Page 16 of Room Seventeen

It’s wild and untamed, barbaric and beautiful as we come together—panting, moaning, and growling through our release.

Quiet washes over us, even though nothing has changed. Xander and Garrett are still seated fully inside of me, our come mixed and dripping out of almost every hole. Xander looks over my head at Darian, his raw and open features fading away, his mask sliding back into place. Garrett sighs heavily underneath me, his body going limp, and runs his hands gingerly up and down my chest. Darian lets go of my hair and glides his fingers gently across my lips before sliding off the bed.

Within seconds, the sexually charged chaos dissipates, leaving me chilled despite the sweat on my skin. Xander pulls out of me and stands at the end of the bed. Garrett rolls me to the side so he can pull out of me too, and suddenly I feel empty and alone. They pull me into a seated position. Garret wraps his arm around my waist and holds me upright.

Xander leans forward and kisses my head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We didn’t hurt you?”

I glanced from him to Garrett to the bathroom, where I hear Darian turning on the shower. “No. That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”

He lets out a deep sigh and pulls me to my feet. “Good. I was a little worried we lost control there.”

Garrett stands up beside me. “Come on, let’s clean up and then we can snuggle in bed for a while.”

They walk me into the steamy bathroom where Darian is already rinsing off under the hot shower. He steps out and Xander steps in, pulling me in behind him. He rinses off quickly, forgoing the soap, but handing it to Garrett, who lathers up his hands. It’s Garrett who washes me gently, taking special care as he runs his hands between my legs. “You are going to be very sore later.”

I lean back into Xander’s chest as Garrett pulls my leg up and smile. “I’m sore now.”

“Epsom salt baths.” He says as he rinses me clean. “A lot of Epsom salt baths.”

Xander takes the towel Darian offers and steps out of the shower, holding his hand out to me. I take it and step out as he wraps me in the towel. Twenty seconds later, Garrett is turning off the shower, quickly rinsing himself as well. I’m curious as to why, but I don’t ask, the unbridled carnality of the last half hour replaced by tender aftercare.

“Let’s relax for a bit.” Xander leads me out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around his waist. Darian is standing next to the bed, the bedspread pulled off the bed, and the sheets turned down.

“Are we going to sleep?”

He shakes his head. “No. Just resting.”

I drop my towel and slide into the bed, squirming toward the middle. Xander slides in behind me and pulls my back against his chest.

Garrett slides in on the other side and faces me, tilting his forehead to touch mine. He kisses me gently and smiles, stroking my cheeks under the mask with his fingers. “You are so lovely. Isn’t she lovely, Xander?”

“Perfect in so many ways.”

Darian sits on the bed behind Garrett, his back propped up against the headboard. He keeps his hands to himself, but looks down at us with an almost paternal eye. My energy is depleted as I come down from the events of the night, my brain too tired to capture every detail, and before I know it, my lids are too heavy to keep open and I let them close, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of my men.

10

Carlisle / Ivy

Idoze off for twenty minutes, maybe longer, and wake up alone in the bed. As far as I can tell, I’ve been alone for a while, Garrett no longer lying beside me, stroking my face. Xander no longer behind me, holding me close. But I know I’m not alone, because I hear the deep masculine timbre of their voices in the other room.

I sit up and touch my face, surprised my mask is still in place. This spirit gum is extra, and I’m hoping it doesn’t damage my skin when I take it off.

Part of me—the confident, sexually experimental Ivy—thinks I should take it off, walk into the living area, and present myself to my men. After the excellent care they took of me last night, I can’t help but wonder if the fantasy can live on in the daylight.

But the other part of me—the realistic, awkward, and shy Carlisle—can’t risk the rejection. What if they aren’t happy that the body they’ve thoroughly pleasured and explored all night belongs to their executive assistant? What if Darian gets angry, or Xander turns away from me, or Garrett feels cheated by my betrayal? Because let’s face it, omission is a betrayal, just like lying is a betrayal, and the only reason I get a free pass is because I predicated this night on the agreement that the omission of my identity was non-negotiable. We agreed to one night of anonymous pleasure. And that is what we got.

Fastening the belt on the terry-cloth robe draped for me at the edge of the bed, I shuffle to the door and stop when I catch a part of the conversation I doubt I’m supposed to hear. I peek through the crack in the doorway to find my men in different states of dress. Darian’s completely dressed, his shirt tucked but unbuttoned. Xander is putting on his shoes, his shirt draped over the arm of the sofa. Garrett has his pants on but nothing else, and he’s annoyed, standing with his hands on his hips. I can see Garrett’s profile, Darian’s back, and Xander’s bicep from my perch, but that’s it.

“We should go now while she’s asleep,” Darian says, his throat tight, words strained.

“Now?” Garrett grumbles. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

Xander shakes his head. “It’s daybreak. We’ve done our job, thoroughly used and pleasured her like the invitation said. Now it’s time to go home.”

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