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She was no longer trying to fight her way out.
She was no longer trying to escape us.
She was settling.
She was accepting.
And maybe, she was even finding comfort in our presence.
As I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her we would give hereverythingif it meant that this place would become her home, she beat me to it.
With pink high in her cheeks, she released a shaky breath, her eyes darting between either one of ours, before she closed them momentarily, filling her lungs with air. When she opened her eyes again, she took a step closer to us both, uncrossing her arms as she reached out to press her palms to the centre of our chests.
I didn’t dare to breathe.
And neither did Mikhail.
“I’ll kiss you both, if it means that you’ll bring me those things I’ve asked for.” And in an even quieter voice, she added, “And maybe, I’ll give you both something else. Something I should have given you both right from the very beginning.”
So after Mikhail and I had our fun, dropping to our knees to ravage that sweet pussy of hers, we got around to getting hereverythingshe had asked us for, and some more.
And when we surprised her with everything only a mere few hours after she had made the request, she looked at us both as if we had given her the world.
Her eyes were watery as she took it all in, and her fingers trembled as she reached for the sketchpad first, flipping through the crisp, blank pages. She went for the paints next, the fine brushes, and the books too. We even put in some new clothes as well as pretty pieces of lingerie.
She stared at everything with her lips parted in stunned silence.
She looked up at us both, at Mikhail, and at myself, as something unreadable flashed in her gaze before she moved.
It all happened so fast.
One moment she was standing there in front of us, lost for words, and then, she had rushed forward, both her arms thrown around either one of us, holding us both close to her body. Mikhail and I immediately wrapped our arms around her body on instinct, gripping her softly, feeling the warmth of her body against ours.
And then…
Her lips.
Soft.
Sweet.
Still a little uncertain, but still willing.
Chiara had kissed me first.
Mikhail shifted beside me, his presence thick with something dangerous, and something hungry. Then she had pulled away from me, turning over to him, reaching out for him as she pulled him in, pressing her lips to his for a kiss, just as sweet and soft as mine.
It wasn’t gratitude for what we had given her.
It was something more.
It was something raw.
When she had pulled away from us both with her cheeks flushed, and her breathing heavy, her eyes searched ours for something.
Acceptance.
Approval.