Soaked Wet for My Three Exes(a reverse harem story)

Darcelle's POV: Why have one man when you can have three? That’s the only thought in my head as Noah’s grip tightens, Steve’s mouth worships my thighs, and Josh’s teeth scrape my shoulder, each of them silently fighting to erase Christopher from my body, my mind, my skin. I arched between them, silk already half shredded, the backless dress now nothing more than ruined ribbons clinging to my waist. Noah’s mouth found mine again, devouring, tongue claiming every sound I tried to keep quiet. He tasted like whiskey and when he bit my lower lip hard enough to sting, I moaned loud enough that Steve laughed darkly against my thigh. “Still so fucking responsive,” Steve murmured, voice vibrating straight through my clit. He finally hooked two fingers into the soaked black lace and yanked the thong aside, exposing me completely. No preamble, no teasing. He buried his face between my legs like a man starved, tongue flat and relentless, lapping from entrance to clit in long, filthy str

Darcelle's POV: HR had three people from temp agencies waiting outside my office. Each held a stack of resumes. I just fired six staff, so I needed new ones fast. Empty desks wouldn't do. I pointed at the first one, a nervous guy in a cheap suit. "Show me resumes. I need admins who don't sleep with married men. Send them today. "He stuttered, then spread papers across my desk.The second rep, a smart woman in a blazer stepped up. "I have three good candidates. All checked, no issues." "Good. Send them by end of day," I said.The third guy just waited. I nodded at the door for him to leave. Twenty minutes later, the elevator dinged. Noah, Steve, and Josh walked in. No knock. They just came right in like they belonged. Noah wore dark pants with a contrasting shirt. Steve looked rich but relaxed. Josh's tattoos showed under his jacket. Staff outside stared through the glass walls, eyes wide. "Darcie," Noah said, eyes scanning the half empty floor, the reps packing up.

Darcelle's POV:The storm had faded to a gentle patter on the windows by the time we gathered our scattered clothes from the office floor. My legs wobbled beneath me, still weak from the intensity of it all, but Noah's strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist held me steady as we stepped into the elevator. The mirrored walls reflected our disheveled group, hair tousled, clothes hastily pulled on, faces flushed with a shared secret glow.“My villa’s the closest. Let’s head there,” Steve said, his voice low and decisive, breaking the hazy silence.Steve slid behind the wheel of his sleek black Range Rover. Lights streaked across the windshield like shooting stars, blurred by rain drop. No one spoke much. The quiet felt easy, thick with the warm satisfaction of bodies still remembering each touch. Josh sat in the back with me, his hand resting lightly on my knee, a silent anchor. Noah glanced over from the passenger seat now and then, his eyes catching mine in the rearview mirror wit

A soft sigh escaped me as my fingers brushed higher, over the damp lace of my panties. Already soaked. I pressed lightly, feeling the heat through the thin barrier, and closed my eyes. The TV faded to background moans, whispers but in my head it was Steve’s voice, low and teasing “Wet already?” Like he had in the office, kneeling between my legs, breath hot against my inner thigh.I hooked a finger under the lace, pulled it aside, exposing myself to the empty room. Cool air hit my slick folds and I shivered. I dipped one finger in, slow, circling my entrance, gathering the wetness. Steve’s tongue, God, his tongue. Flat and relentless, lapping from bottom to top, flicking my clit until my hips bucked. I mimicked it now, sliding my finger up to that sensitive nub, rubbing in slow, firm circles. Pleasure sparked, low and building, my breath hitching.Josh entered the fantasy then. Tall, scarred, his big hands cupping my breasts, thumbs rolling my nipples until they peaked hard. I use

Noah’s POVThe Bayfront Convention Center main hall was packed by 3:50 p.m. Eighteen hundred seats, every one filled. Lights were low on the floor, bright on the stage.Steve sat to my left, legs crossed, whiskey already in hand even though the bar wasn’t open yet. Josh was on my right, arms folded, looking for Darcelle. We’d claimed the front row VIP section as instructed by Darcelle. Perfect view.Darcelle walked out.Black heels and a perfectly designed suit. Her hair was up in a loose twist, a few strands framing her face. Red lipstick. She simply stood there, owning the silence.The crowd hushed instantly.She stepped to the podium, voice clear, no microphone tremble.“Good afternoon. I’m Darcelle Vance, CEO of Vance Enterprises. Two years ago I stood in a room much smaller than this and told my team we were going to build something the shipping world had never seen. Today I’m here to show you we kept our promise.”“And tomorrow, every client in this room who signs will be the fi