by TJ Dallas
“Mistress—!”
She screamed, rocking her hips as she came, the shock of allowing her to come clear in her surprised exclamation. Her wetness snaked over my hand to my wrist, and my insides clenched, tasting as much of her as I could. She hadn’t foreseen that I’d allow her to orgasm, not without teasing her first, but I’d lost my restraint at the sight, scent, and taste of her. She groaned again, and I continued to fuck her for several minutes, her entire body convulsing and her toes curling.
Eventually, she quietened, and I tapped her thighs, instructing her to release. “You can stand,” I said as I stood up.
She panted as she stood on her own two feet, her body bathed in sweat. She’ll feel that tomorrow. I grinned, reaching up to release the cuffs.
The second her arms dropped, she startled me as she lunged forward, ripping off the blindfold. I gasped at the fierce glint in her eyes, but I didn’t have time to correct her behaviour. She spun me around, forcing me over the bed. Her fingers were deep inside me before I could take a breath.
I briefly caught her gaze in the mirror before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. She found my throbbing clitoris, rubbing hard, the first four fingers of her other hand deep inside me. I couldn’t have stopped myself, even if I’d wanted to.
I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut, my breasts bouncing as another powerful orgasm ripped through me. Every nerve-ending within me fired as I lost control of my body.
My throat was hoarse when I’d finished, my mouth dry and my muscles aching. I slumped forward, gulping in air. I lost skin contact with Harry for a moment as she stood up, but she lay on her side behind me, her breasts against my back and the denim of her jeans against the back of my thighs.
Wait … Jeans?
The Identical’s strap-on entered me as she lifted my leg, hooking it back over her hip. The Original was kneeling in front of me, and she winked when I opened my eyes.
I watched, mesmerised, as she leaned over the top of me to press her lips against the Identical’s. My pussy clenched, my sensitive clit still throbbing, and I moaned, unable to look away from both Harrys kissing above me. The Original held the Identical’s cheeks, pulling her closer to her mouth.
As much as Pride loved me, she loved herself more.
Their tongues danced, a soft moan between them as the Identical increased her tempo, fucking me furiously. I caught the intense stare between them as their eyes met, the Original pulling away a fraction to watch her face.
I groaned again, and it was as if the Original had suddenly remembered I was still there. She lowered her head to take my nipple in her mouth, and I arched my back. She sealed her lips, her tongue flicking the sensitive skin, hardening between her teeth as she sucked. Yet another climax was building deep inside me, and the Identical thrust deeper. I let out another loud moan. If Harry wasn’t careful, I was going to—
A roar left my throat as I came a third time, and my pussy gushed, soaking the blankets on the bed. I couldn’t hide my arousal, and I already knew that I’d never hear the end of it. Harry loved it when I got that wet, and knowing she’d caused it would send her ego through the roof, even more so than usual. At that point in time, I didn’t care. “Oh, God. Fuck!”
I screamed again as the Identical got so excited that she thrust harder, holding my leg up, her heavy breathing loud behind me. Every single muscle in my body tensed as more wetness flowed between my legs.
It was several more minutes before she slowed, and I couldn’t even open my eyes. She pulled out, the feeling of her disappearing from my back, and I lowered my leg, an ache in the crease of my hip.
“I’m not a God,” Harry whispered sarcastically. “I’ve told you that before.”
Squinting through one eye, I realised the Identical was gone. With only the Original left, she lay down, wrapping me up in her arms as I panted hard. I lay my head against her chest, the sound of her heart beating in my ear. I felt dizzy, and emotional, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stop a tear from rolling down my cheek.
Harry couldn’t see my face, but somehow she knew. She lifted her hand, resting it on my cheek and wiping the tear away with her thumb. She said nothing, and I felt another tear escaping from the corner of my eye. After only experiencing love for the past year and a half, I still wasn’t able to understand it. Why on earth did I want to cry right now?
Harry often caused my emotions to hit their peak, but this was the first time I’d ever cried after sex. That final incredible orgasm had completely overwhelmed me, and when I met her gaze after the last remaining ebbs of my climax faded, her eyes searching my soul, I knew just how in love with her I was. I couldn’t have explained it with words, but my heart hammered in my chest, my throat closed up, and there was a tightness in my lungs.
I lost control and sobbed, burrowing my face into her throat.
She stayed quiet, holding the back of my head and kissing my hair as I tried to get a hold of myself. As I steadied, she hugged me even tighter and whispered, “I love you.”
A fresh wave of tears escaped as I pulled back to look at her. The softest smile on her lips, and the deepest blue in her eye, caused my heart to skip a beat.
“I love you too,” I replied, pressing my lips against hers. My tongue grazed the inside of her lips, and she tenderly stroked my cheek with the back of her finger.
We got dressed in silence, but I couldn’t let go of her hand as we made our way to my flat. We fell into bed, and I found myself between her legs, her mouth on mine with her ankles wrapped around my back.
For the first time in my history, I made love to her, unable to take my eyes from her as she came again, and again.
And again.
17
Althea
I woke up slowly, trying to untangle my feet from the duvet covers. I stretched out with a yawn, my arms wide, but I sat up when I realised Harry wasn’t there. I squinted, trying to see the clock in the dark. It’s the middle of the night; where is she?
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and padded through to the living room, trying to rouse myself awake. I heard faint voices and frowned. Is someone here?
I walked quietly towards the living room and caught sight of Harry, lying on the sofa with a blanket tugged up to her chin, her eyes focused on the TV. She looked exceptionally cute, and I realised I’d never seen that side of her before. My eyes scanned the empty tub of pineapple on the floor as I approached.
“Can’t sleep, toots?”
Harry shook her head, reaching for the remote on the floor to mute the TV. She lifted her head, and I sat at the end of the sofa. She rolled onto her back, placing her head on my lap, and I tried to stifle another yawn as I played with her hair.
She winced, and I narrowed my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Cramps,” she groaned, placing her hand on her abdomen.
I replaced her hand with my own, massaging gently. The muscles were incredibly tight, and I held her gently. “Do you want a hot water bottle?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m roasting as it is. I can’t seem to cool down.”
“The blanket won’t help.” I continued to play with her hair and massage her belly, and she closed her eyes in relief. “Is that better? Want to come back to bed?”
“In a minute. I need to sit up, though.”
I manoeuvred myself to a sitting position against the arm of the sofa, and she nestled between my legs, resting her head back against my shoulder. I threw the blanket away so a cool breeze could caress her skin and kissed her cheek, my hand still tenderly rubbing her abdomen.
“Did you know that an orgasm is a natural painkiller due to the release of endorphins?” I asked.
“I’m sure you’ve mentioned that once or twice,” she replied with a chuckle. “Four wasn’t enough?”
“Clearly not.” I kissed her cheek again, my hands cupping her breasts. I circled her nip
ples with my thumbs but slowly came to a stop. “Are your breasts bigger or have my hands got smaller?”
“Your hands are smaller.” She chuckled. “Nah, I think I’m due my period soon. They’ve been quite erratic, so it might be the hormones. That would also explain why I snapped the other day. Sorry about that.”
“It’s OK, toots, you have nothing to apologise for,” I replied. My thumbs circled her nipples again. I blushed as I tried not to remember the impressively dark mood I’d gone into when I’d had my period last week.
I lowered one hand from her breast to her groin, cupping her pussy through the thin fabric of her shorts. She exhaled as my palm moved across the top, and she opened her legs wider, watching my hand. I pressed gentle kisses down the side of her neck, my breath deepening.
I slipped underneath the waistband, and she twitched as my fingertips found her clitoris. She let out a soft moan as I circled her entrance, her wetness pooling inside her with every tender touch.
I released her breast to hold her abdomen with my other hand, hoping a little pressure might ease her cramps, and I started to rub her clit faster. She moaned softly, lifting her feet and bringing her knees towards her shoulders, never taking her eyes from my hand at her pussy. Her legs started to shake, and I sped up, savouring each erotic sound.
She threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. A guttural groan left her chest as she came, her arousal coating my hand, and I quickly hooked an arm around the back of her knee when she tried to lower it as her muscles seized.
It took a few minutes for her climax to fade, and I released her leg again. She squeezed her thighs together.
“Did that help?” I asked.
“Always.” She grinned, stifling a yawn.
I reached for the blanket again. Goosebumps had arisen on her skin, so I threw the blanket over her, settling in behind her. She closed her eyes as she rested back, and I placed my cheek on hers, savouring the feel of her heartbeat against my chest as she fell asleep.
The next morning, I awoke slowly, stretching out my body that had cramped during the night. Harry had disappeared again, and I had the odd sensation of déjà vu as I listened carefully.
I stood up, careful not to trip over the blanket that had landed on the floor. I knocked when I reached the bathroom door. “Harry?”
“Two seconds.”
I frowned, pushing the door open. Harry knelt over the toilet with her eyes closed. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Are you OK?”
“I’m never eating chicken again,” she muttered. “Georgia really needs to speak to her chefs; someone is fucking up somewhere.”
She stood and flushed the toilet before standing at the sink. Cupping her hand underneath the tap, she rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face.
I frowned. “I had chicken last week, and I was all right.”
“You’re the lucky one then. We’ll need to find out if there was a different chef on when you ate. Have any of her customers made a complaint?”
“I’ll ask her later, but I think she’d have mentioned it.”
Harry sighed, straightening up. “If she says yes, tell her to make sure all the paperwork is done. If someone tries to sue, there better be a decent paper trail.”
Once I was showered and dressed, I made my way down to Georgia’s. Harry had joined me in the shower, but she’d thrown a clean pair of pyjama bottoms on and fell back into bed. She’d called Cody to make sure he was able to come in early, and then she’d fallen asleep again, a hand on her abdomen. She still had cramps, and I’d offered to get some paracetamol, but she’d waved me away.
Georgia wasn’t at her usual table when I arrived, so I strolled through the kitchen, watching the chefs and taking subtle notes. They had different coloured chopping boards and coordinating knives for different foods, and there was plenty of sanitiser and clean cloths. Everything was labelled and day-dotted, and a quick peek at one of the folders confirmed that food was regularly tested, the temperatures above 80 degrees. I didn’t know much about kitchen hygiene, but I knew the legal limit was at least 82 degrees Celsius.
I found Georgia at the back of the kitchen, stirring a large metal pan.
“Hi, Althea.”
“Hey, what are you making?”
“A chilli, but I can’t decide if it needs more salt.” She picked up a spoon, dipped it in, cupped her hand underneath, and turned to me. I blew across the top and let her place the spoon in my mouth.
I nodded. “It’s delicious.”
She picked up a different spoon, trying it for herself. “Yeah, I think it’s fine.” She grabbed two bowls and ladled a generous portion into each. Motioning to one of the chefs, she grabbed a couple of forks, and I followed her out to the restaurant. She placed a bowl in front of me and handed me a fork as she sat down.
“Thanks,” I said, settling in for lunch.
“Anytime. What can I do for you?”
I was quiet for a few moments, savouring the chilli. Georgia was one of the sweetest among the Seven, and I didn’t want to inadvertently accuse her of anything. She wouldn’t take it well.
“How many chefs do you have working the grill?” I asked, loading my fork again.
She tilted her head, looking at the ceiling. “It’s mainly Jaime, but a couple of others will take over if he’s off. How come?”
“Has anyone complained over the last few months?”
I avoided her gaze, but I knew her eyes were boring a hole straight through me. I took another mouthful of chilli, chewing slowly.
“No. Why?”
I shrugged. “Harry was just wondering.”
“Why?”
She knew there was something I wasn’t saying. “Um … Harry thinks she might have had some bad chicken the other day.” My voice was barely a whisper, and I couldn’t look at her.
“Absolutely not,” she said, and I winced at the sharpness in her tone. “If Harry wants to accuse me of food poisoning, she can do it herself. Where is she, anyway?”
“She’s in bed. She threw up this morning.”
“Was she drinking last night?”
I scowled. “No, she wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I was with her all evening,” I replied sharply. “She got up during the night with stomach cramps.” I finished the last mouthful of chilli and dropped my fork into the bowl with a clatter.
“Well, she’s been eating enough recently, I’m not surprised. That amount of pineapple can cause gastrointestinal upset.”
“What amount of pineapple?”
Georgia met my gaze. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“She’s been eating it non-stop for months. I’ve had to triple my usual orders to accommodate her.”
“She can’t have eaten that much,” I said, rolling my eyes, but Georgia’s look was serious.
“Althea, she’s obsessed. I’ve ran out a couple of times, and she’s actually cried.”
“OK, now I know you’re being ridiculous. Harry never cries.”
I kept quiet about the only time I’d ever seen her cry: when she’d thought I’d fallen for another woman. I hadn’t known she was in love with me, and she’d been practically forbidden from telling me in case the world imploded. It was Georgia who had knocked sense into her, and Harry had told me later that night that she was head over heels for me and had been for centuries. My heart swelled as I remembered that moment.
“Althea ...” Georgia’s voice brought me back to the present.
“What?”
She sighed, finishing her final mouthful and pushing her bowl aside. “I’m not joking. She’s been going crazy for that pineapple. You can check my order receipts if you don’t believe me. She’s eating almost the same amount as I ate in popcorn when I was pregnant.”
I chuckled, but soon fell silent, my brow furrowing. Georgia looked at me curiously.
I’d never thought of Harry’s symptoms together before: the vomiting, the stomach cramps, the mood swings. They all had their own explanations, but at Georgia’s mention of pineapple, I chewed the inside of my cheek, deep in thought. I remembered Georgia’s incredible desire for popcorn during her pregnancy, and she’d eaten an astonishing amount. Not unusual for Gluttony, but she’d had intense and regular cravings for it.
I shook my head. Absolutely not, that would be ridiculous, I thought.
“What’s ridiculous?” Georgia asked aloud.
I looked up and swallowed. “It’s nothing. Just something you said …” I trailed off.
“What did I say?”
“Pineapple.”
Georgia nodded, looking more confused. “Uh-huh …?”
“There’s other weird stuff too. She’s thrown up a few times, and she’s getting stomach cramps. She’s having mood swings as well, but I thought that was down to her temper, you know what she’s like. I just ... hadn’t considered them together.”
Georgia stilled, her eyes widening at my insinuation. She took a moment to form a response. “You … You don’t think she’s pregnant?”
As soon as Georgia said it out loud, I realised how ridiculous it was, and I laughed. “Nah. The likelihood of her sleeping with a man is as likely as you leaving food on your plate.”
She grinned but quickly fell quiet as well. I saw her forehead wrinkling in concentration, looking puzzled. I don’t think she’d considered everything together, either.
“You could get her to take a test?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know exactly how that conversation would go.”
“If these symptoms keep happening, then she needs to get checked by a doctor. The first thing they’ll ask is whether she might be pregnant. Worth doing one anyway, just to rule it out before she sees a GP.”
I nodded slowly, but it really was impossible. Harry had been having weird symptoms for months, and her stomach was still flat. Plus, she’d said her period was due, and I think she’d have told me if she’d somehow missed any in the preceding months. But I was still sceptical.