Текст книги "Crosstown Crush"
Автор книги: Cara McKenna
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mike was burning alive, every heartbeat pumping lava. He braced his shoulder against the door frame, so overheated his muscles felt weak and his mind foggy.
Sam and Bern were kissing on the bed – that man’s strong body braced atop her soft one, his hips moving with subtle strokes and her hands exploring him in return.
Mike knew those hands, and the admiring way they moved over Bern’s back and arms. She’s turned on. She wanted this man, as much as she wanted Mike.
Outside this space, Mike trusted that his primacy was secure.
But inside this space…
He sank into his role, into his fantasy. Neck-deep into the humiliation and pain of discovering he was being outmanned, behind his back. And in his bed.
“Lemme see you,” Bern told Sam as he got to his knees between her legs. She peeled her shirt away while Bern stripped her skirt. The way he drew her legs up to get the thing off… the way he held them once the fabric had fluttered to the floor, with her ankles resting on one of his shoulders, stroking her thigh with a slow hand…
Mike’s own hand drifted. His palm was damp, catching on the cotton of his T-shirt as he touched his chest, his belly, then settled it over the front of his jeans. Even the muted touch needed to adjust his erection made him suck a breath; he was so hard and needy he felt faint.
Taste her, he wanted to say. He’d felt this urge every time the man had come over – the desire to dictate. To be a director in these matters, as much as the victim. That was an aspect of his kink he’d never registered before. But it made sense. For years he’d been fantasizing about being cheated on, and it was his imagination, after all, that controlled the other man’s actions. But Bern was real, and once the games were under way, he took his cues from his own cock. The lack of control only buried Mike deeper in that helpless sensation he craved.
Bern watched as Sam got her bra off, caressing the legs he held to his chest. He stripped her panties next, spreading her wide as he lowered himself, fully clothed, against her. Sam gasped beneath him. She’d be feeling his fly against her lips, his belt buckle at her mound. Bern didn’t kiss her, but locked those powerful arms beside her ribs, staring her down as his hips and ass moved in slow, controlled waves, stroking his excitement against hers.
Mike palmed his cock, ran his fingertips along his zipper. He wanted air on his baking skin; air and friction. His mouth was dry, lips nearly chapped. He licked them, and again he thought it – Taste her. He wanted his wife’s fingers in this man’s dark hair, his head between her legs. Wanted all that, and Sam’s eye contact as it happened.
Before him, Sam was tugging at Bern’s shirt, her feet curled and rubbing at the backs of his thighs.
Impatience tinged her voice. “I need to see you. Take your clothes off.”
“Don’t you like this?” Bern exaggerated his thrusts, and Mike was pretty sure he was smiling.
“You know I do. But I want to watch you.” She stroked his chest, then his arms. “You’re so fucking hot. Let me see you.”
He submitted, tugging his shirt up and away. Sam’s hands were greedy as the motions resumed, taking in every square inch of his flexing back. She held his head, jacking Mike’s pulse. Taste her.
Instead, Bern gathered her in his arms, drawing her up with him. He knelt and Sam wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. Face-to-face, chest to chest. He held her ass, his fingers pressing into the ripe flesh there. His thrusts mirrored the motions he coaxed from her, and Mike wanted Bern’s clothes gone as badly as Sam must – wanted him naked and the two of them fucking. He wanted to see it all, every explicit detail. Every inch of the cock that had him outmanned, every muscle in the body his wife craved more than his. He wanted to memorize the effortless way this strong man held and handled his woman, and Sam’s moans as that cock claimed her.
“I want you,” she said. “I need you.”
“Tell me.”
“Your cock. Now. Please.”
“Worried he’ll come home?”
“I don’t even fucking care,” she seethed, nails racking Bern’s back. “Let him see. I just need you inside me. Now.”
“You wet for me?”
Mike shivered. How many times he’d said those same four words to Sam, he couldn’t possibly count.
“You know I am.”
“Better check for myself.”
Taste her. Mike fisted his hand at his side, no longer trusting his own self-control.
Bern lowered her to the covers, and their eyes locked as he opened his belt buckle and lowered his zipper. He grabbed her hand, pressing it to the cock now framed by his spread fly, hidden by his shorts. Sam’s mouth was open, and her lids took on that heavy look that Mike knew only too well. If he were closer he’d hear her panting, faint and hungry, as Bern worked her hand up and down his erection.
“Feel that?” he murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Good. You think about that while I’m eating your pussy.”
Mike didn’t see Sam’s reaction – his own eyes shut reflexively in that instant, a wave of excitement taking his breath away.
When he opened them, Bern was pushing his jeans and shorts down. He stepped out of them, stripped his socks, then kicked his clothes aside and dropped to his knees.
He grasped Sam by her thighs, sliding her to the edge of the mattress. He dove in as though starving, drawing a noise of surprise from her. Just as Mike had wanted, she held his head, slender fingers threaded through black hair.
“Fuck, you’re good.”
He was different as well, more vigorous and aggressive than the last time Mike had watched him do this. His entire body was in the act – back and sides flexing, hips pumping. And he sounded wild, the motions punctuated by a grunt now and then. Sam’s legs were spread wide, heels digging into his back. Mike ached to be closer, to see it all.
“I need you,” Sam said, sitting up, running her fingers roughly through Bern’s hair. “Now. Please.”
He looked from his task, gaze on Sam’s as his tongue delivered one, two, three final laps. “Do you, then?”
“Yes, now.”
One hand went to his cock, his triceps flexing as he stroked. He was hard and ready as he stood. “Got what you need?”
Sam moved up the bed to get the condom in place. It was easy enough to edit it out of the fantasy, but Mike selfishly hoped they might eventually find occasion to forego them completely.
Bern moved to kneel on the bed, still stroking himself as Sam got ready. Mike watched him with the strangest mix of lust and revulsion, in unsettled awe of this physical manifestation of his own most potent wants. This man made his deepest sexual wishes come true, as surely as Sam did. A man he hated, yet by proxy desired. Nearly his lover, in a way, but his enemy in another.
With Sam on her back, Bern took an ankle in each hand, easing her open, feasting his eyes. “Goddamn, you look good. You ready for me?”
“More than ready.”
He braced his hands, brought his hips to Sam’s, and she guided him home.
“Fuck.” He slouched from the sensation, shoulder blades jutting.
Sam tugged at his ass. “More. Please.”
“You feel so fucking amazing.” He eased back, then drove a little farther. “God yeah. Tell me how.”
“Deeper. Slow to start.”
Bern gave that, and Mike felt sweat slicking his own back.
“Faster,” Sam directed, touching Bern’s face. There was wonder in her expression, a look Mike had basked in a hundred times or more. It burned him in too many ways to see it now.
Bern’s shaft was dark and slick, now owning Sam in long, relentless strokes. Mike wanted to mimic those motions with his hand on his cock… fill his fist with his own aching flesh, fill his eyes with the spectacle of their bodies.
Their grunting voices mingled, as hot as any of the physical action. Mike drank in the scene, owning his part. He’d come home early from work to find the woman he loved getting pounded by a hung, handsome stranger. Well, not a stranger, no – he’d caught them before, after all. In the bar, and right here in his bed. This was no one-off threat anymore; this was his rival, and Mike couldn’t measure up, not in any way. He’d gotten a ring on Sam’s finger, that was all. A token, paled by the pleasure and excitement this intruder was bringing.
The man Mike was playing tonight, how would he frame this? How would he take this pain and manifest a segue…?
Maybe this is for the best. If I let her get her needs met with him, she might be satisfied enough to stay with me.
He cleared his throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the threshold.
Sam looked away. “Shit.”
Bern slowed, then stilled, buried deep. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and his head dropped back, a cocky gesture packed with contempt. “Well, goddamn, look who it is. Guess we meet again.”
“Get off my wife.”
Bern smiled, and Sam’s fingers gripped him hard by the hips. She said, “Don’t deny me this, Mike. I deserve pleasure.”
“And this asshole gives you that?”
Her hands kneaded the enemy’s body, admiring the muscles of his hips and ass. “He does.”
“And I don’t?”
She held his stare, cold. “You don’t really want me to answer that, Mike.”
Bern slid out, then back in, slow. “I think our fun’s over,” he told Sam.
She squeezed his arms. “Don’t you dare.” She kept speaking to Bern but looked to Mike. “Keep going. He should see what he drives me to. What I need, what he can’t give me.”
“This can’t keep happening, Sam —”
“Don’t deny me this,” she said again. “I need this. I need him.”
After a pause, Mike said, “Never again.”
Catching the permissive tilt to his voice, Sam smiled. “Just this one last time.” Her legs hugged Bern’s waist, urging him. With a final glance at Mike, his thrusts resumed.
“You can watch again, if you want.” Sam’s gaze flicked to the chair they’d left there, for exactly this purpose. Mike feigned uncertainty for a beat, then walked to it with an air of resignation, though inside, he was about to catch fire.
“The tripod seems a little unnecessary all of a sudden,” Bern said to Sam, then met Mike’s eyes squarely. “Since you’re here, grab that camera. Get a nice shot lined up. Maybe I’ll watch it later, so I can see what it looks like from your perspective – me fucking your wife.”
Mike rose to get the camera, tripod and all, arranging it between his knees with shaking hands. He’d have held it as ordered, except he didn’t want a second of this show flattened, reduced to two dimensions through the viewfinder. If this scene were an oil painting, he needed to see the real thing, not the print.
“Let’s give him a good view,” Bern said to Sam, pulling out. He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, legs spread, erection looking obscene, gleaming from the condom’s lubricant – from Sam, his imagination supplied. “On my lap.” Sam came around to straddle his thighs. She was no wisp of a woman, but Bern clasped her hips and eased her down onto his cock like she weighed nothing. She sucked a breath, then turned to meet Mike’s gaze over her shoulder.
“Good?” Bern asked her.
Her dark eyes shut and a smug smile curled her lips. “You have no idea.”
And they had no idea what a spectacular view Mike had – explicit, as Sam rose up and dropped back down in slow strokes, aided by Bern’s hands.
“Yeah. Ride that cock.”
“You’re so fucking big, baby.”
Mike flushed – in his cheeks and between his legs. Keep telling him that.
“Want it a little faster?” Bern asked.
“Yeah.”
Of Mike he demanded, “You getting all this?”
A rhetorical question. Mike swallowed, hands antsy atop his thighs. Christ, he needed to touch himself. He’d jumped off a lot of diving boards recently in the name of his kink, but each new one still demanded a show of bravery, a leap of faith. And sometimes, a nudge from Sam. He settled a palm over his screaming cock, through his jeans, squeezing faintly. Even that had him panting. Look at me, he willed her. Tell me to.
It was another fevered, endless minute before she did. Another glance over her shoulder, another evil smile, then —
“Turns you on, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t reply, frozen when Bern’s stare met his.
“Does it get you hard, watching me fuck your wife? Or have you just forgotten what it’s supposed to look like?”
“Go ahead,” Sam told Mike.
His fingers went to his belt buckle, opening it. Then his button, his zipper… One last choked breath, and he eased his jeans and shorts to the tops of his thighs, cock springing free. He held his palm to the underside, not stroking, merely cupping – even that threatened his longevity. His entire body was pulsing in time with their motions. He was too close already, teetering on the edge, scared of the drop. He couldn’t guess if his pleasure might turn to pain, to see them together with the insanity of lust stripped away.
Bern was kissing Sam’s neck, teasing with his lips and tongue and soft bites. Mike got lost watching those subtler violations, and for a moment, anger subsumed lust. So strange, how the penetration didn’t threaten him, yet this did, somehow. He let the rage dull his excitement, then froze altogether when Bern’s eyes opened, aimed at Mike’s hand.
He wondered what on earth the man was thinking. And the authentically jealous side of him hoped the asshole was surprised. You’re bigger, but not by much. That little moment’s taste of power twisted his excitement, darkened it. And suspended in those few seconds’ intensity, Mike felt something shift between the two of them, this rivalry taking on a much realer edge, if a harmless one. Before you get any ideas, asshole, just remind yourself I only pretend not to please her. You’re the sex toy. I’m her husband. She’s mine and she’s fucking amazing.
And it was that thought that got Mike’s fingers circling his cock, caressing, if not stroking. In his line of work, there was a lot of figurative dick-measuring that went on, as colleagues jockeyed for position and as the good guys and bad guys sized one another up. Right now that clash of manhood felt literal and very, very real. And also hot in a sharp, unsettling way.
“Show him how hard you make me come,” Sam murmured, her voice cleaving the male tension.
In a breath Bern had flipped her over, onto her hands and knees. In profile, Mike watched the enemy sink deep in a smooth, long stroke. One hand held Sam’s hip, the other reaching around to tease her clit.
“Yeah, just like that.”
Her words had Mike’s hand tightening around his cock, and in a dozen strokes, he knew he’d gone too far. The pressure was tight, arousal gathering like a thunderhead, unstoppable. Come, he willed her. At least let him see that much while the lust haze kept it all safe.
“Just like that,” she groaned. “Don’t stop.”
Bern took her harder, his far arm flexing in time with his fingers’ motions. “What’ll you think about when you come, baby?”
“Your dick.”
“What about it?”
“Fuck… you’re big.”
“Nice and deep?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice and thick?”
She nodded frantically, voice lost in a groan.
“Yeah, you think about that.”
And shit, Mike was thinking about it, too. He held on until Sam’s face told him she was there herself, needy tension straining every feature. When her moans grew jagged, Mike fisted himself tight and jacked himself home. In his head he heard the things Sam would say, were it just the two of them. Yeah, come on, baby. Do it. Show me. This time she said those things only with her eyes, as her long hair swung to the beat of Bern’s punishing body. Those eyes shut just as Mike’s orgasm arrived. It rocked him in wave after wave, the crest of it nearly painful, the ebb pure white relief.
Mike came down, slowly and not completely. His cock was pulsing, only half limp, even after that revelation of a release. He’d come in his fist and on his shirt. He stripped his tee and wiped his hand and crown clean with shaking fingers.
Bern slowed behind Sam, only his gleaming skin giving away the effort. He regarded Mike carefully, it seemed, a mix of curiosity and caution on his face.
Mike dropped his shirt to the floor and hiked his jeans and shorts back up, searching his body for panic, or revulsion… but finding neither. He felt sex-drunk, and behind that, still turned on.
“Well,” Bern said. He pulled out, giving Sam’s hip a little slap, spurring her to turn onto her back. She did so with a sigh of greatest satisfaction, then let her head drop to the side to look at Mike. Her eyes widened. She’d not seen him come. And to judge by her expression, she’d not expected him to.
“I think your husband likes to watch,” Bern told her. He was kneeling astride her legs, cock in hand. “You think he’d like to watch you suck me?”
Mike sensed in an instant what that question was. It was the ball being passed to Sam, and she, in turn, passed it to Mike.
“You don’t mind, do you? After all that, I think he’s earned it,” she added, stroking Bern.
Mike could’ve shut it down then, with an unequivocal Get the fuck out of my house. He would have, if his excitement weren’t already building all over again, that curious heat gathering deep in his belly. Instead, he heard himself say, “Just make it quick.”
Sam smiled, biting her lip, and there were two layers to that grin – the one that belonged to the cold-hearted bitch, and the one that belonged to the woman who played her. Their games had survived to see the other side of Mike’s release, and it delighted her.
“Go and sit,” she told Bern, reaching back to pat the bed’s edge.
He got into position and Sam dropped to her knees, just as he’d done for her. She stroked his thighs and Mike checked the camera, angling it to center them in the frame. Between his legs, he felt his cock growing warm and heavy. Fucking crazy. Like he was twenty all over again.
Sam clasped Bern’s cock, her gaze moving to Mike and the camera just before her lips closed around him. He watched, mesmerized, in awe of the two of them. In awe of his own reality. Sam took Bern deep, dropping the man’s head back. His arms were braced behind him, every muscle looking taut and on edge. Strong and helpless at once.
Voice strained, he asked her, “You like how I taste, don’t you?”
She answered with an eager moan, still working.
“Yeah, you do. You love that dick. You love tasting me, don’t you?” Suddenly he turned, eyes burning straight into Mike’s through the viewfinder. Bern swallowed and, panting, he asked him, “What about you?”
Mike could only blink, brain going blank with shock.
Bern slid himself from between Sam’s lips. “On your back.”
She did as commanded and he climbed on top, sinking deep once more.
“Fuck, you’re wet.” He looked back to Mike. “You ever eat your wife’s pussy?”
A tremor rattled through Mike, setting his hands trembling atop his knees. “Yes.”
“Tastes good, doesn’t she?”
Mike didn’t answer. He could sense the next question, one that terrified and intrigued him equally. What scared him most was that he was the only one who could answer it. Sam would never decide for him.
Bern pulled out and shifted to lay alongside Sam, stroking himself. “Why don’t you come over here and taste what your wife’s left all over my dick?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Anticipated or not, the invitation struck Mike like lightning.
It was so brazen, so… confrontational. So soon, it seemed. And it was a question that demanded action or refusal, not limp, grudging obedience. It put Mike firmly in his place as the degraded victim in all this, and it scared him.
Scared him because he was tempted. Scared him more so because it underlined how this was no longer his show to orchestrate. Bern had stolen his reins tonight, and Mike wasn’t sure he was ready to embody his part so completely.
Sam was still playing. She turned so she could stroke Bern’s chest, but she didn’t meet Mike’s eyes. And he knew why – it was too much pressure. If she wanted him to submit to it, she wouldn’t tell him so. The ball was entirely in Mike’s court. Fuck.
He eyed Bern’s cock, trying to pinpoint what would change if he submitted. What it said about his own sexuality. Sam had a far better perspective on it, wisdom always at the ready. What would she tell him?
You don’t want to suck a man’s cock any more than you wish your wife would actually cheat on you. We explore stuff when we’re playing, but it’s just a game. I’m not unfaithful and you’re not bi, not for keeps. Not once the curtain drops. But it’s your script to read from. Your choice.
His choice, and all of this was his idea. His wife had broken her vows and slept with another man to please him. This upping of the stakes was nothing compared to that. And he’d tasted this man’s come on his wife’s skin before. Was the reverse really such a far leap?
Well, yes. It was. He tried to imagine doing it, guessing at what he’d feel. Humiliated and intimidated, demeaned. And with that, his cock stiffened. He eyed the camera’s screen, and adjusted it to center the bed with shaking hands. It’d capture whatever it captured, and surely anything it missed would be etched indelibly onto Mike’s memory.
Bern stroked the base of his cock as Mike took a step closer. “Thought you’d say yes. Stay there,” he ordered, sitting up. “Get on your knees.”
Mike swallowed and did as he was told, holding his breath as Bern rounded the bed to stand before him, erection at eye level. Mike swallowed again. The man smelled of sex – the familiar scent of Sam, plus his own musk, at once arousing and repulsive and infuriating, short-circuiting every primal male instinct at work between Mike’s ears.
“Taste her,” Bern said, still gripping his base.
This was the closest Mike had ever been to another guy’s dick, and it was scary. To head off a germinating sexual identity crisis, he reminded himself what this was – the symbol at the heart of his kink. The knife that stabbed him in the heart and, in turn, got him so insanely hot. But it lost its edge without a woman close by. He looked to Sam, and she read his mind.
She left the bed and dropped to her knees beside him. With a smirk, she reached for Bern’s shaft, stroking him with slow, lazy pulls. “Scared?”
Mike said nothing.
“He’s already had your wife,” she said. “Is your mouth really so much worse?”
His lips parted but no words came. Lust was beginning to crowd away the nerves, but not completely.
“Want me to show you how?” Not waiting for an answer, she leaned in to trace the underside of Bern’s cock with the tip of her tongue. His flesh twitched, and Mike saw a bead glistening at his slit. You’ll taste more than Sam. But what he’d be tasting didn’t matter. Only the sensations mattered – the complete and utter debasement. He shifted closer on his knees.
“Open up,” Bern said.
Mike did, glad he wasn’t being asked to use his hands. He wasn’t being asked to service this man, only to be degraded. A task he could handle.
Bern held his cock, sweeping his head across Mike’s lower lip, then along the upper one.
“Smell that?” he demanded. “You smell your wife on me? Or maybe that’s not something you’d even recognize.”
Sam ran her hand up Bern’s thigh and cupped his balls, admiration in the gesture.
“Taste her,” Bern repeated.
And Mike leapt. He shut his eyes as his tongue met the smooth skin of Bern’s head. He offered a few timid licks, and though it was mostly lubricant that greeted him, he imagined it was Sam – that intimate flavor he knew from hours of feasting. The rival taste was there as well, strange and strong. But what wasn’t there was regret or panic. Be it via his eyes or ears or mouth, Mike wanted to be demeaned. He craved it.
His role wasn’t cock worshipper, though – it was that of the loser husband, and he felt no need to pleasure Bern or prove anything in the skill department. He’d take orders like the obedient little cuckold he was, and the next one arrived shortly.
“Take me in your mouth.” Bern’s normally deep and confident voice was shaky, and it occurred to Mike in a flash that the guy had never done this with another man before, either. Seemed so obvious now. It didn’t breed a kinship between them, but it banished the very last of Mike’s misgivings. He parted his lips and let Bern ease his cock over the lower one.
“She’s all over my dick,” Bern breathed. “I know you love cleaning away whatever I’ve left on her. Now do the same. Clean me up. Make it so you can pretend like I’ve never fucked your wife. Never fucked her better than you could ever dream of doing.”
Mike met the challenge halfway, opening his mouth wider and letting Bern push inside. The sensation frightened him, nearly as though the man’s cock were a gun. He realized in that ugly moment what a cowardly fetish his was, the way he’d been practicing it, leaving all the physical submission to his wife. Now sit back and watch had become drop to your knees and open your mouth, but even behind the fear, the humiliation had his own cock rousing.
“Close your lips,” Bern said, barely a murmur. “Make it tighter.”
Mike did as he was told. Took what he was given – not deeply, but the two or three thick inches Bern fed him was plenty.
“You taste your wife on me?”
Mike moaned. He tried to imagine he tasted Sam, but Bern’s scent and flavor were intense, primal and intimidating, so starkly male. Mike shivered when a gruff hand cupped his head, fingers splayed in his short hair. For half a minute or more, Bern dictated. Not too rough, but bossy. Bolder. He gave more, and Mike gagged.
“Good.” And it was over. Bern slid out, and when he spoke his voice was stiff and stilted. “Bet you were worried I was gonna give you more than just a taste.”
Mike said nothing and kept his gaze on Bern’s legs. He shivered when the man ran his fingertips through Mike’s hair – a brief, patronizing gesture.
“Saving my come for your wife,” Bern said. “You want it, you’ll have to eat it out of her cunt.”
And would I? Mike wondered. He wasn’t sure, but more than likely, he’d find out before the night was over.
Sam’s breathing was short, high in her chest. It felt as though a fire were consuming her.
Only a couple of weeks before, she’d felt this same fever as she’d violated her vows and taken a new man’s cock in her mouth.
She’d felt all that and more, watching Mike do the same.
Never could she have imagined that would turn her on – not as much as it had. Before tonight, there had been a taboo appeal to it, a curiosity. Now? Jesus, maybe she did have a kink of her own. She’d be thinking of that moment a thousand times in the coming days… and amending it. Imagining Mike getting drawn into the act, not merely surrendering to it. His hands on Bern’s hips, or his fingers wrapped around the base of Bern’s cock. Of both men getting caught up. Of Bern taking it all the way, and of Mike drinking him down.
She flushed all over, ready for whatever Bern wanted next. For the first time, she felt truly, fully immersed in this game. Fearless and utterly eager.
Her eyes met Mike’s, finding them edgy. Electric. She knew he must be seeing just the same in hers, and prayed she’d feel it when their bodies came back together, after Bern had gone home. She moved back to the bed when Mike returned to his chair.
“How was he?” she asked Bern, her casual words undermined by the breathy lilt of her voice. She might as well have said, That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Bern glanced to Mike or the camera. “He could use a few pointers.”
She smiled. “I’d be happy to give him some.”
“And what about me?” Bern asked, crawling close, looming large, erection brushing her mound as he straddled her thighs. “You happy to give me a little something?”
“Anything.”
He smiled right back, the gesture one thousand watts of sultry Southern charm. “Spread those pretty legs, then.”
She bit her lip. “Yes, sir.”
Bern shifted his knees and she did as she was told, all but seared by his gaze as he took her in. “You ready for me?”
“Always.”
Bern craned his neck to address Mike. “Don’t stop rolling, now.”
Mike’s only response was to part his lips, but Sam could read him like a book – that was arousal glazing his eyes, and darkening his cheeks and throat and ears. He’d come, he’d stepped beyond his comfort zone, and he was still in it. Still turned on. The three of them were up to their necks in the game now, and in it deeper than Sam had ever expected they’d go.
Yet here they were. Every one of them ready to see what came next.
“Take me,” she told Bern, tugging on those thrilling arms.
“Ooh, I like when you give the orders.”
Do you, then? A tempting notion. “Get inside me. Show him what I need.”
Another hot smile. “Well, yes, ma’am.” He steadied his cock and took her deeply in a single thrust.
“God yeah.” She gripped his hair, not faking an ounce of the desire burning inside her. “Lemme see you lose it.”
“What’s the rush?” He took her slow and deep, and for the first time, Sam was eager to watch that video. That ass, those hips, the muscles edging his ribs… all that in profile, working for her. Her own fantasies were coming into focus tonight, in so many ways. She’d always imagined that if she had a kinky side, she’d know it. But it had taken seeing Mike on his knees, live and in person, to set her on fire. She never could have guessed her reaction. Just as she never could have guessed the way indulging in another man’s body could deepen her feelings for her husband. She’d worried if anything, it would have dampened it. But no. Since their guest had arrived, sex had gone from a warming hearth to a blazing wildfire. A thought burst through the haze, one that slapped her in its clarity.
Don’t ever leave us.
Fuck, that was some dangerous thinking. That was attachment talking. She chalked it up to the intensity of the emotions in the room, and fell back into the moment.
“I like it fast,” she said, holding those slow-pumping hips. “You know that.”
“He not rough enough for you?” Bern asked, glancing at Mike.
“Not like you can do it. Show him.”
And he gave her what she’d asked for, driving quick and hard. “Get on your hands and knees.”
She did as she was told.
“Good.”
But after a minute, Bern’s punishing body stilled, then stopped. He spoke to Mike, three little words shifting the room’s entire atmosphere. “Come over here.”
Sam searched her husband’s face for trepidation, but it was impossible to locate behind the humiliation act. In any case, he was obedient. Suddenly the weight of three people dipped the mattress.
