29: The Open Door

The soft rhythm of Mia’s breathing was steady now, her lashes still damp from all the laughter and the emotionally charged revelations of the evening. Sarah and Marisol were kissing him in heat, aroused beyond belief seeing Mia with Bharath. He still couldn’t understand how his girls were ok with her doing what she did.

Bharath effortlessly lifted Mia’s delectable body, still clad in her skimpy shirt baring her breasts in all their glory and tiny shorts that wrapped around that amazing ass that he couldn’t stop dreaming about. Still, despite his arousal, he gently laid her into the armchair. She mewled as she missed his heat but he gently bundled her using the throw on the couch.

She lay curled on the oversized armchair near the fireplace, wrapped in the throw, her head resting against one armrest and her feet tucked under the other. A movie still flickered on the TV screen, long forgotten. Empty pizza boxes sat stacked on the side table. The girls had dimmed the lights an hour ago. The silence that remained was thick with unspoken tension.

Mia was finally asleep.

Thank God.

Bharath could still feel her-burned into him-the silky press of her near-naked body grinding on his lap, the maddening sway of those shorts, the perfect bounce of her breasts under that too-thin t-shirt. She hadn’t meant to torture him.

Or maybe she had.

But now she was curled up in the armchair like an innocent, dreaming angel. It was almost cruel.

He glanced down. His cock throbbed, straining painfully against the fabric of his pants. Every nerve still remembered the ghost of Mia’s body-how she’d pressed into him, how her breath had hitched when she looked up at him like she wanted to be taken.

She was beautiful. No denying that.

But she was also Marisol’s sister.

That made her sacrosanct in his eyes. Off-limits. A line he had sworn to never cross. Not even for a second.

He had let her sit there. Let her grind against him. Let her temptation burn through him like incense. But he hadn’t moved. Not a muscle. Not a twitch of indulgence.

Because if he did ... it wouldn’t just be lust. It would be betrayal.

And he loved Marisol and Sarah too much to dishonor them like that. They were his soulmates. His women for life.

So he sat. In silence. Burning with desire. Restrained in honor.

And then-he looked up.

Sarah and Marisol were watching him as they saw the warmth in his eyes tinge with something else now. Not lust. Not yet. Something heavier.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

Sarah, still on the couch, propped herself up on one elbow. “Of course.”

Marisol stretched lazily, then sat upright. “What’s wrong, amor?”

Bharath’s jaw tensed. “What just happened?”

Sarah’s expression sobered. “Mia?”

He nodded, folding his arms, trying to stay grounded. “She was ... practically naked. Grinding on me. On my lap. And you-” He glanced between them, voice low but urgent. “You didn’t say anything. You encouraged her.”

Marisol’s smile faded a touch. “You didn’t touch her.”

“I couldn’t,” he said, his voice sharp with restraint. “I didn’t want to. Not like that. Not without talking to you both. She’s your sister, Marisol.”

“I know.”

“She’s just a girl. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s still young, figuring herself out. I’m not sure she fully understands this.”

Sarah tilted her head. “Doesn’t she? She’s only a year younger than Marisol. She’s practically an adult. Don’t you find her desirable?”

Bharath shook his head, his voice rising slightly. “I’m not saying she’s not beautiful. I mean ... God, have you seen her? Of course I desire her as a man. But that’s not the point. I cannot betray you. Either of you. Both of you are all I need. You are my forever. I could never live with myself if I did anything that would threaten what we are building together.”

Sarah stood and crossed to him. She placed her hand on his chest. “You didn’t betray us. Not even close.”

Marisol followed, pressing to his other side. “In fact, the way you held yourself back? We’ve never been so turned on.”

Bharath closed his eyes, jaw clenched. “Don’t deflect. I’m serious.”

“So are we,” Sarah said, her lips grazing his collarbone. “You want her. We see it. We feel it. But you chose us.”

Marisol ran a palm along his side. “That’s why we trust you. That’s why we love you even more.”

Sarah’s smile turned wicked. “So you want us to make it easier for you to say no ... while you’re standing in front of us like that?” Her fingers slipped down, brushing over his hardness. “Because right now, baby, your body’s screaming yes.”

Bharath didn’t move, didn’t soften under their touch yet. He stepped back slightly, just enough to breathe. “You’re not hearing me.”

Sarah blinked. “We are.”

“No,” he said. “You’re ... rewarding me for restraint. But that’s not what I need right now.”

Marisol tilted her head. “Then what do you need, amor?”

“Clarity,” he said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Support. You both know I’m not just attracted to Mia. It’s more than that. I see her changing. Maturing. Becoming ... someone I could...”

He stopped himself. Bit the inside of his cheek.

Sarah’s gaze softened. “Someone you could love?”

“Don’t,” he warned, voice breathless.

“Don’t what?” Marisol whispered. “Remind you that you didn’t act on Mia? That you stayed true? That your cock was practically bursting but you didn’t move an inch?”

Sarah kissed along his jaw. “That deserves a reward, doesn’t it?”

“Girls - please -” he began.

Marisol’s eyes dropped to the bulge still pulsing in his jeans. Her lips parted. Her breath caught.

Sarah gave him a slow, wicked grin. “Poor baby,” she whispered. “Do you need help?”

But then Marisol’s fingers tugged his jeans loose.

“Mi amor,” she whispered. “Let us honor your restraint the only way we know how.”

Sarah dropped to her knees before he could protest again. “Just a taste,” she said, already licking a stripe up the side of his shaft. “For being so damn loyal.”

He groaned, back arching, hands helplessly tangling in her hair. “We’re not done talking...”

But Marisol was already behind him, pressing her breasts to his back, her hand stroking the base of his cock just below Sarah’s lips.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “This isn’t over.”

Sarah looked up, eyes gleaming. “But you’re not getting out of this without finishing inside us first. Many times over. You can’t wind us up like this and not give us release. Plus you owe me a claiming ritual”.

Marisol’s hands were already at her hem. “You’ve earned it,” she breathed. “You didn’t touch her. You didn’t even flinch. Even when she was throwing herself at you. Come take what’s yours.”

Sarah’s night clothes dropped a second later. “Claim me,” she said simply. “Now!”

He didn’t wait for a third invitation.

Bharath surged forward like a man uncaged. He pulled Sarah up and his mouth crashed against hers, devouring her whimper with a growl. She gasped as he hauled her against his chest, arms locked on her ass as she leapt into his grasp. Marisol climbed onto his back, pressing wet kisses along his neck, her bare breasts flattened against him as she whispered, “Take her. Claim her like you did me. Make her scream. Then take me.”

They barely made it up the stairs without falling over.

Bharath threw Sarah onto the bed like a prize-like something already his-and she laughed, breathless, as he grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her down. Marisol was already undressing behind him, her naked body gleaming in the low bedroom light, her fingers teasing her nipples as she watched.

“From the top,” Bharath growled.

He crawled over Sarah like a storm breaking over her body, grabbing a fistful of her blonde hair and tugging her head back. She moaned as he kissed her forehead first. Then her temple. Then her cheek. Her jaw. Her throat. His lips traveled lower, biting and sucking at her collarbone before dragging his tongue between her breasts, circling her nipples until she squirmed and arched.

“My tits are yours,” Sarah moaned. “My whole body. Yours. Please-please- Yes!!! Bite me baby ... harder!”

Bharath didn’t answer. He was too busy marking her while Marisol was giving him hickeys on his neck and back as she ground into him quivering with lust.

Outside, in the dark of the living room, Mia’s eyes fluttered open.

At first, she thought it was part of a dream-the kind you weren’t supposed to wake from. At first, she strained to hear anything, but quickly, the sounds escalated from subtle rustling to unmistakable, unrestrained cries of pleasure. Then she heard it again: the soft creak of bedsprings. A muffled moan. A sharp smack. Then a scream - one of pleasure!

Her breath caught. That was Sarah!

She sat up slowly, the throw slipping from her shoulders like a discarded spell. The movie on the screen had gone to static. The house was still-except for the rising tide of heat from behind the barely closed bedroom door.

The stairway stretched ahead like a secret invitation.

She padded toward it, barefoot, heart hammering, thighs pressed tight. The bedroom door was ajar - just slightly - enough to know it was intentional, but the sounds leaking through were not subtle.

Marisol’s voice floated out, breathless and commanding. “Take her, mi amor. Make your slut scream.”

Mia crept up the stairs quickly, shivering with desire.

She didn’t even remember crossing the last few feet. She only knew that she was suddenly there-pressed to the doorframe, one eye peeking through that sacred slit.