by Madelynne Ellis, Fleur T. Reid, Nan Comargue, Shannon Peters, Morticia Knight, Jordyn Mckenzie
“Okay. One-night stand, or multiple-occasion thing?”
Elliot buried his face in her shoulder, but she distinctly heard him say, “Multiple.” Judging by how hot his cheek was where it pressed against her skin, he was burning with embarrassment. She gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, not wanting the information to dry up. Hell, she wanted to know dates and places, positions, chat-up lines, foreplay and ratings out of five for each and every act. That said, it might be best if they didn’t get into exact figures yet, and just stuck to the juicy excerpts. “How did it happen? Did you pick one another up in a club or something?”
“He invited me over to play chess.”
“Huh!” That jerked her out of the scenario she was generating in her head, where they were dancing up against one another in some nightclub, and had realised they needed to engage in a rather more vigorous form of bump and grind. “You don’t even play chess.”
“Nor does he.”
Smart Alec.
“He didn’t even own a set.”
“Is that why he offered to suck your cock, to apologise for being such a humongous goof?”
“Do you think he looks like a goof?”
Actually, as a matter of fact she thought he looked altogether too delicious, in a rough, somewhat sharp sort of way. It wouldn’t have surprised her to learn that Adam liked whips and chains and flogging tied-up folks across the arse, which as an idea made her altogether uncomfortable, nervous and intoxicated. He probably had a pierced nipple or a vast dragon tattooed across his back.
“So, he sucked your cock as an apology for failing to have the game you came over to play?”
“He sucked me so that I was relaxed enough so that he could fuck me,” Elliot confessed. Becca made a point of seeking his gaze after that admission, and, God, if Elliot wasn’t squirming. He wouldn’t look at her for more than a millisecond.
“He fucked you,” she stated, and watched in delight as further colour licked across his cheekbones and up into his temples.
“Yes.” He pouted. “Are you happy now that you know he’s been in my arse?”
She almost sniggered as Elliot’s face scrunched up into a defensive mask. Except, judging by the way he was still jerking his hips, his embarrassment was more of a turn-on than a turn-off.
“Go on,” Becca prompted. “It’s not enough to just tell me it happened. You have to tell me how it was done. What it felt like.”
“Don’t make me, Becca.”
Don’t make him. If she didn’t make him he’d probably burst or have a stroke. Besides, she needed to know. All his wriggling and sliding up against her entrance but not quite making it inside, then spearing upwards instead to drub upon her clit, was bringing her ever closer to simply grabbing him and going at it like it was the all-time best ride of her life. “Tell me.”
Maybe the demand came out more forcefully than she’d intended—nevertheless, it had the desired effect.
“He sat us together, kind of like this,” Elliot confessed, his words coming out slightly thick. “Facing each other—not from behind like everyone imagines gay sex is. Then he had me lower myself. It was supposed to be slow, but—” He scooped her up; lifted her so that this time, when she fell, his cock sank into her, joining them in one neat stroke.
Relief! Blessed, blessed, relief. She needed this so badly. His lips brushed her neck. He was still speaking, staying with the tale.
“—I couldn’t hold the pace. Not that slow. Anticipation got the better of me. I sank down at the same time that he bucked up. One glorious thrust and he was in me to the hilt. I swear, Becca; I’ve never known so much agony, so much pleasure mixed into one. I felt so damn full. It was like I was going to burst. And my heart was going so fast I thought that was going to burst too. But it was all good. Lord, it was bloody fantastic. Adam just held me for a moment. I think he was trying to keep me still. Then I guess I must have relaxed a little, because he started moving. I could feel everything, every tiny shiver, every buck of his cock.”
“Yes,” she agreed, for she could feel that too. She loved being astride Elliot like this, feeling the way his muscles pulled up tight each time he thrust. Knowing that, no matter what, ultimately, control lay in her hands.
“Then we were fucking. Properly fucking and I was just riding it. It was the most perfect, shocking, amazing thing. Any minute I thought I was going to come and paint his iron-flat abs with my stuff. Then, do you know what he said?”
Becca shook her head. She too was riding that cresting wave, allowing Elliot’s words to drift past her without allowing them to sink deep enough to cause any concern or pain. The whole time he spoke she kept a frantic grip upon his back. She was probably marking him. Elliot would wake in the morning with criss-crossed scratches across his shoulder blades that made him look like the victim of a werewolf attack.
“He said, ‘Reach down between us and rub your dick’.”
“Yeah,” she breathed between smeared kisses. “Did you do it?”
“I didn’t want to, because I was already so close.” His blush reached his eyes at that confession. Becca brushed her lips against his eyelids. “But I didn’t want to upset things either, so, when he gave me the instruction again, I did it. I wrapped my palm tight around my shaft and gave myself exactly what I needed. I swear I was hanging on by a thread. The only way to stop myself coming was to pinch around the base of my cock. Even then it was touch and go. But it was fine, because Adam gave me another instruction.”
“Come,” she guessed.
“Nah,” Elliot drawled, and the intonation told her that wasn’t who Adam was. He wasn’t easy or soft. More had crossed his mind than giving Elliot a good time. His own pleasure was paramount too. Some gut-level type instinct told her Adam wouldn’t let his partner climax until he was good and ready to come too.
“He got hold of my hand and sucked my fingers into his mouth, just like this.” Elliot pushed his first two fingers into her open mouth for her to suck. “He made sure they were good and wet. Then he got me to feel my way down his back to his arse.”
Suddenly, one of Elliot’s big hands was doing exactly that. Becca stiffened a little as his loved-up digits circled the tight furl of her anus. She used fingers on him there quite often, but they rarely did things this way round.
“Oh!” she squeaked, having failed to anticipate Elliot taking things in this direction. He kept on stroking her there, which sent bolts of shock and excitement ricocheting through her already highly aroused form. “Ell,” she groaned into his shoulder. He was going to tip her over if he kept on doing that. Her sensitivity there was damn near off the scale. If he dared to—my God, he dared to… First one, then the second digit penetrated her arse. She was being filled both back and front. She closed her eyes and it was as if Adam were in the room with them. His muscular body wedged up against her back, and his cock branding her arse, while Elliot filled her cunt.
That thought undid her completely. Becca sobbed out her orgasm into her lover’s shoulder. Seconds later, Elliot came inside her, equally hard.
Chapter Three
“What do we do now?” Becca asked as they readied themselves for breakfast the next morning. They’d spent the rest of the night curled up together like newborn puppies or kittens, nothing quite as sterile or cold as nested spoons. Wedding over, they were now dressed in their informal best. Fancy enough to fit in with the hotel decor, but far too nice for the weekend grocery shop.
“About what?” Elliot muffled a yawn. The banquette hadn’t been all that comfortable, something she’d realised during their post-coital cuddle. Consequently, Elliot was rather sleep deprived. Sure, she’d let him join her in the king-sized bed, but he’d only had a few winks up until that point.
Becca waited for the bride’s family to go into the restaurant ahead of them, before jabbing Elliot in the ribs to jolt him from his zombified state. “You know what about. Last night, remember? Adam, and what you got up to, and how I’d like to, you know�
��” She jabbed him again to make the point.
Following a second, rather prolonged yawn, Elliot shrugged in incomprehension. “I thought I was forgiven. Didn’t we make up?”
“You are, but…”
“But I am or I’m not?”
Becca raised her hands in despair. Evidently, the complexities of last night’s sex had completely washed over Elliot. She nudged him forward and left off trying to prompt his tired brain until he’d drained a glass of orange juice and started on a mountain of fruit. “I meant about how I’m interested in seeing you like that? Not that you’re a bad boy for doing it.”
“Christ, Becca!” He spluttered fruit over the tablecloth. Breath recovered, he snatched up a napkin and dusted away the offending bits of forest fruits. “Not fair,” he complained, whilst giving his nose a wiggle. “I’ve never snorted raspberries before. I didn’t think you were serious. I thought we were, you know, play-acting in order to get off.”
“So, you were lying about you and Adam?”
“No.” He cast a glance about the room, clearly making sure they weren’t in danger of being overheard. The restaurant, with its paint-splash modern art, held only a few late risers. Many of the wedding guests had departed the previous night. “Look, I might have embellished things a bit.”
“How much of a bit? Are you now saying he’s never fucked you?”
Elliot pulled a sour face around a piece of grapefruit. “Look, it was obviously turning you on, so I ran with it.”
“Has he or has he not shagged your arse?” she hissed.
“Has.” Elliot bowed his head and concentrated on his bowl until he’d emptied it. He drank a whole cup of tea before he spoke to her again. “I never realised that you were that into the idea. Are you really serious about wanting to see that shit?”
Was it really so terrible that the idea of seeing her husband being fucked turned her into a sex maniac? If she did a quick survey of the breakfast guests, how would the notion of her watching her other half get some go down? Hot or not? Approval or disdain?
She guessed the answer was plain enough on Elliot’s shock-whitened face. Sadly, him looking a bit peaky didn’t quieten the excited tingle in her cunt. There weren’t that many things in life she’d wanted with any degree of passion. However, the few things that fit that bill she’d fought, scrimped and saved her way to getting. Brand new car, a biomedical degree, and that Louis Vuitton case she’d craved so badly when she was seventeen. Admittedly, they were things and hadn’t really involved other people, but…
Damn, she supposed she’d back down if he was really, really upset and against the whole thing, except she wasn’t convinced over that. For all his moaning, an excited twinkle flashed in Elliot’s eyes. Plus his shoulders were pushed back like he was ready to hunt, not defensively hunched.
“We could talk to him before we leave. Look, he’s coming into the restaurant.”
Elliot snorted, “Yeah, because ‘Come upstairs for a fuck, while my wife ogles us’ is just the thing to spice up his cornflakes.”
Adam didn’t look quite as blanched as the other remaining wedding guests. Maybe he hadn’t stayed up as late, or drunk as much, or maybe his black ensemble, topped with a leather jacket, allowed him to look a little rough and get away with it better. His black hair was brushed into a satin-like sheet that rested upon his shoulders. He shot a glance in their direction, but didn’t come over.
“No, Becca, we can’t. The whole thing happened years ago; I don’t need to back-step.”
She turned her head back to their table, only to find Elliot still following Adam’s swagger. “Well, I guess if you’re not attracted to him any more”—she sighed—“I suppose we could try to find someone else.”
Not that she wanted to see him do a horizontal dance with anyone else. Adam was the stealth ninja who’d infiltrated her dreams and she wanted to see him naked. That slim butt of his would definitely be a joy to behold. She had a feeling his abs would be pretty well ripped too, if that clingy T-shirt he had on was anything to go by.
Elliot clasped his hands to his face, then rubbed his eyes. “What the heck came over you last night? You see me kiss someone and now you’re the world’s premier voyeur.”
She laughed, unable to help it. “Not yet, I’m not. I’m an aspiring voyeur. But you know how to change that.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling at her.
Becca left Elliot behind in the restaurant, ostensibly so that she could pack up the contents of their room. They both knew that wasn’t really why she’d left.
There wasn’t much for her to do. The few toiletries and clothes they’d brought could be easily slung into a bag. What she’d actually left him alone for was so that he would have the chance to speak to Adam.
Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part to believe that Elliot would broach the subject. Though straightforward in his approach to most things, when it came to sex and his privacy, he could be pretty evasive. The thing was, this wasn’t a situation where drip-feeding someone hints was likely to work. You just had to spit out bombshells like this. Say, ‘My wife wants to watch us fuck’, and hope you didn’t get punched.
Not that she thought Adam would swing his fists. She suspected that he was more likely to dissolve into laughter, but hopefully, after that, he’d agree. Hell, he’d been prepared to grope a married man in public. Going the whole way behind closed doors for an audience of one wasn’t all that great a leap, even if it was now broad daylight and taking risks somehow seemed better suited to night-time.
Time—she glanced at the digital clock display on the base of the TV. Nine forty-five a.m.; plenty of time for them to get raunchy. Final checkout wasn’t until three.
Becca couldn’t recall when she’d first stumbled upon the notion that seeing two men together might turn her on. It had just segued into existence over time, becoming part of her fantasy life. Elliot was not part of that. She’d never invented scenarios around their interactions and didn’t use him as one half of her imaginary pairings. The concept had never occurred to her until she’d seen Adam’s hand on his crotch. Now she wanted nothing more than to see her husband writhe within Adam’s hold. She wanted to see him on his knees sucking cock. The very thought fired up all her senses, so that her taut nipples poked against her top, their outline perfectly apparent. Her womb felt heavy, and, when she wriggled to satisfy the prickle of arousal tormenting her clit, she realised she was more than a little wet.
“Be brave,” she whispered to Elliot, as though they were psychically linked, hoping to hurry him up. Only, when she heard voices right outside the room, it dawned on her that she wasn’t brave. She flushed with embarrassment and dived into the built-in wardrobe. “Holy shit!” Elliot had genuinely done it. Leastways, he’d invited Adam back to their room.
“Bec?”
She held her breath and kept impossibly still as both men walked past her to stand before the bed. The wooden slats in the wardrobe door gave her an ample view of both the banquette and the bed.
Elliot’s back faced her, while Adam stood side-on so that she could see his pretty mouth curving upward at the corners into a smile.
“Maybe she’s done a runner,” Adam said in his smooth, deep drawl. “Guess she wasn’t so keen to meet me, after all.”
“She did want to meet you.” In the glass of the picture opposite, Becca could see the crumpling of Elliot’s brows. It added a certain sincerity to his protest, something Adam brushed away without saying a word. His body language was just as suave and suggestive as it had been the night before. He followed Elliot’s footsteps around the room, first with his gaze, then moving up close behind him.
“You know, you didn’t have to go to this much effort to get me up here. The offer’s still open that I made last night.”
Elliot turned to face his old lover. “I haven’t lured you here. Becca’s curious about you, which is hardly surprising given what she saw.”
Adam’s arm shot out. His hand hit the
wall to the side of Elliot’s head, neatly trapping him. “What she saw was fuck all compared to what I have planned. Remember what we used to do?”
Elliot shook his head.
“Huh—who do you think you’re lying to? I know you remember. Your body certainly remembers. Your cock gets hard at the mere suggestion of my touch. Bet you haven’t mentioned how far it went. You should tell her what it’s like between us.”
Elliot futilely tried to shove him off. “It didn’t go anywhere,” he growled into Adam’s face.
“Oh, man, you’re such a dick.” Adam shook his head so that his black hair swooshed against the back of his leather jacket. “That’s right, pretend it never happened. Pretend that you’re completely straight. You should tell her the truth, mate. You’re more bent than I am.”
They glared at one another, eyes ablaze, though with hunger or anger it was hard to tell.
“The past is of no relevance to who I am now.” Elliot’s shoulders hunched up towards his ears. “Just because you’ve resurfaced from the bottom of the slime pool doesn’t mean I have to dredge up any more old crap. Things are different now. And there isn’t an ‘us’, so how exactly could I tell her what it’s like between us?”
“There is an us. There’s always been an us. No matter how much you’d like to see her come between us.” Adam leaned a little closer, not so that they were touching, but so that there was no question of the intimacy between them. His breath stirred the strands of Elliot’s hair at the side of his ear.
“Adam, quit fooling around and back off.” Elliot shoved a hand against Adam’s chest, but failed to move him more than a millimetre. “And quit with the innuendos. I’m a married man. I can’t do this reunion fuck thing, or whatever it is you think I’m up for.”
‘What are you protesting for?’ Becca wanted to shout. She mouthed the words, ‘Don’t object. Do’.
Thank God that Adam wasn’t easily put off. “You’re up for it. So is she. If she knew you were coming to get me, why’s she missing? You told me yourself she’s intrigued. Maybe she’s not as aggrieved about our little grope last night as you make out. Maybe, she’s actually giving us some space to get reacquainted.”