I saw Felix laying comfortably on the bed and wondered to myself why I hadn't thought of going there instead.

Because I slowed to think about that, when I reached the bathroom door Oliver had caught up to me and grabbed me. I squealed with delight, but it was clouded with the fear of being tickled once again. He picked me up and closed the door, locking it too, to stall me if I wanted to leave again. He started tickling me on the floor and I cried out, screwing my eyes shut to endure the tingling of my nerves as I laughed helplessly. I started kicking, and he got pushed into the door by my feet. He laughed, with a hint of a growl, grabbing my ankles and lifting me off the floor with them. He threw them onto his back so that I was hanging off his shoulders by my knees, gripping my thighs to secure me in place while I whooped and wailed excitedly. He opened the shower door and closed it behind us, before leaning in to pull me up and push me against the wall.

My back flat against the wall, high up, I was sitting on his shoulders with his face between my legs. His strong hands were holding the outside of my thighs, close to my ass. My panting started to slow into a collection of deep sighs, his breathing slowed the same way. He watched me as we calmed down, watched my reaction as I started to realize that he had deliberately placed us in this situation. I couldn't deny that being in such a risque position after the play chase we had was exciting to me. The longer he stared, with his boyish grin fading into a sultrier expression, the more my body reacted. My cunt started throbbing against my will, defiant in my orders to calm.

I started to squirm, trying to be as subtle as possible. Trying to make it look like I was adjusting myself to be more comfortable. But his eyes broke away from mine and he stared straight ahead at the spot just between my thighs. I slipped my fingers in his auburn hair, tugging at the strands so he'd look up at me. I tried to plead with my eyes for him not to continue, but my tongue was silent as I was too weak of will to verbally deny him. He kept his gaze level with mine as he leaned in and kissed my clothed cunt, going so far as to push his tongue against the fabric so I could feel his intent past the clothing I wore. My back arched in reaction and I closed my eyes as I moaned.

I didn't feel pressure on my body from his mouth any longer but felt his hands shift underneath me. I looked down and saw he was he was holding me up with one hand, which was very impressive as I was a healthy girl, and with the other he was pulling the cloth protecting my decency to the side. "Wait-" I begged. But before I had another moment to finish what I was saying, his tongue was suddenly sliding against my lips. I squirmed against him, grabbing a handful of his hair in urgency. He continued to skate his tongue on my lips, actively avoiding my clit to, I'm assuming, tease me. His skin was cool to the touch but his mouth contrasted with incredible warmth. His beard was soft against my sensitive skin, yet the hard contrast of his cool teeth against my most sensitive parts drove me over the edge. He was gentle with me, playful even. Expertly pleasing with his mouth, he finally gave me what I wanted when the tip of his tongue met my hypersensitive clit.

I cried out as his tongue started to move back and forth on my clit at an impossible speed. He didn't move his head at all to aid in the stimulation, which was as astonishing as the rate. His tongue was the only thing moving. My thighs squeezed around his neck as I squirmed and he growled against me. "Oh fuck," I whimpered. He pulled his face away and I saw the lower half of it was slick with my desire. I felt a pulsating throb from my clit at the sight of him, gasping as a reaction to it. He started trying to pull my shorts off but almost dropped me in the midst of it. He huffed his frustration, staring quizzically at my shorts before coming to a decision. He held me with his hands by my waist and used his teeth to pull my short off my hips. I was impressed immensely by his strength and he never faltered at keeping me up. Once my shorts were low enough on my legs for me to kick them off, he focused on my panties.

I suddenly became self-conscious. I was wearing a pair of brown cotton hipsters, nothing sexy or made of lace. My hands dropped to cover my crotch, hoping to shield his eyes from the obscenity of my underwear. He huffed at me and said, "Remove your hands."

I whimpered, "But its embarrassing." His jaw visibly tightened as he looked at me. Then he leaned in and bit my hand just hard enough to sting. "Ow!" I cried, "What are you, an animal?"

He chuckled darkly and said, "You have no idea." He leaned in once more, mimicking his trick with my shorts to remove my panties until I was bare to him. It was at this moment that I was beyond grateful that I had recently acquired an electric hair trimmer for my lady bits and made use of it in a timely manner.

He dove right in, repeating his methods before, starting with the pleasure of my clit. My body was slowly humming its approval as my nerves progressively built their satisfaction. But then he surprised me. He subtly shifted under me, supporting my body's weight with an arm to keep one of his hands free and what he did with that hand blew my mind. He first teased my cunt with just the tip of his fingers, caressing the outside of my hole as he continued the merciless onslaught of his tongue. He was slow, hesitant even with his fingers. Then he started to touch just the past the opening, gently massaging in circles. Then, finally, he slipped one finger in. It was longer and thicker than my fingers and I enjoyed the feel of it immensely. He started to slowly fuck me with a singular digit, just a simple in-and-out motion, keeping a constant pace. I enjoyed it nonetheless. I didn't know when I would come from the stimulation, but it didn't matter. The pleasure of this alone, even without a building sensation, was more than I could ask for.

But it seemed he had other plans. His tongue never faltered at its rhythmic flicking, he never turned his head or gave his jaw a break. He gave no indication that he would stop what he was doing to start something more. And that's what made the act of his slipping a second finger into me such a pleasant surprise. He continued the simple in-and-out motion of before at first, but after a few minutes he twisted his wrist so that his palm was to the ceiling. Yet he was ever the tease, simply rubbing up top and nothing more. "Oliver, I want it," I begged.

He pulled away momentarily to growl, "Oh, I know, my love."

"Please, make me come," I begged in the most needy and submissive voice I could muster.

He moaned against me and, as a result, his tongue vibrated. I suddenly felt the familiarity of an orgasm's hint. And at that opportune moment, he decided to massage up top of the inside of my cunt in a "come hither" motion. My grip in his hair became almost violent as I came in his mouth. I was ultimately unsure if it was a clitoral orgasm, a vaginal one, or both. I gave a loud, sharp cry of delight before falling limp against him. He continued to support me, gently lowering me down the wall and onto the shower bench.

I watched as he wiped his mouth on his forearm and smiled sweetly at me. "You alright there, Freya?" he asked, chuckling and obviously proud of himself. I was panting hard from the aftermath, never satisfied with the amount of air entering my lungs. The beating of my heart was loud in my ears and my head felt heavy, as though I was in dire need of a nap. "What a naughty thing you are," he said, smirking at me as he stood up. When he stood, it came to my attention that his crotch was just a foot away from my face. A bulge was clearly outlined in his trousers and it was just the right size from what I could tell. But then I heard a wet, sloppy sound and looked up to see him licking and sucking on his fingers. "Tasty too," he remarked darkly.

How he could even think coherently after an event such as the one that had just passed was beyond me. It was rather annoying how unaffected he was by our little encounter and it infuriated me that a pillow fight could turn into this mess. I decided to get back at him, give him a taste of his own medicine. I stood up and took hold of the collar of his shirt, sitting him down on the shower bench, knowing fully well that I only handled him because he consented it. I got on my knees before him. He smirked at me, his dimples denting his bearded cheeks. "Does your depravity ever end?" he teased.

"Make another comment and I'll bite you," I warned, undoing his pants with first the button and then the zipper. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his pants and just before I got the chance to tug his trousers down he grabbed my wrists and leaned in.

"Bite me and your tush will be dawning purple come morning," he threatened.

I shivered, excited at the prospect. He let go of my wrists once he saw the mischievous smile on my lips. He licked his bottom lip and started to undue his dress shirt slowly like it was a striptease. I stood frozen and watched him. He was deliberately slow at his task, rubbing at his neck every once in a while as though he was doing some strenuous activity. I couldn't help but smile to myself, a little surprised that Oliver had a side like this to him. When the last button came undone under the influence of his fingers and the observation of my keen eyes, he slowly tugged the ends of his shirt opposite each other to expose his chest and front to me. He was bigger than Erik, his shoulders were wider but his waist was about the same width. His chest was pleasantly taut, his core a set of four. His arms weren't as daunting as his shoulders, but there was no way I'd ever doubt their strength after he held me against the wall for who knows how long.

He shrugged the dress shirt off, folding it and placing it beside him on the bench, to my surprise. I helped him tug his jeans off his hips and down his legs, he kicks off his shoes, and once his trousers are off I pull away each sock from his feet. I hand the clothing to him and he neatly folds it, placing each item on top of the dress shirt beside him on the bench. I chuckle at his quirkiness but, at the same time, appreciate the amount of care he extends to his belongings. He slides his thumbs under the waist of his boxers and I push his hands away, tutting him like a little kid. He smirks at my attitude, though he's puzzled at my hesitation. Then his eyes go wide when I lean in and fondle him through the fabric of his boxers with my tongue just as he did earlier to me.

He exhales harshly, apparently not as patient when being teased as he expects others to be. When I looked up at him, he was quite obviously enjoying himself. I pulled away and was about to pull his boxers off his person but he quickly beat me to it and his lower half was as exposed as the top half in a blink of my eyes. I chuckle to myself at his enthusiasm as I lean forward again and begin to examine his cock. In appearance, it reminded me of an extra long bullet. His shaft was evenly proportioned from tip to base. The head was rounded and a pale pink in color to match his pretty lips. It was a few inches longer than the distance between my wrist and the tip of my middle finger. In truth, it was plenty, if not a little intimidating. But I hid my hesitation as I didn't want to discourage him. On the inside, I was freaking out.

He gasped quietly and swallowed as I took hold of it in my hand. It felt like a pulsating iron beam covered in slightly clammy silk. I just held it for a while, feeling its weight, observing it. I slid my fingertips along the bottom of his shaft and looked up into his eyes when I heard him exhale. "Do you like how that feels?" I asked with a grin.

He exhaled forcefully, in a laugh. "Yeah," he said.

"That's good," I murmured, shifting my gaze back to the object in my hand. I removed my hand momentarily to lick the palm, before spreading the wetness around the head. He gasped and I couldn't help but smile when I saw his excitement bead at the eye of his cock. I started spreading that, in addition to my saliva, thoroughly lubricating all the way to the base of his shaft. I wrapped my fingers around him in a snug grip before taking a tug. He groaned as I started to jerk him off.

He kept groaning and gasping as I continued to tease him with my hand, his voice getting deeper and more primal until it started to sound like a frustrated growl. He wanted more, I knew that. Watching him struggle was so much more entertaining than giving him what he wanted though. "How bad do you want to fuck my mouth?" I asked, a mischievous smile on my face.

He bit his lip and laughed bitterly. "You know what you're doing, don't you?" He asked, just before his brows knit and his mouth formed an "o" as I picked up the pace.

"Would you prefer me to be innocent?" I asked, licking my unoccupied hand before adding it to my task.

He gripped the edge of the shower bench, his knuckles turning white. "I prefer you as you are."

"That's what I thought," I chuckled, twisting both my hands on him. He moaned for the first time and that got me excited. It was such a nice sound, deep and throaty with just the right amount of a whimper to it. He screwed his eyes shut and his body tensed. "Look at me, Oliver," I said, softly. He opened his eyes at once. "How would you like to feel my lips on you? Or my tongue?" I breathed, licking my lips to sell it. His cock was throbbing - he was close, I could feel it.

"Bad," he admitted, before exhaling hard.

I bit my lip and smiled. "Come for me," I said, hoping my smile was as sultry as I intended.

His chest rose and fell as he started to pant. He kept his eyes locked on mine as I milked him to satisfaction. His hips tensed, his eyes screwed shut, and he cried out when he came. His mess shot out and landed onto my neck, feeling warm and gooey. I giggled as he started to descend from the high, flattered at the impact I had. I pulled my underwear and shorts back on, promising to clean myself up later. He muttered, "Oh, fuck," just as I opened the glass door and stepped out of the shower. I walked up to the vanity, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair looked silky, if a little frizzed, and my skin glowed; it seemed sexual pleasure agreed with me. I bent over to wash the come off my neck and out of the hair that was affected. He stepped out of the shower, now fully clothed and standing behind me, looking at me through the mirror. "You can't deny that my tickling is very effective," he said, with his hands in his jean pockets, a little smirk on his face.

I snorted. "You probably planned the entire thing," I joked.

He shrugged. "Maybe," he said. He leaned forward and studied my neck. "It's too bad you didn't get to taste me," he casually mentioned.

"Oh?" I asked with a knowing smile, "Maybe for you."

"You missed a spot," he said, wiping some come off my neck with his fingers. He turned around for a moment, I could see the towels behind shifted just around the reflection of his back in the mirror. I stood up once I'd finished and turned off the faucet. There was a hand towel hanging on a rack by the mirror, I grabbed it and started patting my neck dry. He turned back around, silently watching me. Once my neck was dry, I turned around to face him. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me onto the top of the vanity, just off the edge of the sink.

"What are you doing?" I asked, playfully. He only smiled at me, not saying a word, and kissed me. I slid my hands in his hair and licked at his closed lips, seeking entrance. He parted them to give passage and when our tongues met I tasted something just a tad salty and dense in texture. My eyes popped open in surprise when I realized I was tasting come, his come. I pulled away, swallowing what he gave me. He dawned a smirk. I slowly wiped at the corner of my lips with my thumb. "You're a sneaky thing," I teased, "Clever too."

"Like a fox," he offered.

"Yeah, sure," I laughed in agreement. "You know," I began, "it really is funny how this all began. With us cleaning..."

His expression darkened with worry at my silence. "Freya?"

"Erik," I whispered.

"What?"

"Oliver, you can't tell Erik about this. Please don't tell Everett either."

"Why not?" he asked. But I was silent. I didn't want to verbalize it, that would give it power. I didn't want him to know that it was because I wanted Erik the same way I wanted him. That I still wanted to know what it was like to be with Everett. It was too screwed up. How could I explain the betrayal of my actions? I was leading Erik on while engaging in deviance with Oliver, all while still pining after Everett. They were friends. I was just a girl they'd taken in in good faith. How could I even begin to make this okay? Something about the way my eyes pleaded him exposed me. "You want us all," he said, with final realization.

"No," I whimpered, looking away and trying to hide my face and my shame behind my hair.

Gentle arms cradled me in the kindest and most welcome of embraces. He cooed in my ear and ushered my head to rest against his warm, taut chest. "Don't be ashamed around me, hon," he said, "I will be the last person to judge you."

"But its disgusting," I protested, my eyes pooling. "I'm not like this. I don't know what's wrong with me, I-I'm not a whore."

"No, you're not," he said, in a voice like steel. He placed his strong hands on either side of my face and turned my head so I'd look up at him. "There is nothing wrong with you. What you feel is natural. It doesn't seem that way because of the way this society has raised you, but its in your DNA."

My eyebrows pushed together in my confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I know it doesn't make sense," he commended, one hand on the back of my neck in a reassuring stability while the fingers of the other soothed me with sweet caresses on my cheek. "We'll talk more about it another day, just know now that your secret is safe with me for as long as you want and that I am completely accepting and encouraging that you pursue both Erik and Everett in addition to me."

"You're right, that doesn't make sense," I said with a laugh.

He smiled and kissed my forehead tenderly. "It doesn't matter if it does. Its supposed to be this way, like fate. Just know that you can trust me."

"I do trust you," I said, speaking truth. And I did trust him. I had opened up to him about something that had been weighing on my chest since the moment I met them and he reassured me that there was nothing bad about what I was feeling. I just didn't know if Erik and Everett would be as forgiving.

"Lets go watch some TV on the couch, yeah?" he suggested. I nodded in agreement and he wrapped an arm around me as we walked toward the living room.

I sat on the sofa and he lounged in his usual spot: the armchair. He picked up the TV remote from the coffee table and with a flick of his thumb the screen before us turned on to an episode about some bald man making meth. Which reminds me. "Why does Erik have cat drugs in his room?"