Page 84 of The Devil's Daughter

Our energy is flagging, though, and so is our control. Our bodies want what they want, and all three of us are too tired now not to surrender. It’s crazy how fast it happens after how long we’ve been at it, yet it still feels like another eternity suspended between them when all three of us climax together.

Baz stumbles back, nearly crashing through the glass door before righting himself with a laugh. “Good thing Drake wasn’t here, or we’d have destroyed his shower.”

I start to clean myself, but they stop me a little too eagerly. Ben drops to his knees, and Baz gives him a squirt of soap so he can lather up my legs, gently working the suds through my folds while his brother washes between my ass cheeks.

“Spread your legs,” Ben says gruffly.

I brace my hands on the wet, tiled wall in front of me and widen my stance, leaning forward. Their fingers are no longer making business-like scrubbing motions, but have turned into slow, exploratory caresses.

Groaning, I say, “I don’t think I can come again. I definitely don’t think I can fuck you again for at least a day.”

“It’s okay. This is for you,” Ben says, leaning forward and kissing the crest of my hip.

He strokes my clit and I hang my head, panting through the pleasure. Behind me, Baz begins teasing my asshole. I’m a little sore, but not so much that I want him to stop. The soap doesn’t even sting; it tingles a little when he pushes a finger into me, but that’s it.

It isn’t until Ben latches onto my nipple that I lose it, crumbling swiftly and completely and nearly losing my ability to stand. I’m amazed that he could even bring me over again after everything, but my body responds so perfectly to them both.

We all rinse and step out for towels, then fall into bed naked after we dry off. The decadence of being comfortably lodged between them feels sinful, but we’re all too spent now to try anything else.

I’m only half-aware of Drake’s arrival. The shower comes on and runs for several minutes, then he enters the room in nothing but a towel, which he drops before climbing into bed behind Ben.

“I love you,” I whisper to the room, my heart soaring when a chorus of “I love you toos” answers.

The next fewdays are like living in a dream. We don’t bother with work or the outside world at all. Drake already let his secretary know he was taking time off, and that he’d approved my time off too. And since the twins work for him, they’re still technically on the job.

The weather gets colder, which encourages longer mornings in bed enjoying each other’s company, but we also have several long nights up on deck around the gas fireplace, simply talking. It turns out I know more about the twins than I thought, but they still surprise me. I lost touch with them after graduation, so the years they spent under my father’s tutelage are a mystery.

We make love every chance we get, and with a smaller crew on the yacht, we worry less about other people interrupting us. But the lack of care we take at sticking to the bedroom does have its risks.

On the third day, we’ve just come in from the pool and are scrounging for snacks in the galley when Baz opens the fridge and discovers that night’s dessert of chocolate mousse the chef has prepared in advance. Needless to say, all three guys get ideas, and the next thing I know, Drake’s dipping fingers into one small dish of the dessert and coming at me with it. We’re all still in our swimsuits, and my top is soon half-off with a chocolatey dollop coating one nipple and Drake about to lick it off.

I’m just relieved the guys haven’t managed to get me fully undressed by the time the captain walks in—then promptly pivots and walks back out.

Later that afternoon, I head up to the bridge deck and find Theo at the helm, gazing at the horizon. The creases beside his eyes and mouth deepen when he smiles, but I don’t see any hint of judgment, which is a relief.

“Ms. Santos,” he says by way of greeting, giving me a small, formal nod.

“Hi,” I answer with a little wave. “Please call me Elle. You may as well, after what you saw.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I didn’t see anything but the boy I think of as a son finding happiness for the first time in his life.”

“Still, I want to apologize… for all of us. I realize theBrizois technically your home. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and I really hope you don’t keep that one, for Drake’s sake. But I might suggest a few places I’m less likely to wander into. The game room and the theater are good options. Basically anywhere but here, the galley, and the engine room.”

“There’s a theater?” I ask, eyebrows shooting up. “I admit I still need to do some exploring of this boat.”

I knew about the game room, at least. The night after the gala, we unwound there with a game of pool until Baz and Ben discovered a cabinet containing a few different gaming consoles. The four of us spent the rest of the evening trying to kill each other in virtual fantasy worlds.

“Yes. That’s not to say I don’t love films, but I prefer to watch them in my bunk.”

“Not in here?” I ask, pointing to one of half-dozen different screens arrayed in front of his leather captain’s chair.

“The bridge is just for steering her. I let myself get distracted at the helm, we’re in trouble.”

“Is there much actual steering to do on open water like this?” I gesture out the expanse of windows that wrap nearly the entire way around us.

“You’d be surprised,” he says, then points out each of the instrument screens that measure and track different metrics, such as current, wind speed, water depth, and a radar that warns of other boats and landmasses. For the first time, I see a map of our heading and realize we’re not far from the San Francisco Bay. “Especially when we hit more populated waters like this. We’re more likely to come across other vessels out here.”

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