The air in the room lightens as the breath I was holding comes out in a rush of relief, my lips finally sealing to his hungrily. Licking his lips, I offer my tongue, biting and sucking at the soft pad of his, looking for reassurance that he's here to stay.
"Then why so serious?" My hand swipes gently across his brow, pushing away bangs that have grown unruly so that I can see his eyes. "You were giving me a heart attack here."
"I guess I just realized how much pressure I feel not to mess any of this up. I'm freaking out a little, and seeing you made it all come together."
"Well stop freaking out! This is a time for celebration. I'm already freaking out about Quill, and we can't both be acting like total lunatics."
"How's that going? Are you ready?"
Pulling away, I start rummaging through the refrigerator, my ass in the air, until I feel hands steady my hips and something firm tuck up against my sweatpants.
The chill of the Prosecco bottle keeps my hands full instead of reaching behind to grab the object pressing so insistently against me.
"I thought you came here to talk," I remark naughtily, straightening and turning in his arms.
"I did, but I was asking about you first. I'm a good boyfriend, I always take care of my girl's needs first."
It's true. In that, Mark is a very unselfish lover. I never have to ask, he just delights in watching me get off before letting go. I think it heightens his pleasure. I'm sure there's some Freudian power and self-worth lecture inherent in that analogy, but I'm happy to be the recipient of his concentrated effort.
"I may have a nervous breakdown before the weekend is over. Emma assures me it will be okay, but I know I'm going to look like the poor fourth daughter sent to live her life in servitude as a lady's companion on some wealthy estate, destined to forever fade into the background, unfulfilled and unnoticed."
"Am I supposed to know what that means?" Mark laughs. "Because I only remotely got the last part. I will tell you I am here to notice and fill whatever isn't full."
"Let's get drunk!" Peeling the foil from the Prosecco bottle, I untwist the wire cage, flicking it toward the sink before grabbing a towel to pop the cork. Grasping the head of the bottle, Mark's eyes focus on my hands as I twist the towel firmly around the cork and struggle to coax it into submission, until it finally releases with a loud pop.
A flood of bubbles erupt from the bottle to shoot across the front of my t-shirt, soaking the fabric so that the lace of my bra peeps through the wet spots.
Eyes darkening with desire, the bottle is quickly removed from my hands, making way for Mark's lips to suck my nipple through the fabric of my tee.
The bite of the counter against my lower back reminds me that we are once again in the kitchen.
"Come on, hot stuff. Grab some champagne glasses and take me to bed. Let's blow off a little steam."
With a flip of my hair, my bare feet slap against the tile floor, the sound quieting as I slip across the pile of the hall carpet, and I glance over my shoulder to make sure Mark is following.
"What about the glasses?" I ask as he rushes to catch me, smacking me on the ass with his free hand before tipping the bottle directly to my lips.
I momentarily flash to the image of Simon drinking in his kitchen before Mark's hand squeezing my breast brings me back to the present.
"Good?" he asks, eyes trained on my mouth.
Nodding, the tip of my tongue slips across my lips to catch the escaping droplets until Mark's tongue sweeps across the surface to clear them away. Sealing his mouth to mine, his tongue lightly strokes my own softly and sweetly, the gentleness a contrast to his usual hunger when we're together. That's not to say that Mark is never tender in his movements, but sex between us is usually more of a competitive sport than a meeting of the souls.
Pulling my damp t-shirt over my head, I drop it to the floor while Mark's fingers work the ties of my sweatpants, pushing them down my hips to finger the lace band of my boy shorts.
"Josie."
"Hmmmm?" I ask, pulling at the back hem of his t-shirt to warm my hands across his lower back, dipping into the waistband of his jeans to scratch my nails lightly across the top of his ass. His hips buck sharply toward mine, one hand grasping my chin to tilt my head to meet his eyes.
"I love you."
A different kind of pleasure bursts throughout my body as we stand motionless, each searching the other's face, hands tightening along flesh as if to imbue the memory with touch.
"How do you know?" My lips tilt, the crinkle of my eyes tempting him to tell me without words what that means. For once, my flirtatious, carefree man remains serious, the pressure of his hand around my chin now a gentle stroke.
"I knew the minute I signed the contract the other day. I couldn't have done it without you. You gave me the confidence and the coaching to push through."
"Not true. You got the offer before we even met."
"True, but you don't realize how long I sat on that offer until you came along. Wanting to impress you made me willing to go after something I really wanted. I don't like to fail, Jos. You made me believe I wouldn't."
Squirming uncomfortably, I deflect in the way that I've conditioned myself over the years to reject any type of praise that begs me to believe I have the power to impact someone else's life.
"You would have made it happen without me. Someone else would have come along to set a fire under that mighty fine ass of yours sooner or later."
"Why do you do that? Why do you pretend that you don't make a difference to us other than as someone we like to fuck? That you're on some temporary loan. I'll let Cliff speak for himself, but believe me when I say I thank God every day that Cliff brought you to me. You have been the best thing to ever happen to my life."
The tears gathering in my eyes embarrass me, although the relief settling deep into my bones strengthens my resolve to not fuck this up. I really don't know what this means to our future, other than that it's not in me to keep him hanging any longer.
"I don't know what this means, or where we go from here, but I love you, too. Never doubt that."
Our words linger in the air between us, waiting in the stillness. Pressing his forehead to mine, Mark simply breathes me in for a few beats before stepping me backward toward the bed. We've retreated from voicing further words for now, willing to let our actions speak instead.
The pile of discarded clothing grows as my bare ass hits the edge of the bed, my knees opening immediately for Mark to step between them. My hands recognize the shape of the previously discarded Prosecco bottle on the nightstand where I fumble to open the drawer to display the condoms and toys contained within.
Grabbing the Prosecco bottle, I tilt it toward my lips. He watches me swallow, as if tracing the path from my lips, to my throat, and down my body to where the bubbles make my toes curl slightly.
"Ready to drink me?" His eyes darken, the grip at the base of my scalp demanding the small nod allowed before holding on even more tightly.
Funny the things you take for granted until you see them in a new light. I rarely notice the full length mirror on the back of the closet door, because normally, it sits flush against the wall. Today, it sits ajar to give me a full view of Mark's tight glutes as they pulse and relax in a rhythm as his cock presses in and out of my mouth.
The flushed cheeks and drugged expression in my eyes belong to someone else. Someone abandoned and carefree, although the overly full breasts bobbing to his rhythm are mine. The swell of fleshy hips and thighs that dimple against the pressure on the mattress and the motion of his body with mine, are a distinct counterpoint to Mark’s.
Taking another swig from the bottle, he pulls his cock from my mouth, tilting my chin up with one finger before pouring a cooling stream of Prosecco against my willing tongue. The heat of his cock quickly replaces the bottle again as I lean back tensely on my hands, eyes closed against the view until Daisy's soft meows herald heavier footfalls.
My eyes fly open to meet
Heath's as he stands in the bedroom doorway, taking in the erotic view of Mark plunging in and out of my mouth, unaware of our audience until I begin to struggle upright.
His motions cease, although he doesn't pull free from the warm cave of my mouth. Instead, he presses slightly deeper, claiming the actions without regret.
Daisy's soft yowl from the hall voices her disappointment as she winds around Heath's ankles in solidarity.
Staking a claim or picking a side?
Chapter 34
Three is a Magic Number
My eyes close in humiliation, wondering how we recover from this, even though obviously, they both know what's been happening between all of us.
Seconds tick by, and I refuse to open my eyes. Instead, I remain frozen with Mark's cock down my throat, trying to decide what words will make any of this right. The forward press of Mark's hips once more demands my attention, as resigned, my eyes search for Heath's to find him gone from the doorway.
Regret wells inside me until the heavy dip of the bed behind me signals that he's still here. My eyes dart back to the mirror to recognize his own hooded gaze reflected behind me, staring into mine to ensure I see him.
Soft kisses fan across my hair, small, crisp hairs tickling my flesh as I'm pulled backward against Heath's chest to settle between his legs, where he kneels naked behind me.
My shoulders rise to meet his caresses, his hands slipping around my ribcage to cup my breasts. I have no clue what silent signals are being relayed and received between the guys, restrained as I am between them, but Mark finally pulls his cock from my mouth to lift my legs around his hips, even while Heath leans above me to capture my lips with his own.
A faint moan escapes me as Mark plunges deep into my core, and Heath pulls away to glance at the cause of my cry. Pulling my shoulders back, he slips beside me to pillow my head on his thigh before teasing my lips with the head of his own cock.
Serious eyes meet mine, whether in challenge or anger, I can't tell. All I know is that I want to make this man part of our connection of bodies and souls. My tongue slips out to lick at the head, my nipples tightening at the fingers now pinching tightly, rolling the flesh between them, pulling and flicking sharply, making my body arch in pleasure.
Mark shifts his grip on my knees, grabbing one ankle and lifting it sharply over his shoulder. Our combined groan at the deeper thrust has Heath gripping me loosely around the throat, taking that moment to thrust deeply into my mouth, demanding attention.
I choke slightly, the initial lack of air causing small tears to leak from my eyes as he pulls back quickly. The grip on my throat tightens imperceptibly, the harsh look etched on his face demanding submission as my own hand comes up to grab his wrist. His hand loosens until I squeeze it with my own, wanting his anger, wanting to be punished for being discovered this way.
My mouth devours his thrusts, licking and nibbling along the length while Mark's pace punishes us from below, before suddenly pulling away.
The grip around my throat relents, Heath's cock slipping from my mouth, his arms gripping below my breasts to haul me upright. Meeting Mark's eyes in surprise, something flies over my head, and Heath catches the small foil packet in mid-air.
Leaning close to my ear, Heath whispers a command. "Crawl over to the edge of the bed. I want to see you finish Mark off."
Surprised, I kneel on my haunches, legs closed tightly, wondering if he's serious. The swat on my ass convinces me that he is.
"Go on, he's waiting. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." Heath's hot breath moves from my ear, to drop soft kisses down the side of my neck and shoulder, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to urge me on.
"Promise?" The word slips out before I can keep it from escaping, pleading for reassurance.
"I'm here aren't I?" His voice is low in my ear as Mark watches and waits silently for my decision. "I love you, Josie. If this doesn't prove it, nothing will."
Now? This is how he tells me? My gentle giant, with the soft heart and the uncompromising moral compass, chooses this moment to declare his love. Anyone who says that love is logical and cerebral has never experienced the irrational madness of blurting out your feelings without care for the circumstances.
My arms twist above my neck to bring his face to mine, lips sealing my commitment to ride this out together.
"I love you, Heath." Sending a mock glare down the mattress to where Mark now leans on his hands, daring me to come closer, I add, "The knucklehead, too."
"Then let's make it count. Because I need to be inside you." One long last kiss wakes every nerve in my body before he pulls away and grabs a fistful of hair, directing me where he wants me to go.
The finger beckoning me from the edge of the mattress draws me closer as I scoot on all fours, ass in the air, not caring that my boobs sway pendulously below me. Reassured by the weight of Heath's knees moving behind mine, I reach the edge of the mattress before glancing over my shoulder to Heath for further direction.
"Go ahead, swallow him down." Caressing my ass, he slaps one cheek lightly. "Make sure you spread 'em."
Readjusting my stance, I widen my knees before leaning over and grabbing Mark's heavy cock once more. The grasp of his hands squeezing my breasts to hold me in place draws a sharp intake, my center suddenly flooding with wetness.
Careful fingers rub against my slit as the spent foil packet lands on the mattress next to me, and Heath spreads my legs further apart, lifting my hips higher. I lick my way down Mark's cock, finally sealing my mouth around him just as Heath lines up and slams into me from behind.
Mark's sharp breath elicits a small giggle as I pop him from my mouth, my jaws unlocking from the moan that escapes.
"Give some warning, man! There are sharp teeth too close to my jewels."
"That's for you to control. I've got my hands full on this end." A sharp plunge emphasizes his words, and I groan into the motion again, long strokes beginning to set a rhythm that the small pulse in my nub struggles to follow.
"Eyes," Mark demands, waiting for me to look at him before gesturing to the closet mirror over his shoulder. "Watch what you do to us. Know that you make this," Mark gestures between himself and Heath, who is already lost in his own pleasure, "work. Let's see how much better this gets."
Each of Heath's thrusts force me forward to suck Mark down further, our combined pace ebbing and flowing as Heath controls the scene. Watching Mark's ass flex beneath my hands, seeing the serious concentration on Heath's face as he grips my hip in one hand and runs the other lightly up and down my ass, it all makes me feel like a goddess.
My eyes no longer see dimples and wrinkles and fleshy bits that can't be contained. Instead, I see passion and shared lust and love directed at me, trying to fill me, and in turn, accepting what I give willingly.
If shared experience is the measure in which we connect with others, then Mark, Heath, and I are building a foundation for future happiness one thrust at a time.
"I'm close," Heath's strained voice whispers in my ear. "Come with me."
"I'm not quite there," I groan, panting slightly as Mark pulls from my mouth and Heath pulls me upright to bounce me on his knees facing Mark, who pulls and slides his hand up and down his shaft faster and faster.
"Mark!" Heath commands over my shoulder, the mirror showing me Heath's hands pinching at my nipples, his chin gesturing downward for Mark to follow.
The bed bends once more as Mark puts a knee between my own, one hand still sliding up and down his rigid flesh while the fingers of his other hand begin to circle around my clit, rubbing a pattern that teases me toward the edge. Our lips smash together, tension building as small mewling sounds are interrupted by the hot slosh of Mark's seed running down my stomach, the trails reaching my clit and adding to the slippery friction as I pull my lips away to reach for Heath's.
Heath's thrusts become more ragged as he stiffens behind me, straining his hips against my ass and sucking on my tongue with abandon. I'm so close, an
d the pressure of Mark's fingers finally push me over the edge, legs bucking and stiffening, until we all slump onto the mattress in various degrees of sated bliss.
The condom slips from my body, and Mark passes a tissue to Heath, who wraps it carefully before discarding it on the nightstand, their moves fluid as if they've practiced them.
Snatching it off the nightstand, I roll bonelessly to the edge of the bed, then slip into the bathroom, peeing quickly before using a warm washcloth to remove the proof of Mark's orgasm.
I'm not quite certain what to do next. There are two large, decidedly naked men taking up both sides of my mattress. I haven't seen Daisy since Heath's unexpected arrival. I wonder if she's hiding away from the frightful view of Mom getting down and dirty with two males in her domain.
It's rare that either guy spends the full night here, although Daisy doesn't tend to mind having Heath around. With luck, she'll emerge once things settle down.
Still, I continue to stall, realizing how ridiculous I am to be hiding in the bathroom but unable to help myself. My mind is refusing to deal with the ramifications of my actions, because I don't know the proper etiquette of what was recently an unimaginable concept.
What would Jane do? Probably have a case of the vapors and faint on the bathroom floor. The ugly tile mocks me, cold beneath my bare feet. How long has it been since I mopped my bathroom floor?
"Jos?" Mark's sleepy voice interrupts my manic inner dialogue. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be out in a minute," I call softly, steeling myself to face the aftermath, exhaustion pulling me to just give in.
Traitor! Mark and Heath flank both sides of my bed while Daisy lies between them, legs kicked in the air, belly exposed, a gentle purr of contentment punctuating the rise and fall of her chest while Heath's light snore is barely audible.
Corsets and Quartets Page 31