Chapter 26: The Sister's Initiation
The air in the room didn’t just feel charged; it felt proprietary, like it belonged to Catriona. Her command hung between them, a starting pistol no one dared to ignore.
Jenny moved first. She approached Aidan with a certainty that still made his stomach flip. This was her domain now. She untied the belt of his robe, her fingers brushing his abdomen, and pushed the fabric off his shoulders. It pooled on the rug at his feet. The afternoon light traced the lines of his torso, the salt-and-pepper hair on his chest, the undeniable, heavy weight of him already stirring back to life.
“See?” Jenny said, her voice low, meant for Lucia but her eyes were on Aidan. “He responds. Always. It’s just a matter of how.”
She dropped to her knees, her movement fluid and practiced. She didn’t take him in her mouth immediately. Instead, she leaned forward, nuzzling the inside of his thigh, placing a soft kiss there. She was demonstrating pacing, the art of the tease. Aidan’s hand found its way to her hair, not guiding, just resting, a point of contact.
Lucia watched, her arms wrapped around herself. Her face was a mask of focused concentration, like she was in a lecture hall trying to memorize a complex formula.
“Your turn,” Catriona said from the sofa. Not harsh, but firm. An educator. “Start with your hands. Jenny, show her the pressure.”
Jenny sat back on her heels, letting go. She reached up and took Lucia’s wrist, pulling her gently forward. Lucia sank to her knees beside Jenny, the plush rug soft against her skin. Jenny guided her sister’s hand.
“Not like a handle,” Jenny murmured. “Like you’re… assessing. Feeling the weight, the heat. He likes to be acknowledged first.”
Lucia’s touch was feather-light at first, a tremulous sketch. Then, as she closed her fingers, it firmed. Aidan inhaled sharply. The contrast was electrifying—Jenny’s knowing expertise and Lucia’s raw, untutored exploration. Lucia’s thumb brushed over the tip, already slick, and she glanced up at his face, checking for a reaction.
“Good,” Aidan grunted. The word was ripped out of him.
Encouraged, Lucia’s other hand came up, cupping him, learning the sheer size of him. Her medical student’s brain seemed to click on, a clinical fascination mixing with the sheer eroticism of the act. “The vascularity is…” she whispered, more to herself than anyone.
Jenny smiled a little at that. “Just feel it, Luce. Don’t diagram it.”
Catriona sipped her champagne. “Now the mouth, Lucia. Jenny will talk you through it. Aidan, you will not finish yet. You will hold back. This is about her education.”
A command within a command. Aidan felt the strain immediately, the need to obey layering over the building pressure in his groin. Control, his old pride, was now a game he played for their amusement.
Jenny leaned close to her sister’s ear, her voice a soft, technical murmur. “Lips over teeth, always. Use your tongue flat against that vein underneath. He likes it when you take him deep, but you have to relax your throat. Here, watch me.”
Jenny demonstrated, taking the head of him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks with a slow, deliberate suction that made Aidan’s knees buckle. She pulled off with a soft pop. “Your turn. Just the first few inches. Get used to the feel.”
Lucia, emboldened, bent forward. Her first attempt was clumsy, too quick, and she gagged slightly, pulling back. She blinked, embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Jenny soothed. “Slow. Just the tip. Taste him.”
Lucia tried again, slower this time. Her lips parted, and she took him into the warmth of her mouth. Aidan saw her dark eyelashes flutter closed. A low, involuntary sound escaped her, a hum of discovery that vibrated through him. Her tongue moved, tentative at first, then with more purpose, copying what she’d felt and seen.
Catriona was a silent, potent audience. Aidan caught her gaze over the heads of the two women. Her green eyes were dark, her free hand idly tracing the neckline of her silk blouse. She was utterly captivated.
Jenny continued her quiet coaching. “Now use your hand with your mouth. Like this. Keep a rhythm. He’ll get thicker, harder. You’ll feel him pulse when he’s close.”
Lucia obeyed, her movements gaining a hesitant rhythm. The slick, wet sounds filled the silent spaces in the room. Aidan’s world narrowed to sensations: the dual pressure of two sets of hands, the wet heat of Lucia’s novice mouth, the expert flick of Jenny’s tongue on a spot just behind, the dizzying visual of the two sisters, dark heads bowed together, working in tandem over his body.
“He’s close, Cat,” Jenny said, her voice ragged. She was watching Aidan’s body, the telltale tension in his thighs, the shallow hitch of his breath.
“Lucia,” Catriona said. “Finish it. All of it. Don’t waste a drop.”
There was no hesitation this time. Lucia deepened her take, her throat working, her nose pressed against his skin. Jenny’s hand guided her sister’s, the pace turning urgent, relentless. Aidan’s control shattered. A guttural shout was torn from him as his hips jerked forward. Lucia’s eyes flew open in surprise at the force, but she held on, swallowing convulsively as Catriona’s quiet, fervent “Yes…” curled through the air from the sofa.
The climax seemed to drain the last of the afternoon’s light. Aidan swayed, putting a hand on Jenny’s shoulder to steady himself. Lucia pulled back, gasping, a stray trickle escaping the corner of her lips. She wiped it with the back of her hand, looking dazed, forever changed.
For a long moment, the only sound was their collective breathing.
Catriona set her empty glass down with a definitive click. She stood and walked over, a queen inspecting her subjects. She placed a hand on Lucia’s flushed cheek. “You passed.”
Lucia leaned into the touch, her eyes closing for a second.
Then Catriona looked at Aidan, who felt completely and utterly conquered. She kissed his shoulder, a possessive brand. “See? Integration.” Her gaze swept over Jenny, who was watching Lucia with a soft, unreadable expression. “Everyone has a role. Everyone gets what they need.”
Aidan looked at the three of them—his wife, his lover, and now her sister, initiated—and felt the last solid ground of his old life crumble away into the deep, welcoming abyss of this new one. The ritual was no longer a proposal. It was a fact. The house held them all now, its clean lines and tasteful furniture bearing silent witness to the messy, hungry organism they had become.
Catriona straightened, business-like again. “I’m ordering food. Thai. We’ll need our strength.” She smiled, a real one, warm and inclusive. “The game is over for today. Now, we just eat.”
The sheer normality of it was the most shocking thing of all. As Catriona fetched her phone, Jenny helped a wobbly Lucia to her feet. Aidan bent to pick up his robe, his body humming with exhaustion and a profound, unsettling satisfaction.
Sunday was just beginning.