Hey he's not saying she'd have done any ditching, just that he'd notice her. But at least she keeps him more or less quiet - not silent, but without words, and we'll muffled. Nothing to muffle his thighs smacking into her ass though.
And nothing for the sneeze that escaped his brother either, no matter how much he tries to and pretends to be asleep.
Paloma can't eliminate the sound of her breathing, its hitches and high upticks when his thickness hammers at the right spot. This is why she let him convince her, didn't refuse him even with Jekyll resting beside them.
Jekyll--
The sneeze breaks her rhythm, all reciprocation of Hyde's thrusting quite literally grinding to a halt. She clutches at him, staring bug-eyed up at the mattress edge. Did he? Is he??
Maybe he did, maybe he is, it's fine! He's not going to interrupt!
It doesn't seem to bother Hyde at all though, if he's even noticed it (he has, but considering Jekyll's already walked in on them, and besides which, they've fucked and had threeways, it's really nothing to be embarrassed about). When she stops, that's what's really distressing. But he doesn't just give up, her ear gets a bite, he insists, unrelenting. "Hey, down here."
A persuasive tactic! Yet insufficient to allay her nerves, especially her shame. Paloma isn't an exhibitionist? Probably? Until now she never thought of it, it has never been in her vocabulary--
She puts a hand over his damp fool mouth, "Ssh!" God. That was one hundred percent a sneeze, meaning...
"Ohmigod." Her skin prickles, her stomach flips and she might really get sick.
"You shush, who cares?" He raises his voice, "do you care, Harry?"
There's a long pause as he debates answering at all, but ultimately, they definitely know he's awake now, so he manages to squeak out, "No, of course not!"
Two days ago Henry Jekyll, classy modern nobility and patron to the exhibition her boss might've killed a man to get approved, gentleman, let Paloma scribble her number on his arm. He hadn't imagined she would sleep with his brother, twice, above his head and then beside him as he's trying to get a good night's rest. With implicit permission, sure. Irrelevant.
She could kill herself to save Veronica the trouble. Nauseated by her selfishness and destructive stupidity, Paloma wheezes dejectedly and falls right off of Edward's lap. Dick. It pops out and she crawls backward on her elbows, working herself up into a real upset; "No no no, I'm sorry!"
Hyde grumbles and curses under his breath, he was so enjoying himself, why did his dumb brother have to go and ruin it by waking up?
"There's no need to apologise!" He pulls the blankets up over his head so she can't see him and so be tempted to sit with him or anything silly like that! Hyde meanwhile crawls forward on his hands and knees to her.
They must not understand, she thinks. She's convinced. Edward may not care whatsoever but Henry either just wants to avoid making a scene or hasn't realized the depths of her depravity. Yes, that must be it. He doesn't get how vapid and heartless she is for behaving in this way.
Paloma keeps the horny younger twin at bay with a foot planted against his chest, upset blossoming into tearful remorse. "Yes there is! This isn't okay and I knew it wasn't okay and you don't have to act like it is," she warbles, "it's not just him!"
Two are required for tango. She wonders if anyone is awake to see her bolt through the outside hall.
"Not just him?" What does she even mean by that, he's pretty sure she hasn't slept with anyone else in the brief time they've courted. It's not like she would have even had the time?
The other one flops against her leg, utterly pathetic, erection pressed against the floor.
"Not just him who's responsible," Paloma is just too happy to elaborate, now ashamed of her inability to keep from dramatics. Not only is she a stupid slut, she's a dumb ho who cries at the drop of a hat, private parts one huge wet ache and her bare foot on the other slut she's blue-balling.
She tugs the hem of Edward's shirt down over the evidence of their short-lived fucking. "I-I gotta sleep somewhere else." Not seeing or thinking very coherently, she climbs to her feet on wobbly legs and can't bear to look at either of them before escaping through their fine, elegant doorway. Pitter-pattering steps retreat along with her, until a distant door clicks open and then shut.
Time to lock herself in and cry more, like idiot sluts should.
Nooo, noooooo, this is not as planned. Jekyll gets up, but before he can manage to follow, Hyde's grabbed his ankle to get his attention and try to beg some relief. Of course, Jekyll is offended by the very idea (at this particular moment), and storms off.
"Paloma?" He knocks at the door once he finds one closed, a tentative, gentle rap. "Are you alright...?"
Worse than embarrassing herself as she's done is making Jekyll believe she needs consolation for misbehaving. Worse than that is accepting consolation.
Quiet dominates the other side of the door. Paloma hasn't gotten farther than slumping at the base of the wood, crumpled in a heap of self-hating sluttiness.
"Yes," she says loudly and nasally. Plugged nose. Happens. Maybe he'll buy it. "You gan go bag to sleep!"
"No, I don't want to." He'll just sit there too then! "I really don't think you've done anything wrong, for what it's worth... I'm not even sure what you're supposed to have done wrong."
More quiet. Longer. Hard to argue with 'no, I don't want to'.
Paloma feels like she can't dare to look him in the eye after everything and who was inside her just a minute ago, but ruder still to force him to talk through a closed door. With her luck a servant or someone would wander upstairs to check on the noise, besides.
She wrestles with the doorknob and twists, creaking it open to reveal her prone position and guilty bloodshot eyes. "Ingonsideration. You didn't wanna take me out so I could jus' go and..."
He scoots in when the door opens, placing a hand on her back. "It wasn't exactly my intention, no, but nor did I think to myself 'I certainly hope this doesn't happen'. I only wanted to spend time with you, which I've had even more of than I'd hoped, which is very nice."
Carefully shutting it behind him, Paloma holds back another blubbering at his rather excessive kindness. Just because he's letting her off the hook doesn't mean she should follow suit.
"I wanted to-," she starts, biting her lip harshly and weathering a fresh heat in her eyes. Her fingers brush the tears away impatiently, angry at their persistence. She sniffs and clears her throat. "Have I spent time with you, though? It feels like it's all gone to Edward."
"He needs a little more attention than I do." True enough that he has to laugh a bit at that observation. "But yes, you have. Didn't we spend all night together? I've really been enjoying it."
His laughter wins him a sad little giggle, albeit wet.
Paloma rethinks the evening, skipping the racy bits. He's not completely off the mark, but...
"I also enjoy you a-and learning more," she says in desolate earnestness. Her hands tug at each other. "What you work toward, why you helped me and Veronica. What makes you laugh. What moves you. But I haven't shown you, have I?"
"You don't think so? I do, you've been enthusiastic and attentive." Even when learning things no one should. Be looks down at her hands, and finally cups them between his own.
They're shaking until they can't anymore because he's captured them, caught her. Her cheeks feel at once cold and ablaze.
"I was so sure I'd destroyed your image of me." Whatever it was, it couldn't have been of this wanton girl or her emotional fragility. She swallows past a hiccup. "I mean... I woke up and he was already...?" Don't make her say that his brother was eating her awake. "I could've put my foot down. Obviously."
"No, I certainly understand! Do you think I'm in any position to judge?" He should be the one apologising for being a shameful slut. At least what she's doing isn't morally reprehensible and illegal.
At the reminder of their incestuous proclivities-- she'd somehow forgotten-- Paloma shuts up and instinctively tries to tug on her fingers again, stopped by his gentle hold.
"Mm," she acknowledges, mulberry-faced and avoiding his eyes. At the very least the tears have dried out. "Just... when I'm home, I-I want you to have something to remember me for that isn't doing Edward while you're trying to sleep."
"I have plenty to remember you for, and I intend to keep it more than only memory, of you wouldn't mind a visit..." Although it is true he would prefer not accidentally listening in on them.
Paloma sees Jekyll in her mind's eye, lost in the middle of Mexico City with a sweater vest and practically oozing pesos. It makes her want to protect him, to keep him indoors and well-fed in the meanwhile.
She cracks a smile. "If you wouldn't mind the mosquitoes." He's very pink. Her head bows. "Yes, I'd love to see you there more than anything I can think of right now." So... here's to hoping he won't lose interest.
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And nothing for the sneeze that escaped his brother either, no matter how much he tries to and pretends to be asleep.
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Jekyll--
The sneeze breaks her rhythm, all reciprocation of Hyde's thrusting quite literally grinding to a halt. She clutches at him, staring bug-eyed up at the mattress edge. Did he? Is he??
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It doesn't seem to bother Hyde at all though, if he's even noticed it (he has, but considering Jekyll's already walked in on them, and besides which, they've fucked and had threeways, it's really nothing to be embarrassed about). When she stops, that's what's really distressing. But he doesn't just give up, her ear gets a bite, he insists, unrelenting. "Hey, down here."
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She puts a hand over his damp fool mouth, "Ssh!" God. That was one hundred percent a sneeze, meaning...
"Ohmigod." Her skin prickles, her stomach flips and she might really get sick.
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There's a long pause as he debates answering at all, but ultimately, they definitely know he's awake now, so he manages to squeak out, "No, of course not!"
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Two days ago Henry Jekyll, classy modern nobility and patron to the exhibition her boss might've killed a man to get approved, gentleman, let Paloma scribble her number on his arm. He hadn't imagined she would sleep with his brother, twice, above his head and then beside him as he's trying to get a good night's rest. With implicit permission, sure. Irrelevant.
She could kill herself to save Veronica the trouble. Nauseated by her selfishness and destructive stupidity, Paloma wheezes dejectedly and falls right off of Edward's lap. Dick. It pops out and she crawls backward on her elbows, working herself up into a real upset; "No no no, I'm sorry!"
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"There's no need to apologise!" He pulls the blankets up over his head so she can't see him and so be tempted to sit with him or anything silly like that! Hyde meanwhile crawls forward on his hands and knees to her.
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Paloma keeps the horny younger twin at bay with a foot planted against his chest, upset blossoming into tearful remorse. "Yes there is! This isn't okay and I knew it wasn't okay and you don't have to act like it is," she warbles, "it's not just him!"
Two are required for tango. She wonders if anyone is awake to see her bolt through the outside hall.
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The other one flops against her leg, utterly pathetic, erection pressed against the floor.
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She tugs the hem of Edward's shirt down over the evidence of their short-lived fucking. "I-I gotta sleep somewhere else." Not seeing or thinking very coherently, she climbs to her feet on wobbly legs and can't bear to look at either of them before escaping through their fine, elegant doorway. Pitter-pattering steps retreat along with her, until a distant door clicks open and then shut.
Time to lock herself in and cry more, like idiot sluts should.
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"Paloma?" He knocks at the door once he finds one closed, a tentative, gentle rap. "Are you alright...?"
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Quiet dominates the other side of the door. Paloma hasn't gotten farther than slumping at the base of the wood, crumpled in a heap of self-hating sluttiness.
"Yes," she says loudly and nasally. Plugged nose. Happens. Maybe he'll buy it. "You gan go bag to sleep!"
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Paloma feels like she can't dare to look him in the eye after everything and who was inside her just a minute ago, but ruder still to force him to talk through a closed door. With her luck a servant or someone would wander upstairs to check on the noise, besides.
She wrestles with the doorknob and twists, creaking it open to reveal her prone position and guilty bloodshot eyes. "Ingonsideration. You didn't wanna take me out so I could jus' go and..."
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"I wanted to-," she starts, biting her lip harshly and weathering a fresh heat in her eyes. Her fingers brush the tears away impatiently, angry at their persistence. She sniffs and clears her throat. "Have I spent time with you, though? It feels like it's all gone to Edward."
And that can't be right.
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Paloma rethinks the evening, skipping the racy bits. He's not completely off the mark, but...
"I also enjoy you a-and learning more," she says in desolate earnestness. Her hands tug at each other. "What you work toward, why you helped me and Veronica. What makes you laugh. What moves you. But I haven't shown you, have I?"
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"I was so sure I'd destroyed your image of me." Whatever it was, it couldn't have been of this wanton girl or her emotional fragility. She swallows past a hiccup. "I mean... I woke up and he was already...?" Don't make her say that his brother was eating her awake. "I could've put my foot down. Obviously."
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"Mm," she acknowledges, mulberry-faced and avoiding his eyes. At the very least the tears have dried out. "Just... when I'm home, I-I want you to have something to remember me for that isn't doing Edward while you're trying to sleep."
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She cracks a smile. "If you wouldn't mind the mosquitoes." He's very pink. Her head bows. "Yes, I'd love to see you there more than anything I can think of right now." So... here's to hoping he won't lose interest.
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