Chapter 36: The Study's Aftermath
Aidan heard the footsteps pause, then fade. A cold clarity washed over him, cutting through the post-sex haze. Lucia felt him tense. Her satisfied expression flickered, replaced by uncertainty.
“What is it?” she whispered.
Before he could answer, the door handle turned. Not the tentative twist of someone checking if it was locked. This was deliberate, smooth. The door swung inward.
Catriona stood silhouetted in the dim light from the hallway. She wore a silk robe the colour of crushed wine, tied loosely at her waist. Her auburn hair was down, cascading over her shoulders. She didn’t look shocked. She didn’t look angry. Her sharp green eyes took in the scene: Lucia naked and glistening on the edge of his desk, Aidan standing between her parted legs, the room thick with the musk of sex and spilled bourbon.
Lucia made a small, choked sound and tried to cover herself, crossing her arms over her breasts.
“Don’t,” Catriona said, her voice calm, almost melodic. She stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her. The click of the latch was final. “There’s no point now, sweetheart.”
She moved into the room with the quiet confidence of a curator entering her own gallery. Her gaze swept over the discarded files, the toppled glass, the dark stain on the rug. It lingered on the desk, on the smeared evidence between Lucia’s thighs.
Aidan found his voice, but it was rough, stripped bare. “Cat…”
“I thought I heard something.” She cut him off, not looking at him yet. She stopped beside the desk. “A commotion. I was concerned.” A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. “It seems you were having a very… intense tutorial.”
Lucia trembled, her eyes darting from Catriona to Aidan, seeking guidance, finding none.
Catriona reached out. Not towards Aidan. Towards the desk. She extended a single, elegant finger and traced it slowly through the mess on the polished oak. She lifted her fingertip, studying the viscous fluid in the lamplight. Then, holding Lucia’s terrified gaze, she brought her finger to her mouth and slowly sucked it clean.
Lucia’s breath hitched.
“Good girl,” Catriona murmured, her voice dropping to a husky register Aidan hadn’t heard in years. “You did very well for your first time.” She finally turned her head to look at Aidan. Her eyes were bright, alive with a fierce, hungry intelligence. There was no accusation in them. Only a deep, simmering approval. “She learns fast, doesn’t she?”
Aidan could only nod, his mind reeling. This wasn’t the confrontation he’d braced for. This was something else entirely. Something that twisted his guilt into a sharp, new shape.
“I think,” Catriona said, turning her full attention back to Lucia, “such a diligent student deserves a reward. Don’t you, Aidan?”
She placed a hand on Lucia’s bare shoulder. Her touch was gentle, but it held an undeniable authority. “Get on your knees, Lucia. Right here.”
Lucia looked at Aidan, a silent question in her eyes. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. This was Catriona’s domain now. He was just a component in it.
Lucia slid off the desk, her legs wobbly. She knelt on the Persian rug, the rough weave against her bare knees. She looked up, her face level with Aidan’s groin. He was still semi-hard, but under the twin forces of her wide-eyed stare and Catriona’s commanding presence, he felt himself thickening, lengthening again with a swift, brutal urgency.
Catriona came to stand behind Lucia, looking over the girl’s head at her husband’s burgeoning erection. A soft, breathy sound escaped her. “Look at that. Eager for more already. He’s insatiable once he starts.” She placed her hands on Lucia’s shoulders. “You took him inside you so beautifully. Now take him in your mouth. Learn the taste of him.”
Lucia leaned forward, her inexperience evident in the tentative way she opened her lips. She licked the head, a tentative flick of her tongue. Her eyes widened at the taste—salty, musky, uniquely him, mixed with her own essence. A shiver ran through her.
“Use your hands, too,” Catriona instructed softly, her own breathing becoming audible. “Guide him. Don’t be afraid. He likes to feel you explore.”
Lucia’s small hands wrapped around his base, her fingers not meeting. She took him into her mouth, an inch, then two, gagging slightly before pulling back, her eyes watering.
“Shhh, just breathe through your nose. Slow.” Catriona’s voice was a hypnotic whisper. One of her hands left Lucia’s shoulder and slipped inside her own robe, moving slowly. Her gaze was locked on the junction of her husband’s cock and the young girl’s lips. “That’s it. Such a good girl. So clever with your mouth.”
The praise seemed to ignite something in Lucia. She dove back in with renewed determination, her movements becoming less clumsy, more rhythmic. The wet, sucking sounds filled the silent study, underscored by Catriona’s soft, approving murmurs and the increasingly ragged sound of her own touch.
Aidan braced a hand against the desk, the other tangling in Lucia’s dark hair, not forcing, just holding. The visual was utterly surreal: his wife, watching with rapt, aroused fascination as her nineteen-year-old cleaner’s sister learned to give him head on the floor of his study. Catriona’s robe gaped open, and he saw her palm moving in slow circles over herself, her lips parted.
“She’s a natural, Aidan,” Catriona breathed, her voice thick. “Look at her. So hungry for it. She wanted to understand, and now she does, doesn’t she?”
Lucia moaned around him, the vibration travelling straight to his core. Her free hand drifted between her own legs, mimicking Catriona’s motions.
“Yes, touch yourself,” Catriona urged, her composure beginning to fray at the edges. “Feel what you’re doing to him. Feel what you’re doing to me.”
The scene tipped from instruction into a frantic, shared crescendo. Lucia’s pace increased, her gag reflex conquered by sheer desire. Catriona’s whispers became filthy, explicit, graphic descriptions of what was happening, what she was seeing, what she wanted to see next. Aidan felt the pressure build, a coil tightening beyond endurance.
Catriona saw it. “In her mouth,” she commanded, her voice cracking. “Let her have it. All of it.”
The order, delivered with such possessive certainty, shattered him. He came with a gut-deep groan, his release pumping into Lucia’s willing mouth. She took it, swallowing convulsively, a few stray drops escaping down her chin.
For a moment, the only sound was their collective breathing.
Catriona withdrew her hand from her robe, looking flushed, utterly satisfied. She leaned down and smoothed Lucia’s hair. “Perfect,” she whispered. Then she looked up at Aidan, her green eyes holding his with an eerie, warm calm. “We’ll clean this up in the morning. All of us.”
She straightened her robe, tied the belt firmly, and turned to leave. At the door, she paused, glancing back at them. Lucia was still on her knees, dazed, wiping her chin. Aidan was slumped against the desk, spent and utterly bewildered.
“Oh, and Lucia?” Catriona said, her tone shifting back to its usual, polished warmth. “Welcome to the family.”
She left, pulling the door closed behind her. The silence she left in her wake was heavier, more profound, and infinitely more dangerous than before.