Chapter 241: flicking
"I’m not saying it to be mean or bad or taboo! Gods, it was... it was hot, alright?" He forced a nervous laugh, edged with sincerity, his eyes flicking between them.
"I’ve never seen anything like that. I couldn’t look away."
The silence that followed was thick, charged with tension, the air crackling with the weight of his words.
Maris’s face flamed deeper, her lips trembling behind her hands.
Vela’s grip eased slightly, though her glare remained, her eyes searching his for any hint of deceit.
"So you think you can just... peep on us because it was ’hot’?" Vela growled, her voice low but laced with a reluctant curiosity, her cheeks faintly flushed despite her anger.
"No!" Lor said quickly, his hands still raised, his tone pleading.
"I shouldn’t have. But I swear—I’d never tell anyone." He leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes locking onto Vela’s.
"I mean... would anyone believe me? That the hottest moms in town were doing that to each other?"
Vela’s mouth opened, then shut, her glare faltering for a moment.
Maris made another strangled sound, her hands dropping slightly, her eyes peeking through her fingers, torn between shame and something else—something intrigued.
Lor pressed his advantage, slow and careful, his voice soft.
"Also look... you’ve got your daughters. Your neighbors. Your reputations. If word got out—"
"Don’t you dare—" Vela snapped, her hand tightening on his arm again, her green eyes flashing with warning.
"I won’t!" Lor cut her off, his voice urgent, his hands raised higher. He softened his tone, letting it turn pleading, almost reverent. "I wouldn’t. Because I... I like you too much."
That gave them pause, the words landing like a spark in dry grass.
Vela’s frown deepened, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"
Lor met her gaze, his hazel eyes steady now, burning with a quiet intensity.
"I mean I liked watching you. Both of you. I’ve thought about it before, but I never dreamed I’d actually..." He trailed off, letting his voice go hoarse, as if the memory overwhelmed him.
"I’d never tell anyone. Because then it’d stop. And I don’t want it to stop."
Maris peeked fully from behind her hands, her expression torn, her brown eyes wide and glistening.
"You little bastard," Vela muttered, but her voice had lost some of its fire, a faint flush creeping up her neck.
Lor leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.
"I swear, I won’t say a word. But..." He hesitated, biting his lip, then went for it, his tone careful but bold. "Maybe... instead of pretending this never happened, we could make a deal."
Vela stiffened, her eyes narrowing further.
"What kind of deal?" Her voice was low, cautious, but there was a spark of curiosity in it, a crack in her armor.
"The kind," Lor said slowly, his eyes flicking between them, lingering on Maris’s flushed cheeks, Vela’s toned frame, "where I keep your secret safe. And in return... I get to be a part of the secret."
The silence was electric, the air humming with unspoken possibilities.
Maris flushed down to her chest, her breath hitching as she whispered, "This is insane."
"Don’t even think—" Vela started, but Lor cut across, his voice gentle but laced with praise, not threat.
"You’re both incredible," he said, his breath hitching as if reliving the scene. "Gods, do you know what you looked like, with her bent over the sink and you..."
He trailed off, his eyes flicking to Vela, then Maris, letting the memory hang between them. "No girl my age even comes close to me. And I’m supposed to just forget I saw that?"
Vela faltered, her cheeks heating despite herself, her green eyes flickering with something new—intrigue, perhaps, or reluctant flattery.
Maris’s hands dropped to her sides, her fingers twisting nervously in her skirt, her breath uneven.
"I don’t want to ruin anything," Lor said quickly, his voice soft, almost pleading. "I just want... to enjoy it. With you. Both of you."
Maris looked at Vela, panic and curiosity warring in her brown eyes. "We can’t—"
"If he talks," Vela muttered, her jaw tight, her eyes still locked on Lor, "we’re finished."
"I won’t," Lor insisted, his voice firm, his eyes wide with sincerity. "I swear. This stays between us. I mean think about it. Why would I reveal it to anyone if I am involved in this too."
His words landed like a spark, igniting something in the air.
Maris’s thighs pressed together unconsciously, her breath hitching, while Vela’s lips curved into a reluctant smirk, her glare softening ever so slightly.
He could see it—the way their bodies betrayed them, the flush of their skin, the quickening of their breaths.
He stepped back, giving them space.
The silence stretched, heavy and charged, the kitchen thick with the scent of soap and sweat.
Maris bit her lip.
Vela’s green eyes bored into him, testing, weighing, her muscles tensing as if ready to shove him out the door—or pull him closer.
Finally, Vela muttered, her voice low and grudging, "You’re a fucking manipulative brat."
Lor’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his heart pounding with triumph. "Maybe. But I’m the only brat who knows what I know."
Another pause, the air crackling with tension. Maris’s hand trembled as she reached out, touching Vela’s arm, her voice barely a whisper. "Vela... maybe..."
Vela growled under her breath, her eyes never leaving Lor’s.
Then, with a sudden motion, she shoved him against the wall again, hard enough to make his breath leave him in a rush, his cock throbbing at the rough contact.
"You breathe a word outside these walls," she hissed, her face inches from his, her green eyes blazing, "and I’ll hunt you myself."
Lor grinned, his cock hard and straining, the thrill of her threat only fueling his arousal. "So that’s a yes?"
Vela’s smirk finally broke through her scowl, sharp and dangerous, a predator conceding to a worthy opponent.
"Fine," she spat, her voice rough with reluctant agreement. "We’ll fuck you. To shut you up."
Maris gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Vela!"
"He wanted a deal," Vela said, her glare still locked on Lor, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Now he’s got one."