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For almost a week, they settled into a routine that involved her n***d in bed with Ryske every night, and her laughing at him for trying every way he knew how to get inside her, literally. His patience was stretched so thin that he seemed to be in a perpetual bad mood with her.
Harlow hadn’t let them go further than oral. Each morning, he got his in the shower. The closest thing they got to privacy was behind those steamy glass walls. It was amazing how quickly she’d become accustomed to their living arrangements and how the men just walked into the bathroom whenever they felt like it, whether she or Ryske were in the midst of o****m or not.
Bedtime was harder. In the intimacy of the small hours, she didn’t talk to Ryske about what he’d said. Because she was aware of the other men sl
