Three Means 1

Interruptions

(A/N: Warning: This chapter has very strong language and detailed sexual descriptions)

    "What are you doing?" Angelo's voice broke the silence, and Dulce turned her gaze sharply towards him.

    "Pierre has the least clothes on. Does that not warrant some form of punishment?" she inquired, her tone laced with frustration as she rolled her eyes.

    "No, I never suggested there would be any punishment involved. And if there were, you would be the one receiving it, as you would have the least clothing on once those panties are removed," Angelo corrected her with a smug grin, but Dulce was not having it.

    She strode purposefully towards Pierre, rotating his chair to face her. His gaze darted everywhere but towards her, revealing his nervousness. She gently lifted his chin with her fingers, forcing him to look at her.

    "Why don't you do it for me, hm?" she murmured, her eyes drifting to his lips.

    Pierre took a deep breath, clearly unprepared for her boldness. "W-what?" he stammered, his knee bouncing with tension.

    Without another word, she guided his hand, hooking his fingers around the waistband of her panties. Pierre opened his mouth, perhaps to remind her of their earlier conversation on the stairs, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

    "Quiet, and take them off," she commanded softly.

    Pierre complied, sliding her panties down to her ankles with his fingers, but he kept his gaze firmly on hers.

    "Angelo, leave us," Dulce demanded, a newfound assertiveness propelling her actions.

    "For what? We are not finished," Angelo protested, though his eyes betrayed his understanding of what was about to transpire. He didn't want it to happen.

    "I will not ask again," Dulce replied, a steely determination in her voice.

    Angelo looked between Pierre and Dulce, his frustration evident, but she paid him no mind. After a tense moment, Angelo conceded, leaving the room without further objection.

    Dulce waited until she heard the distant sound of a door closing before proceeding. She placed her hands on Pierre's shoulders, nudging his thighs apart with her knee, positioning herself between his legs, close to his growing arousal.

    Pierre shuddered, breaking eye contact. "I don't think we should be doing this," he whispered.

    "Do you not desire me?" Dulce leaned in, her lips brushing his neck with soft kisses.

    "I—I do. I want you more than anything," he confessed, his voice trembling. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer. Dulce wrapped her thighs around his waist, settling on his lap, her lips hovering near his ear.

    "Then be a good boy for me, yes?" she whispered.

    Pierre exhaled shakily, his hips thrusting forward slightly. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, sending a thrill through her body.

    "You're so hard for me," she breathed, beginning to gyrate her hips against his bulge. Pierre's grip on her waist tightened, his head falling back against the chair as his breathing grew heavier.

    "You move so well," he moaned. Dulce captured his lips in a fervent kiss, swallowing his moans as their tongues entwined. After a moment, she broke the kiss, keeping her lips close to his, maintaining eye contact as she increased the intensity of her movements.

    "I'm so wet right now," she whispered, one hand encircling his neck. She tightened her grip slightly, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

    A sudden knock at the door brought her to an abrupt halt. She released his lips and her hand from his neck.

    "Fuck, please, don't stop," Pierre groaned, trying to guide her hips with his hands. Dulce placed a hand over his mouth, silencing him.

    "Hush," she ordered, remaining still and alert.

    The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.

    Reluctantly, Dulce unwrapped her legs from around Pierre and stood. She retrieved her panties from the floor and put them on, hurrying to the door to confirm the source of the knocking.

    It continued persistently.

    She darted back to the dining room, where Pierre was hastily dressing, and grabbed her discarded dress, pulling it on. She hurried back to the front door and peered through the peephole.

    Her heart sank.

    It was Arthur.