Cottage Getaway Pt. 7

The morning light streamed lazily through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the tangled mess of bodies in bed. The air smelled faintly of sex, perfume, and the lingering traces of last night’s indulgences.

You stirred first, the weight of Madison’s arm draped over your stomach, her body warm and bare against your side. Leo lay sprawled beside her, still deep in sleep, his breathing slow and even. The sheets were in complete disarray, twisted around limbs and half-kicked to the floor.

A slow smirk tugged at Madison’s lips as she opened her eyes, gazing at you through the golden morning haze. Her dark lashes fluttered slightly, and for a moment, she simply looked at you.

Then, her lips curled into a sleepy grin. “Morning, gorgeous.”

You chuckled, stretching slightly beneath her arm. “Morning.”

She let out a satisfied sigh, her bare skin brushing against yours. “Last night was fun,” she murmured, voice husky with sleep.

You smirked. “I’ll say.”

She reached up, brushing her fingers over your collarbone, tracing light patterns along your skin. “And I gotta say, you were fun to play with.”

Your smirk widened, but then you glanced toward Leo, still knocked out beside her. You kept your voice lower. “I should thank you, actually.”

Madison quirked a brow. “For what?”

You exhaled, glancing at her meaningfully. “For stepping in. I wasn’t really up for Leo fucking me last night.”

She studied you for a moment before a slow, knowing smile stretched across her lips. “I figured as much,” she murmured. “I could tell by the way you shifted the focus on me.”

She tilted her head, smirking. “You’re a clever one.”

You grinned. “And you played along perfectly.”

Madison chuckled softly, eyes flickering with amusement. “What can I say? I do like being the center of attention.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but before you could say anything else, Madison’s fingers slipped beneath the strap of your lace bra, pulling you closer.

“Now, I think I deserve a little reward for that, don’t you?” she murmured, her lips barely an inch from yours.

You didn’t hesitate.

Your lips met hers, soft and warm, slow at first—a teasing brush, a lingering touch. Then, the kiss deepened, Madison’s fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you even closer.

Her bare chest pressed against yours, the heat of her body sinking into you.

For a moment, you forgot where you were.

It was just her—the scent of her perfume still lingering on her skin, the taste of last night still on her lips.

Then, as quickly as it started, you pulled away, smirking.

“I should get dressed,” you murmured against her lips.

Madison hummed in response, eyes half-lidded. “Mmm… probably a good idea.”

Then, her arms tightened around you, pulling you into one last, lazy kiss.

When she finally released you, she flopped back onto the bed, stretching like a satisfied cat. “You can use my stuff in the bathroom,” she said, voice drowsy. “No need to go back to your room and wake anyone up.”

You smirked, appreciating the convenience. “Thanks.”

Madison yawned, turning onto her side. “I’m gonna doze off again.”

You slipped out of bed carefully, stretching slightly as you adjusted your lacy white panties, smoothing them into place. Madison watched you for a moment, her lips curling in amusement, before closing her eyes.

Shaking your head, you padded toward the bathroom, ready to wash away the remnants of the night before.

The bathroom was sleek, modern, and bathed in soft natural light filtering through a frosted window. You shut the door behind you with a quiet click, exhaling as you leaned against the marble counter.

Madison’s toiletries were scattered across the double vanity—expensive skincare bottles, perfume, a few stray hair ties. You spotted her toothbrush in a rose gold holder beside Leo’s.

Guess that’s mine for now.

Grabbing her toothbrush from the holder, you lathered it with her vanilla-mint toothpaste and started brushing. The sharp, fresh taste cut through the remnants of last night—lipstick, ****, and the unmistakable tang of someone else’s mouth lingering on your tongue.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, hair tousled, lips still slightly swollen.

Last night…

You spat into the sink and rinsed, staring at yourself a moment longer.

It had been different. Not just because it was a threesome, but because—for the first time in a long time—you weren’t under the Forget-Me-Mint’s influence. No haze, no promise of amnesia forcing you to act in ways you otherwise wouldn’t.

And yet…You had liked it.

Maybe not the whole thing—maybe not every part of it—but the thrill of it, the way Madison’s body had felt against yours, the way you two interacted with Leo—it had all been fun.

You turned the shower on, letting the water heat up before stepping in.

Your hands went to your back, unclasping the white lace bra, letting it slide down your arms. The matching panties followed, the delicate lace pooling at your feet before you stepped out of them and into the warm cascade of water.

The heat enveloped you, washing away the remnants of last night, but it didn’t wash away the thoughts.

Madison.

You hadn’t expected to enjoy being with her so much. Maybe it was the way she took control, the way she made everything feel effortless, fun, easy. Maybe it was the way she looked at you—like she knew you were beautiful, knew you were desirable.

Or maybe it was the way she instinctively knew to step in, to shift Leo’s focus when you weren’t comfortable.

You let the water stream down your face, inhaling deeply.

And I liked sucking his cock. With her.

The thought came unbidden, but there was no point in denying it.

Fuck.

You ran your hands over your arms, feeling the slickness of the body wash as you scrubbed yourself clean.

This was dangerous. The task was Damian Kane. He was the goal. Not getting swept up in sex with strangers, not enjoying this new identity, this new body.

But the more you played the role, the more it felt like second nature.__

It was fun, just how sex should be.

You rinsed off, shaking off the thoughts as best as you could.

Stepping out, you grabbed one of Madison’s plush white bathrobes and wrapped it around yourself. It smelled like her perfume—something light and floral, expensive.

You scooped up your discarded bra and panties from the floor, gripping them in one hand as you padded toward the door.

Time to get dressed. Time to get back on track.

The sounds started before you even reached the bedroom door. Rhythmic. Wet. The unmistakable slap of skin against skin.

“Mmm—fuck, just like that—”

You barely blinked.

As you pushed open the door, your suspicions were confirmed—Bianca was on top of Richard, her curvy, bronzed body bouncing effortlessly as she rode him. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, nails digging into his chest as she let out a low, sultry moan.

Richard, as relaxed as ever, had his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements with lazy, practiced ease. His head tilted back slightly as he groaned, his signature smirk playing at the edges of his lips—until his gaze flickered toward you.

Bianca followed his gaze, eyes locking with yours.

None of you flinched.

You just gave them a slow, flirtatious wave, winking as you leaned against the doorframe.

Bianca smirked but didn’t stop moving. If anything, she rolled her hips slower, more deliberately, like she wanted you to watch. Richard chuckled, that rich, velvety sound you’d come to recognize so well, but he didn’t take his eyes off you as he exhaled deeply, gripping Bianca’s hips a little harder.

Well, good for them.

You turned away with an amused smile, making your way to your suitcase. No point in disturbing their fun—you had an outfit to pick.

You knelt by your open suitcase, rifling through the neatly folded clothes. If you had to listen to them fuck, at least you could do it while looking good.

You pulled out a white halter top with an open back—casual, light, perfect for the lingering warmth of the afternoon. It had a sleek, minimalistic cut, leaving your shoulders bare.

Next, black faux-leather pants—tight, hugging your curves, emphasizing every smooth line of your hips and thighs. Edgy but still chic.

For shoes, you grabbed your black stiletto heels with ankle straps—elegant, sharp, adding that extra bit of power to the look.

Gold hoop earrings to match.

Adding some panties, you gathered your clothes and made a beeline for the ensuite bathroom. No way you were changing in front of them—not that they’d mind, but you still had some boundaries.

You shut the door behind you, exhaling. The walls weren’t exactly soundproof, and you could still hear Bianca’s breathy moans, the deep, masculine groans from Richard, the creak of the bed.

“Mmm—yes—yes—”

You ignored the way Bianca’s voice pitched higher as you let out a breath, setting the clothes down on the counter.

Richard groaned, deep and guttural, the telltale sound of his hands gripping Bianca’s hips harder. “Shit—just like that—”

You untied the bathrobe and let it slip off your shoulders, the cool air brushing against your bare skin as you reached for your panties first. Sliding them up your legs, adjusting the lace against your hips, you focused on the motions—not on the sounds coming from the other room.

Then the halter top, slipping it on and tying the back neatly, leaving the smooth expanse of your back exposed.

The leather pants took the most effort, the material snug as you shimmied into them, fastening the button with a small snap.

“Ahhh—fuck—” Bianca’s voice broke into a whimper, her breathing ragged.

You smirked at your reflection, adjusting the hem of your top before—

Richard’s low, drawn-out groan filled the room.

You didn’t need to see Richard to know exactly what that sound meant.

With a final glance in the mirror, you smoothed down your outfit, tilting your head slightly.

Perfect.

You picked up your makeup bag and strutted toward the door, the sound of Richard’s orgasm echoing behind you.

Time to get really ready.

The mirror reflected back a face that was undeniably yours—soft, smooth, and carefully curated. Without a second thought, you reached for moisturizer, smoothing it over your skin in careful, upward strokes. Hydration was key to a flawless base, and by now, this ritual was second nature.

Next, primer—you massaged it into your skin, letting it blur imperfections, a soft, velvety canvas for what came next.

Your hands moved with a practiced ease, reaching for foundation, blending it seamlessly with a damp beauty sponge, pressing the product into your skin with precision. The shade was perfect, a subtle glow enhancing the natural contours of your face.

Concealer came next, dabbed beneath your eyes, along the bridge of your nose, and at the high points of your face. A few taps of the sponge later, and your complexion looked effortlessly radiant.

A quick sweep of contour—not too harsh, just enough to sculpt, enhance. You angled your brush carefully, blending it into the hollows of your cheeks, along your jawline, down the sides of your nose.

Then came blush, a soft wash of color over your cheeks, blending into the high points to mimic a natural flush.

You reached for highlighter, sweeping a touch onto the tops of your cheekbones, the tip of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. Just enough to catch the light, to give that effortless glow.

Your fingers found an eyebrow pencil, carefully filling in sparse areas, shaping and defining the arches with delicate, hair-like strokes. A clear gel locked everything in place.

For eyeshadow, you went with warm neutral tones, blending a soft brown into your crease before layering on a champagne shimmer across your lids. A darker shade defined the outer corners, subtly smoked out for depth.

A swipe of eyeliner—sharp, precise, extending just slightly into a soft-winged flick. Enough to lift the eyes, to add a sultry edge.

Then, mascara, coating each lash in deep black, lengthening, thickening, curling. Your lashes fluttered with each blink, framing your gaze with the perfect amount of drama.

Finally, lips—you reached for a nude pink lip liner, tracing the natural shape before filling in with a soft satin lipstick, pressing your lips together to blend.

Perfection.

Just as you were admiring your handiwork, the bathroom door swung open.

Bianca leaned against the frame, dressed in last night’s outfit, her makeup a little smudged but still stunning. She looked at you with an easy smirk, tilting her head.

“Damn, babe,” she mused, eyes sweeping over your face. “If I had half your talent, I’d never pay for glam again.”

You chuckled, capping your lipstick. “Flattery this early in the morning?”

Bianca bit her lip, eyes dragging over your face one last time. “See you around, gorgeous.”

And just like that, she turned and strode out, leaving behind only the scent of perfume and the soft click of the door shutting behind her.

You shook your head with a smirk, reaching for a setting spray, misting your face to lock everything in place.

A moment later, the door opened again.

This time, it was Richard.

He walked in like he owned the place—which, to be fair, he kind of did—and stopped just behind you, his gaze trailing over your reflection in the mirror. His lips quirked into a lazy smirk before his hand came down in a light, teasing spank against your ass.

“You don’t have to worry,” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep. “Bianca’s head isn’t as good as yours.”

You stilled for a second, blinking at his reflection.

You weren’t sure how to take that.

A compliment? An insult? Some weird mix of both?

Richard just chuckled at your reaction, ruffling a hand through his hair before heading back to the bed. He collapsed onto the mattress, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, already scrolling through whatever billionaires scrolled through in the morning.

You took one last glance at your reflection, running a hand through your hair.

Flawless.

Without another word, you turned and strode toward the door.

Time for breakfast.