The room was bathed in a warm twilight, illuminated only by scattered candles that cast flickering shadows across the walls. A sweet perfume mingled in the air with the dense, almost primal scent of desire. Three female bodies were aligned on the wide bed, curved in perfect harmony, their shoulders tracing a smooth, provocative line.

Elizabeth was in the center, her spine arched with natural elegance, her hips raised in an irresistible curve. To the right, Aria, her dark hair spread over her shoulders like an undone veil. To the left, Ester, her fair skin catching the flickering glow of the flames. The two mirrored Elizabeth’s posture: kneeling, leaning forward, faces close to the crumpled satin of the pillows, surrendered in silence.

Damon knelt behind them, his body taut like a bow ready to fire. His eyes scanned the scene with hungry intensity—three beautiful, surrendered figures before him. The heat of his body touched Elizabeth first, and she shuddered at the firm contact against her already sensitive skin.

"Damon..." she whispered, her voice faltering. "Don’t make me wait..."

With one hand firmly on her waist, he adjusted himself. A hoarse moan escaped her lips as he thrust into her all at once, deep, decisive, in an almost ritualistic gesture.

"Aaah!... God...!" Elizabeth arched even further, stifling a cry into the mattress as her body reacted to the fullness of the impact.

She contracted around him, warm and tight. Damon remained still for a brief moment, savoring the sensation, his eyes half-closed. Then he began to move. Rhythmic, powerful, each thrust made her hips meet his in a wet, indecent rhythm.

Ploc... ploc... tchac...

"That’s it... like that... hnnn...!" Elizabeth moaned breathlessly.

But his attention wasn’t limited to her. His right hand slid down Aria’s glistening, sweaty flank until it reached between her legs. His fingers knew every response of that body. He stimulated her with firm, circular movements, while the pressure of his other hand followed a rhythm that matched his thrusts into Elizabeth.

"Ahh... Damon... more... harder...!" Aria moaned loudly, a melodious, broken sound. "Nngh... that... don’t stop... aaah...!"

Her body trembled as she sought more contact, more intensity.

With his left hand, he devoted himself to Ester in a different way—he knew her delicacy. The touch began slowly, exploring her with precision, before settling where her sensitivity was most acute. The reaction was immediate: a shiver ran down her legs, followed by a long, trembling sigh.

"Haa... Damon... so slowly... ah... like this..." She began to move her hips in short circles, surrendering to the rhythm he imposed.

"Please... don’t stop... nnh..." The room filled with a symphony of moans, gasping breaths, and the muffled sound of skin against skin.

"Aaah..."

"Hnnn..."

"Oh... God..."

"More... more...!"

Elizabeth, at the center, was the axis of everything. Each of Damon’s movements propelled her forward, and this energy was transmitted in waves that made Aria and Ester follow the sway. It was a continuous current of shared pleasure.

Sweat glistened on all bodies. Damon’s muscles worked tense and defined, maintaining a relentless rhythm. He lowered his gaze and saw his hands guiding every reaction, saw how his body merged with Elizabeth’s, and felt the raw dominance of that moment.

"Don’t stop... please... don’t stop..." Aria pleaded, her voice broken by sighs, each word dissolved in the pleasure coursing through her body. "Ah... Damon... like this... like this..."

His fingers maintained a precise, sure rhythm, eliciting involuntary tremors from her. Aria pressed herself against his hand, unable to hide the delicious desperation consuming her.

Ester, beside her, had already lost any ability to form words. All that came from her lips were broken sounds, small muffled cries, and continuous moans.

"Nnh... ah... haa... mmh..."

Her body trembled in successive waves, her hips moving instinctively, as if trying to keep up with the cadence Damon commanded.

Elizabeth, still in the center of it all, gasped against the mattress, her fingers gripping the crumpled sheet. Each thrust of his made her release new sounds, hoarse and uncontrolled.

"Aaah... Damon... I... I can’t take it anymore...!"

The rhythm increased.

His thrusts became faster, deeper, and the pressure of his hands on Aria and Ester intensified accordingly. The breath of the four filled the room, panting, accelerated, almost synchronized in a single collective breath.

Ploc... tchac... ploc... tchac...

The candles flickered as if reacting to the growing heat of the scene. Sweat trickled down their backs, thighs, and tense arms.

"Look at me." Damon’s voice came out low, firm, dominating the air.

The three obeyed as best they could, even caught in the trance of pleasure. Elizabeth raised her face first, her eyes brimming with tears. Aria bit her lower lip. Esther only groaned, unable to hold his gaze for long.

"That’s it..." he murmured. "I want to see you crumble."

Elizabeth was the first.

A sharp, prolonged cry broke through the room as the climax violently overtook her. Her entire body contracted, arching in a perfect curve as successive waves washed over her.

"AAAAAH!... Damon!... Ahhh!..."

Her legs trembled, her muscles tightening around him with unexpected intensity. Damon let out a deep groan, his hips momentarily buckling at the sudden sensation.

"Hnnngh... Elizabeth..."

She could barely breathe. The orgasm seemed endless, tearing spasms and uncontrolled sighs from her.

"Ah... ah... God...!"

Her grip was the trigger. Damon felt his own resistance falter, the rising tide of his own pleasure approaching unchecked. Still, he redoubled his attention to the other two.

His hand on Aria became more intense, precise.

"Come to me, Aria."

"Ahh!... I’m... I’m...!"

Aria barely finished the sentence. A guttural groan escaped her as her body gave way all at once. She arched forward, trembling from her shoulders to her legs, pleasure coursing through her in quick, deep waves.

"Aah!... aaah!... Damon!... nngh!..."

Her fingers gripped the sheet as her internal muscles contracted repeatedly. She whimpered softly between spasms, unable to contain the intensity of the discharge.

Almost at the same instant, Ester also succumbed.

A long sigh escaped first, followed by an abrupt gasp as her body arched gracefully, overcome by a total shiver.

"Haaaaa...! Ah... ah..."

Her legs trembled uncontrollably. Her moans grew louder, weaker, as if each wave emptied her from within.

"Nnh... Damon... ah..."

Seeing and feeling the three women undone before him, Damon finally abandoned what little control he had left. His face hardened, his breath came in short bursts.

"That... exactly that..."

He held Elizabeth tightly and thrust one last time, deep, before surrendering to his own climax with a muffled roar.

"HNNGH...!"

His movements became erratic, spasmodic, prolonging the discharge as his body trembled against hers. Elizabeth groaned again as she felt him falter against her.

"Ah... Damon..."

For long seconds, no one could say anything.

The room was filled only with the sound of heavy, ragged breaths and the distant crackling of the candles.

Haa... haa... hhhn...

Gradually, the tremors subsided. Damon withdrew slowly and let his body fall sideways onto the bed, exhausted, his chest rising and falling in great waves.

Elizabeth collapsed first onto the sheets, still too weak to support her arms. Aria fell beside her, letting out a weak, breathless laugh. Ester rolled onto her back, her eyes closed, a serene expression on her flushed face.

For a few moments, no one moved.

Then, Aria broke the silence.

"You... are impossible..." she murmured between tired laughs.

Damon turned to her, still trying to catch his breath.

"And yet you begged me not to stop."

Aria let out an indignant sound, though she smiled.

"Don’t ruin the moment by talking too much."

Elizabeth laughed softly, her voice hoarse.

"I warned you he was being especially cruel today."

"Cruel?" Damon raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were enjoying it."

Ester finally opened her eyes and spoke, still breathless:

"Shut up... and come lie down properly."

–

Downstairs in the mansion, the early morning hours were shrouded in tranquil shadows, broken only by the dim glow of the hallway lamps. Ingrivid remained leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, trying to concentrate on anything other than what was coming from upstairs. Unfortunately, the old house had solid beams, thick walls, and acoustics too treacherous to preserve certain secrets.

Upstairs, muffled laughter, shuffling footsteps, and rhythmic sounds pierced the silence with irritating clarity.

Ingrivid closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh through her nose.

"Wonderful," she murmured to herself. "The whole house knows about their hobbies."

Another noise came from the ceiling, followed by indistinct voices and a sound that made her clench her jaw. She ran her hand down her waist and distractedly down to her thigh, as if trying to release the accumulated tension from her body. She paused for a second, took a deep breath, and let out a short, humorless laugh. "Great. I’m wet."

She said it in a low voice, as if registering an inconvenient fact and nothing more.

She rested her hands on the counter and tilted her head back, looking at the dark kitchen ceiling as if it were personally to blame for the situation. There was weariness on her face, but also something harder to hide: frustration, heat, need, and an absolute lack of patience to deal with any of those things at that moment.

"And there’s no one useful awake to put out this fire."

She huffed, pushed herself away from the counter, and adjusted her shirt with firm movements, recomposing her posture as if she could discipline her own body through force of habit.

Another sound echoed from above.

Ingrivid pointed to the ceiling.

"You are offensively noisy."

Since she received no answer—to the general relief of her dignity—she walked to the cast-iron stove. She grabbed the kettle, filled it with water, and placed it on the flame with the automatic efficiency of someone who preferred solving practical problems to emotional ones.

"That’s right," she muttered while searching for dried leaves in a cupboard. "I’ll make tea. Balanced people make tea."

She chose a strong blend of bitter herbs, clearly more medicinal than pleasurable. Then she thought better of it and added mint.

"Because I deserve kindness."

From the hallway, light footsteps approached. Cherry appeared in the kitchen doorway, her hair disheveled, still in her nightgown, holding a pillow under her arm.

She looked at Ingrivid. Then she looked at the ceiling. Then she smiled hatefully.

"Also woken up by the athletes?"

Ingrivid continued stirring the herbs without looking at her.

"If you say one more word, I’ll make you sleep in the garden."

Cherry entered, sat on the counter, and swung her feet in the air.

"You seem irritated."

"Perceptive today."

"You seem... specifically irritated."

Ingrivid gave her a dry look.

Cherry’s eyes widened in feigned shock.

"Ahhh. I understand."

"No, you don’t."

"I understand completely."

"Cherry."

"Yes?"

"Silence."

Cherry brought two fingers to her lips, pretending to zip up an invisible zipper. She remained quiet for three full seconds before failing.

"Do you want tea or revenge?"

Ingrivid took a deep breath, counted to five, and poured boiling water into the smaller kettle.

"I want peace."

"We don’t have that here."

"I noticed."

Upstairs, a louder noise made Cherry tilt her head, impressed.

"Wow."

Ingrivid squinted.

"If you keep commenting, you’re going to drink this tea through your nose."

Cherry laughed fearlessly.

"You know I like it when you get aggressive."

"That explains a lot of what’s wrong with you."

The infusion was ready. Ingrivid served two cups purely on reflex, pushed one towards Cherry, and took hers in a careful gulp. The warmth helped organize her thoughts. Or at least disguise her discomfort.

Cherry drank, immediately grimaced, and almost choked.

"Is this tea or liquid punishment?"

"Depends on how much you talk."

Cherry took another sip, defiantly.

Ingrivid leaned her hips on the counter and stared at the dark kitchen window. The moon appeared between clouds, pale and distant. Gradually, the sounds from upstairs diminished, replaced by silence and occasional tired laughter.

She let out another sigh, this time less tense.

Cherry watched Ingrivid sideways for a few seconds, clearly fighting her own pathological need to remain silent. As expected, she lost the battle almost immediately. A crooked smile appeared on her lips before she tilted her head and commented, in the most casually provocative tone possible:

"If it helps... just spread your legs and I can distract you a little."

The effect was instantaneous.

Ingrivid, who had just brought the cup to her lips, spat all the tea in a violent jet directly into Cherry’s face.

"Kyaa!! You idiot!" Cherry yelled, leaping off the counter like a soaked cat. The pillow fell to the floor as she wiped her face, indignant and dripping warm tea. "That was hot!"

"Not hot," Ingrivid replied with absolute serenity, setting the empty cup down on the counter.

Cherry ran her hands through her wet hair, staring at her in theatrical shock.

"I offered help!"

"You offered verbal suicide."

"It was a generous offer!"

"It was incompetent harassment."

Cherry clutched her chest, offended.

"You hurt me."

"I failed, then."

Still wiping her face with her nightgown sleeve, Cherry pointed dramatically at her.

"I’m going to file a police report about this attack."

"Write while it dries."

Cherry narrowed her eyes, then smiled again with that dangerous expression that always preceded bad decisions.

"The offer still stands."

Ingrivid picked up the kettle slowly.

Cherry raised her hands immediately.

"I take back the comment. I take it back. I would never put my tongue in your stinky cunt!"