Master of salt & bones

I can’t come.

“Lucian? What’s wrong?” Her fingertips slide down my hairline, and I snap my head away, irritated by the distraction.

Frustrated, I pull out of her and slide the condom off, tossing it to the floor, and furiously pump my dick with my own hand.

Still nothing.

I dip my fingers up inside of her, where the remnants of her climax leaves a warm sticky coating on my skin, and hold it to my nose, breathing in the smell of her pussy.

Nothing.

“Fuck!” Humiliation gets the best of me, the anger swelling inside of me as my cock turns flaccid.

“Do you want me to suck on it?”

“No.” I rest my head in the crook of her neck, and half-heartedly stroke myself in a futile attempt to come. Disappointed, I still against her, giving one last squeeze to the limp flesh in my hands. Through the agony of missed climax, I tuck myself back into my pants and flick the chain beside me, flipping on the light in the closet.

Stray hairs stick out from Amelia’s up-do, the chiffon of her dress crinkled and disheveled. On the floor beside us lies a broken glass jar of some kind of cleaning fluid, the potent scent of which now fills the small closet space. The discarded condom and its wrapper sit in the pool of clear fluid, and I reach down to grab it, tossing both the condom and bits of broken glass into a nearby trash can that sits against the wall.

Once decent again, the two of us exit the closet and return to the party, neither one of us saying a word. As we enter the room, my mother spins away from a group of hens she’s been chatting with since the night began, and her eyes light up.

“Lucian! Your father’s been looking for you!” Her attention falls on Amelia. “And, Amelia, how nice to see you again, my dear. You look lovely in pink. Where have the two of you--” Eyes narrowed, her gaze turns appraising like she’s suddenly noticed the mess of Amelia’s hair. A subtle smile plays on her lips, and she clears her throat, the way she does when something makes her uncomfortable. “Amelia, darling, your father and I were discussing having you stay here at the manor for a few days. Would you like that?”

My blood freezes inside my veins, and I snap my gaze to Amelia, and back to my mother.

“Well, that’s very kind, but …” Amelia stammers, like she’s shy all of a sudden.

“Please. We’d be delighted to have you.” Tipping her head, my mother shoots me the same fake smile she reserves for the wives of my father’s friends. “Wouldn’t we, Lucian?”