TANGLED IN THE BAELAFORTS AFFAIR - F!CK, YOU'RE SOAKED
Elioza Red.
Fucking a Baelafort is something I never knew I would do.
Mom said I would have a good time living with them, but I’ve always seen them as trouble. Bad trouble. Especially the first twins.
Dragging myself out of the taxi, I sling my tiny bag across my chest.
This isn’t my first time stepping into the Baelafort compound, so I recognize the brownish castle at first glance. Three stories. Built with brick. Absolutely aesthetic.
“Welcome, Ms. Red,” the housekeeper greets as I walk past her at the door.
Inside the building has changed a lot, but before I have the time to take it all in, a body crashes into mine, causing me to stumble backward.
Two arms wrap around my neck as the body presses into me, my nose dug into a neck that smells of lavender and mint.
Since whoever it is refuses to let go, I forcefully break away from the hug to meet face to face with a girl the same height as me.
She’s blonde and curvy and wears sparkling makeup, which fits her bright demeanor.
I do appreciate the warm welcome, but I think I’ve forgotten so much about this person.
Her hair and her sky blue eyes are the only things that tell me she’s one of the second twins, whose names I can’t remember.
“Elioza, right?” she asks. I nod, earning a giggle. “Your name is stuck in my mind. Mama informed us you were coming. We’ve been waiting.”
She steps aside for me to see her twin sitting in the huge living room with a book. Then there’s a very curious girl standing a few feet away from me, staring at my face so intently that her eyes could bore holes in my skin.
Although I still can’t recall her name, I know the twin who hugged me is the one I was close to the first time I came here.
She was as bright as a sunny day, while the reading one had a pact with shadows... and was my worst nightmare.
“You remember Cainan, don’t you?” the bright one asks me while pointing to her twin. I nod. “You may have forgotten, but I’m Dedan.” She gestures to the curious one. “This is Finesse. She and her twin will be teenagers next month.”
“Cool. Hi.” I mutter, presenting a high-five gesture to the child, who acknowledges it.
“Follow me,” she says immediately, attempting to walk away.
I hesitate and look at Dedan.
“Where are you taking her to?” the latter asks in my defense.
Finesse shrugs. “To show her my new collection of Jung Kook mannequins.”
Dedan chortles. “She’s not into K-pop, dummy!”
Finesse shrugs again and continues walking. “You don’t say!”
Hesitantly following her, I notice she seems as bubbly as Dedan, talking without a break while leading me enthusiastically up the stairs and through a corridor.
“Do you have an idea what my idol is like?” she asks at some point.
I look at her nervously, realizing I hadn’t been listening to her chatter.
“I guess you don’t,” she replies after gauging my reaction. “Well, he’s interesting… and more unique than anyone I’ve ever known. I want to attend the ongoing BTS concert, but Papa doesn’t approve.” Her expression dims as her voice goes down. “He never has.”
Finesse suddenly stops and opens a door. “Here we are.”
She doesn’t go in, but stretches her hand into the room for me to do so
Once I do, the first thing I set my eyes on is the laptop on the table across the door.
One moment, I’m surprised by what’s playing on the screen; the next moment, the door slams shut, and I swerve around in shock to find that Finesse is gone.
I quickly pull the door by the handle, but it won’t open. So I knock on it. “Finesse, what’s up? Open the door!”
Silence.
No panicking. No screaming. I’ve gone through s**t like this in boarding school to the point I can’t be arsed by it anymore.
I check outside the window to find I’m on the second floor, so it’s not too high.
If I can’t find a key to the door in one of these drawers, I may have to climb down the window through several tied sheets—unless Finesse is done having her fun and opens the door.
I try to check the drawers, but the laptop is distracting. Now I find myself standing before it with deep attention.
Porn. Intense, male-domineering, sweaty porn.
I can easily tell the woman being drilled is having the best f*****g time of her life, which is why I quickly rewind the video to the part where the brunette lady pushes him back onto the bed, her eyes dark with hunger as she straddles his thighs.
His huge hands grip her hips hard enough to leave marks before pulling her down so she can feel how rock-hard he already is beneath her.
“f**k, you're soaked,” he growls while sliding two thick fingers between her slick folds to tease her c**t in slow circles.
She moans, grinding against his hand, her t**s bouncing with every roll of her hips.
Soon, she reaches down to wrap her fingers around his throbbing c**k and strokes him from base to tip. Then she rubs her thumb on his swollen head, smearing his leaking precum on it.
“I need you inside me,” she whispers while looking at the man from beneath her lashes. “Now.”
Something in me snaps at that—self-control and discipline. I find my thighs pressing together as I make a vain effort to ignore how sensitive I’m feeling down there.
Since it can’t be helped, I grab a chair to sit in, thighs spread apart, and hand sliding into my pants.