Chapter Twenty-Nine: Undone

Daniel sat back, muscles tense, as the women worked together to undo his trousers with slow, devastating patience.

The moment his cock sprang free, he gasped, more from the sudden exposure, the weight of their gazes, than from the sensation itself.

“Well,” Vivian murmured, her hand closing deftly around his half-hard length, her palm warm, her touch commanding.

“I always knew it,” Elena said, voice low and almost reverent, as she admired him, her dark eyes gleaming with something that bordered on hunger.

Daniel exhaled sharply, gripping the arm of the sofa with white-knuckled restraint, watching them through half-lidded eyes caught somewhere between anticipation and disbelief.

“Glad I could impress, your honor,” a tinge of pride in his voice.

Vivian tilted her head, a silver curtain of hair slipping over one shoulder, her icy blue gaze pinning him down with delicious cruelty.

“Don’t be so cocky. You do realize,” she murmured, her voice like silk sliding over steel, “we’re about to devour you, counselor.”

Elena chuckled, the sound rich and knowing, as she ran her hands slowly up his thighs.

“He looks ready for it,” she mused, flashing him a smile that was both invitation and challenge.

Vivian traced a single manicured finger along the inside of his knee light, deliberate, unbearably slow.

“Let’s see just how much he can handle,” she said, her voice a promise.

And then they moved.

Together.

There was a precision to it, an unspoken choreography as Elena leaned in first, her lips pressing a soft, almost tender kiss against his shaft. A caress disguised as reverence.

Daniel groaned, low and raw, as Vivian followed, her tongue tracing the underside of his length with maddening slowness.

He twitched under their attention, the sensation almost too much, too electric.

Vivian smirked at his reaction, the corner of her mouth curling with satisfaction.

Without a word, they continued two powerful, beautiful women working him over with a kind of practiced grace. Their tongues moved in tandem, gliding along him, one from the base, the other from the tip, meeting in the middle with a sinful, teasing flick.

Daniel’s head fell back against the sofa, his chest heaving, the room tilting slightly around him.

He was undone already, and they had barely begun.

They moved with a sense of deliberate expedience—the kind that came only with age, with experience, with a dominance so ingrained it didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

No fumbling. No hesitation.

They took turns with him, slow and methodical, unraveling him piece by piece, each touch, each glance, each measured brush of fingers against skin calculated to strip him down to something raw and helpless beneath them.

And then Elena lowered herself.

Daniel barely had time to process it before he felt her mouth on him hot, wet, devastating.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t shy. It was controlled, hungry, almost clinical in its precision, as if she’d been holding back until now, saving the best of herself for this.

He groaned, hand flying to the back of the sofa for something to anchor him. His muscles twitched under the strain of staying still, of not bucking up into her mouth.

Vivian was right there beside her, supporting her, guiding her. One hand settled at the nape of Elena’s neck, gently holding her hair back with a familiarity that spoke of old, unspoken understandings. Her other hand roamed Daniel’s thighs, slow, steady strokes meant to drive him mad.

Her icy blue gaze never left his face.

“Come now, Elena,” Vivian murmured, her tone lazy and commanding all at once. “It’s my turn.”

Elena pulled away with a soft, deliberate pop, the sound obscenely loud in the otherwise silent room. She looked up at Daniel through dark lashes, smirking.

“I was just getting started,” she said, voice rich with mischief.

Vivian gave a low, amused hum as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind Elena’s ear, almost tenderly. “We’ve got all night. No need to be greedy.”

Before Daniel could string a single coherent thought together, before he could find any words at all, he felt Vivian’s mouth replace Elena’s.

And all that came out of him was a helpless, broken groan: “Fuck.”

Vivian was different than Elena.

Where Elena had been heat and hunger, all slow teasing and lingering pulls, Vivian was precision. Calculated. Ruthless. Every movement of her mouth was purposeful, designed to reduce him to nerve endings and instinct. She didn’t caress; she consumed, her silver-blonde head bobbing with measured grace, every flex of her throat a reminder that she was in complete control of the moment, and of him.

Daniel’s hands fisted uselessly at his sides.

Every instinct screamed at him to move, to grab, to thrust, to lose himself completely, but he didn’t. He stayed frozen under their touch, trembling on the edge of surrender.

Elena, still kneeling beside him, brushed her lips along the inside of his thigh, then up the sharp line of his hipbone. Her nails scraped lightly against his skin, teasing just enough to make him twitch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve indulged in a handsome young gentleman,” she murmured, her voice like velvet dipped in heat. “Count yourself lucky, counselor.”

Daniel groaned out something incoherent, his head falling back against the sofa, his eyes squeezing shut against the onslaught of sensation.

But Elena wasn’t having that.

“Don’t close your eyes,” she whispered. Her voice was low, sensual, and commanding.

Daniel felt her pull back slightly, the air cooling where her warmth had been.

“Look at me,” she said.

The words were a tether, snapping him back.

Daniel’s head jerked up, his eyes heavy-lidded but obedient, locking onto her.

Elena, without breaking eye contact, reached behind herself and unhooked her bra with a deft flick of her fingers.

The silk slid away from her body and dropped to the floor with a whisper.

And then she was fully revealed.

To say her breasts were beautiful was an injustice. They were breathtaking, full and heavy, defiant against her smaller frame, framed perfectly by the warm, caramel tone of her skin. Her nipples were darker still, small, tight with arousal, the contrast so vivid it felt almost indecent to stare.

But Daniel did. He couldn’t look away if he tried.

Elena smiled, slow and knowing, as if she could feel the exact moment he forgot how to breathe.

“That’s better,” she murmured.

Two women were currently having their way with him, and Daniel still couldn’t quite believe his luck.

A low, ragged groan slipped from his throat as Vivian’s mouth found him again, her tongue wrapping around his length with devastating precision. She moved like a woman who knew exactly what she was doing, no hesitation, no mercy, savoring him as if he were hers by right.

Daniel’s hips twitched, his hands still locked at his sides by sheer will alone. He didn’t dare move without permission.

Elena watched from her place beside him, half-naked and wholly regal, a lazy, wicked smile curling her lips. She ran her hands over his torso, nails lightly raking down his chest, her touch feather-light and maddening.

“Look at you,” she purred. “Fighting so hard to be good.”

Vivian hummed in agreement around him, the vibration making Daniel jerk slightly, a strangled moan escaping before he could catch it.

Elena next to Vivian, her breast being used to tease Daniel, “Just imagine what these could do to you,” she whispered.

Daniel gasped, his answer for what he would like with Elena’s bust.

Vivian pulled back, a slick, obscene sound following her as she released him from her mouth. She wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, the gesture almost demure, if not for the heat burning in her ice-blue eyes. “Breathe, counselor,” she said softly. “You’re going to need it.”

Without ceremony, she reached behind her back and unhooked her brassiere. Vivian’s body was different from Elena’s, slimmer, more sculpted, but she was no less arresting. Her ivory skin gleamed in the dim light, and her breasts, small and perky, were crowned with soft, rose-tinted nipples. There was nothing tentative about her nudity; she owned it, presented it like a weapon she knew how to wield.

Daniel barely had a second to admire her before Elena claimed his attention once more.

She pressed her body against him, her full, warm breasts sliding along the rigid length of his cock with slow, devastating deliberation.

Daniel let out a raw groan, hips straining upward instinctively. He was almost certain some poor, overworked lawyer somewhere had dreamed of this exact scenario, and hell, a part of him still half-believed he was dreaming it now.

Elena moved with expert rhythm, trapping him between the soft swell of her breasts, the friction both maddening and exquisite. Vivian knelt beside her, watching with predatory satisfaction, her fingertips idly stroking Daniel’s thigh, a silent reminder that he was still under their complete control.

It didn’t take long.

Daniel felt the climax cresting through him, uncontrollable, electric.

He gave a low, broken groan, his body shuddering as he came, hot and hard, spilling across Elena’s chest, the sight so filthy, so beautiful, it nearly undid him a second time.

Elena smiled, slow and indulgent, as she wiped a trail of him from her skin with one finger and licked it clean without breaking eye contact.

Vivian laughed under her breath a soft dangerous sound. as she leaned in closer.

“And that,” she said, voice purring against his ear, “was just the beginning.”