Page 48 of Tangwystle
More like payback. A jolt of lust shot through me as the washcloth rubbed my pussy.
But Baz clicked his tongue as he stepped back into the bathroom. “I can’t leave you two alone for five seconds. Pet, I said wash her, not play with her.”
My stomach tightened at his words. He spoke so frankly about our arrangement. And I loved how he cherished us yet spoke of us like playthings. It called to something simmering deep inside me.
Gretel pouted, and I couldn’t help pressing my cunt against the washcloth, wanting the friction.
But Baz wouldn’t allow it. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, crouching by the tub. He was way too overdressed in his button-down shirt and silk vest. He still wore shoes, and he ran a hand to push his hair back. “There will be no coming unless I say so. Do you understand?”
We stared at him, washcloths in our hands. Gretel pouted, but we both nodded.
“Good.” He smiled. “Now finish your washing and get ready for bed.”
Gretel quickly wiped down my body. I’m certain she didn’t trust herself to touch me long enough. I made her lift her arms and washed every bit of her, not so secretly delighting in annoying her with my thoroughness.
Baz dried both of us. When he wrapped the towel around me, he pulled my back into his chest, holding me tight for a few seconds.
He handed me a jar of cream, and I applied it to Gretel’s ass.
She crawled into bed naked, but I slipped on a long nightgown that I found on the counter in the bathroom. Baz had gone downstairs to fetch it, correctly assuming I’d want to wear it, though, he had grabbed the most transparent option.
He’d also changed the linen, smirking at me as if to say,see, I can do housework.
I climbed into the middle of the bed, and Gretel curled into me, her chest to my back. Baz drew the covers up and then walked around. He lay down on his back, one arm bending behind his head. The other stretched out, gathering us to him. My head rested in the nook of his shoulder.
Gretel squeezed me tighter, her face nuzzling into my back. Her hands wandered, drifting lower.
“Sleeping in the bed is a privilege,” Baz warned. Gretel’s hands stopped moving.
I easily fell asleep, we all did. I never considered that the morning might be strange.
But for a moment, as light cascaded through the window, I asked myself what I had done. No torrent of white hot confusion pricked into me. I was still a cautious creature, though, and the feeling of Gretel’s soft body the next day made me blink awake and nervously contemplate the night before.
I’d never felt so safe, though. So warm and so loved. Baz held me still, and Gretel had remained tucked into my back. They’d created a cocoon around me.
As ridiculous as it might sound, all I could think about was getting up and starting breakfast.
I knew already there was no going back for us. And I didn’t want it. But slightly overwhelmed, I deemed going down to the kitchen my safest option, a lingering symptom of being a creature of habit.
As delicately as I could, I extracted myself from the bed. It wasn’t an easy feat, considering how entangled we’d slept.But Gretel rolled into the pillows, snoring. It’d take me several more months to realize the only reason she’d gotten out of bed so easily when we shared the little room under the stairs was because she’d been trying to impress me.
Gretel slept soundly as I tiptoed around the room. I grabbed my crumpled dress from the floor. It wouldn’t do to put it back on, so I meant to add it to the laundry. Off in search of a fresh dress downstairs, I headed to the door.
“Leaving so soon, fairy,” Baz rasped. I turned to find his blue eyes blazing. He’d slept without a shirt, and my gaze lingered on the muscles of his abs. But my appreciation of his form didn’t soften him. He motioned me over to him.
Stiffly, I walked to his side. He kept his voice low for Gretel’s sake, but I couldn’t mistake his tone for anything but stern.
“From now on you don’t leave the bed without kissing me good morning first.”
I bent forward and pressed my lips to his. “Yes, sir.”
He relaxed into his pillows, a sleepy sigh escaping as I tiptoed out of the room.
Part of me wanted to fill a bucket of cold water and dunk my head in it. Because what right did I have to do such nasty things with such beautiful people like Baz and Gretel?
My mind told me this is how things should be. Me in the kitchen, making breakfast, while they slept in bed together. My mind even went so far as to tell me that if Baz decided to marry Gretel, that would be okay. She might have started her life as a lowly servant, but it made complete sense that she ended up the wife of a gentleman, the lady of a manor.
“What are you thinking about?” Baz asked, clambering down the stairs.
