Page 58 of Original Sins (Dark Odyssey 6)

She shuffles forward, and when she kisses me, that hunger to taste her ravages through me all over again.

“What do I do now?” she whispers over my lips.

“Soak in the bath. You’ll be sore for a while. Dinner will be ready in two hours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

When she slides off the bed, we both watch her perfect body. I can’t get over how perfect she is.

My eyes glue to her ass as she walks away, and I wish I could take her there. Henry will have the pleasure of doing so. That’s how we arrange it. If I take our girl’s virginity, he gets to take her ass. It’s fair. After we claim both virgin passages, then we take turns to fuck however we want.

That is yet to come.

Evie glances back at us before she goes into the bathroom and gives us a shy smile.

I wonder what she feels. I’m always left wondering how a woman feels when they’ve given themselves to us in such a way.

She was fucking magic, and I meant what I said about being addicted to her.

“Jesus,” Henry mutters. “She was fucking amazing.”

“I know.”

She was so in tune with us I would never have believed this was her first time with two guys. She paid us the attention we wanted equally, and it came freakishly natural to her. The same way it does with us.

Henry slides off the bed and starts putting his clothes back on. I do the same and gather the sheets.

“Were you jealous?” Henry asks.

I shake my head. “Not one bit.”

He chuckles. “Good, me neither. That’s still supposed to be weird, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

It’s like we defy some element of human behavior by not showing that possessive element. But I know it’s because it’s him. If another man touched my girl, I’d kill him.

I don’t think I could share with another man, and it’s not the same when I have a threesome with two women. I’ve done both before and slept with multiple women more times than I can count, and it’s never the same as when Henry and I team up.

Maybe it’s because he was the first person I did this with. We were sixteen fucking years old, and the two of us took on the pastor’s virgin daughter who came to tutor us. That’s how we started this crazy thing we share.

“Maybe we should stop asking that question.” He smirks.

When he gazes toward the bathroom door, a shadow of worry crosses over his face.

I hear the water going in the bath and imagine our Duchess inside. He doesn’t appear to be doing that, though.

“Come on, let's go start dinner.” He says, and we leave the room.

When he looks back again, I know he’s worried about something, and I think it might be the same thing I was worried about.

“What?” I ask.

“Montrose. Do you think that’s her real surname?” he asks in a low voice.

“No, I don’t. But we can’t go there, Henry.” I shake my head. I already broke that rule earlier when I asked her if she knew who I was. Of course, I knew that, but my non-question had a double-edged purpose.

In doing what I said to her, it was because I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, and I wanted her desire. But I was also trying to dig deeper than allowed.

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