This was always an issue, I suppose. Story didn’t choose to become our Lady—not really. She was here for protection, maybe some revenge, but it was never something she wanted. I doubt she’ll ever be able to understand that some girls do, and it’s not always just because of the status and benefits. Candy Cocks, the house rules, the rivalries, the crazy, uninhibited sex…
It’s supposed to be a good time for all.
Sure, there are Royal women who get dogged on. God only knows what kind of sick shit the Counts get up to behind closed doors, and the Dukes, well…they brand their goddamn house mark into their Duchesses. The Lords have rules—strict rules—for their Lady, and I’m not deluded enough to think it’s an easy position to fill. Some have cracked, others have probably persevered past their own limits. But even though we might all be sadistic fucks to a certain degree, no one who isn’t at least a little bit into it would audition. No one’s that crazy.
The silence that falls over us is awkward, slicing right through the easy fun of the day.
Weirdly, Story’s the first to shake it off.
She tips her head back, eyes closing. “Just so we’re clear, I would have crushed it.”
My eyes follow the rise and fall of her chest, the steam not thick enough to hide the flush of her cheeks. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” She lazily cuts her arms through the water. “I could totally pick your dicks out of a lineup. Any day, any time.”
Tristian shoots me and Rath an amused look. “You really think so?”
She lifts her head, nodding. “Oh, yeah. They’re so distinctive.”
I’m the one to ask, “Distinctive?” A dick’s a dick, if you ask me, and I’ve been in a lot of locker rooms.
“Oh, definitely,” she says, eyes so wide and guileless that butter couldn’t melt. “For instance, Tristian is—” She pauses, and then suddenly leaps through the water at me. “Here, I’ll show you.”
I let her guide me between the others, and when she makes a lifting gesture, looking frustrated when we all just stare at her, I’m the first to get the hint. “Well, we already know mine’s the biggest,” I say, standing.
Tristian catches on, whipping his head around to laugh in my face. “In what fucking universe?”
The air is like icy razors against my skin when I prop myself on the edge of the tub, and from Tristian’s hissed inhale as he follows suit, I’m guessing he feels the same. Rath’s the last to get with the program, but when he does, he rolls his eyes.
“Aren’t we a little old for a dick measuring contest?” He reaches beneath the water, shoulders shifting as he pulls off his boxers. “Pretty sure I won this Junior year of high school.”
When we’re all lined up on the edge of the tub, Story rubs her cheeks and just…looks. Her eyes ping from one dick to another, taking them in. Despite the cold, Tristian and Rath, like me, are already approaching full staff.
“Yes, see?” She bobs up between Tristian’s knees, sliding her palms up his thighs. “Tristian’s is always so nice and trimmed. He really takes care of it, you can tell.” We all watch, transfixed as she reaches up to run a fingertip down its length. “You can tell he’s proud of it. He always smells so good, even down there.” She gives his cock a long, considering look. And then she nods, like she’s come to some very grave decision. “I like it.”
He reaches down to tuck a palm behind her neck, and I’d know that flash of darkness in his eyes anywhere. “Show me, sweetheart.” He wraps his other fist around the base, nudging her close. “Show me how much you like my dick.”
She barely has to be encouraged. One second, she’s inspecting it wistfully, and the next, she’s swallowing it down.
Tristian puffs out a cloud of warmth into the chilled air, letting his dick go only to press a palm to the back of her head. He pushes her down—forces her—until I can see her shoulders contract with the struggle to breathe.
“Tris—” I start, but he just fists his fingers into her hair.
“Nah, she can take it.” After a moment, he tugs her back, dick twitching between her lips at the wetness in her eyes. His voice is gravelly, but somehow still soft when he asks, “You like taking my cock like that, don’t you? Tell them, so they know.”
She nods, gazing up at him. “I like feeling you in the back of my throat.” Her voice is rough, but she doesn’t clear it. She ducks in to plant a long, sucking kiss to the head before backing away. Tristian tries to drag her back, but she’s already swimming to Rath, eyes taking in his cock next. “Dimitri’s feels the best inside, because it’s got this wicked curve right here.” She runs her lips over the shaft, voice hushed against the skin. “And he knows just how to use it. He’s always so precise and teasing.” She tilts her head, pressing her pensive face against his thigh. “It hits all the right places. I’d know this one anywhere.”