by Cara McKenna
She stood and grabbed their empty glasses, and made her voice light. “It’s just about showtime, anyway. No reason we can’t misbehave for the camera.”
Bern got to his feet, slipping a hand down the front of his jeans to adjust himself. That alone got Sam’s pulse spiking. I’ve got way too much power over these men. A position she’d never imagined she’d find herself in, back when she’d just begun to picture how the realization of Mike’s kink might look. Before the games had begun, her fear had been that she might feel exploited. Not bullied but coerced by her own need to feel like she was enough for him. She’d worried back then that she might feel manipulated, even though, in reality, she was fast becoming the ringmaster.
And if she had any doubt of that, Bern held his arm out and said, “Lead the way.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A
s they headed up the stairs, Sam said, “So, we’re pretending like he’s hidden a camera tonight.”
The whiny floorboard creaked under Bern’s weight. “But he’s joining us later?”
“Yeah.”
No reply, and at the threshold of the bedroom she turned to find him smiling. “What?”
“We’re all through with the condoms tonight, right?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “That’s right. Unless you’ve suddenly changed your mind?”
“If you knew how much I hate needles, the fact that I got the tests done would tell you how in I am.” He stepped close, thighs brushing hers, chin at her temple. She felt his fingers in her hair and the heat of his breath as he spoke. “You know what I can’t figure out, though?” he murmured.
“What?”
“So I get to fuck you bare tonight,” he said, and her pussy gave an eager squeeze.
“Yes, you do.”
“But I can’t decide what I want to do to get you wet for me.”
She shivered. “It won’t take much.”
“My mouth, maybe.” The mouth in question brushed a soft kiss against her forehead, and Sam could nearly feel his tongue between her thighs, taunting with its deep, savoring laps. Then she imagined his cock there, no condom, no lube. Only skin on skin, just her and him. She swallowed.
“Or maybe we should just go ahead and find out,” he said, so soft it was barely a whisper. A current of intimacy crackled between them, one that felt dangerously disconnected from Mike. He ought to hear every word, she thought – every nonlogistical one. Unspoken rules dictated that he read their e-mails, watch nearly every moment they were together, or at least be given a chance to do those things. To deny him access to her and Bern’s sexual relationship felt too much like actual infidelity for Sam’s comfort.
You’re thinking way too hard about it. Mike likes feeling jealous and left out. Now be a good little wife and fuck this hot man.
Well said.
“Wait here a sec,” she told Bern. “I’ll hit RECORD before I turn the lights on, so my dicking around in front of the camera doesn’t wreck the illusion.”
She padded through the dark room and opened her laptop, dimming the screen as far as it went. She double-checked it was Mike’s username she was contacting, then hit CHAT. From the top of the dresser, the camera’s light turned red, its lens aimed at the bed. She hurried back out to Bern.
“Showtime.”
She barely heard the growl of a “good” he uttered before his mouth was back on hers, a hundred times hungrier than before. Bossy hands held her head, and he walked her backward into the room, knocking the light switch up to illuminate it all for Mike.
He broke their mouths apart and ran gruff palms up her sides, cupped her breasts. “Been thinking about you all day. Every bit of you.”
She grabbed his belt in both hands, mirroring his aggression. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last time.”
“What’ve you missed most?” he demanded, his pushy body crowding her to the edge of the bed, forcing her to sit.
“How good you make me feel.” She fisted his collar and drew him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. She could feel the stiff insistence of him and it curled her fingers into claws against his back. He locked his strong arms erect at either side of her ribs, staring down at her as his hips began to roll.
“Can’t wait to get inside you,” he said.
“Good. I want every inch of you.”
“Deep?”
“Deep. And bare.” Just saying it now gave her a thrill, and from something more than simple taboo. Something possessive. You’re mine, she thought, holding his stare. Nobody gets you except me. Not forever, but for now – and that was more than enough. Hypocritical though her excitement was, she couldn’t deny its potency. She’d thought her days of calling a new man hers alone were over, but as always, Mike’s desires rewrote her perceptions of what sex could be. Who she could be, as a sexual person. As a woman.
And this woman got to call this gorgeous, strong, eager specimen of a man hers.
And not just him.
Outside, Mike was parked on the street, and, having not received a text with any changes to the plan, Sam could only assume he was watching everything that was happening, on his phone. He’s mine as well. Man, was she spoiled. But she didn’t take it for granted – not for a single moment.
There were things Samira wanted tonight, when Mike joined them. She wanted both their bodies against her, front and back. No double penetration – just the hot, naked skin of two ready, rowdy men pressed close, two voices breathing quick and hard, their fingers brushing as they touched her.
Bern freed a hand to reach down, toying with her necklace before slipping it over her head and setting it aside. “Let your hair down.”
She slid off her elastic and tugged her braid free.
“Yeah, good. I love your hair.”
“Now you – take your shirt off.”
Bern sat back, and Sam watched with awe as he obeyed. All that lean, flexing muscle that made him look so gorgeous in a well-fitted shirt – straight-up heart-stopping in the flesh.
“I could stare at you for hours.” She ran her palms over his abs and chest, watching his muscles twitch and tense from her touch.
Their bodies came together, Sam’s legs hugging Bern’s ass and his hips pumping slow.
“Too many clothes,” he panted after a hot minute.
“So fix it.”
And he was on his feet, grabbing her ankles, pulling her bodily to the edge of the mattress. Sam laughed and got busy undoing her fly. She shed her shirt and he tugged her jeans away, then she sat up. She didn’t want to miss a minute of the show. She wanted to watch him as surely as he was dying to get watched.
He undid his belt with slow, precise motions, and lowered his fly. Sam studied the dark hair that trailed from his navel to the band of his shorts, the way that line grew denser and darker. His jeans dropped and his thumbs went to his waistband. “Don’t rush,” she said, letting him see the way her eyes feasted.
He cupped his straining cock, then stroked, making a show of himself. “Don’t rush? That go for the night itself?”
“Absolutely.”
“When’s he due back?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. “Plus, is it really so bad when he catches us?”
“I like getting you all to myself… but no, it’s not so bad. I don’t mind showing him how to please you.”
“Or you,” Sam countered, electrified as always to imagine the men touching each other. Or watching Bern’s cock disappear inside Mike’s mouth. “I say let him catch us.”
Bern was still stroking his erection through his shorts, accentuating its obscene outline.
“You like being watched,” she mused.
“You know I do.”
“You like being photographed, too?”
Oh, that easy Southern smile. “Bet you already know the answer to that.”
“You’ll have to settle for my eyes tonight, but I’ll add it to the menu for future use.�
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“You wanna see me now?”
She nodded, then curled her finger to tell him to step closer. When he did, she rubbed his hard, thick thighs and gave his taunting hand a front-row audience. “Show me.”
“You said no rush.”
“I lied. Show me.”
One thumb slipped behind the waistband, easing it down to expose the base of his shaft, and that dark V of hair shot through with silver. Impatient, she reached out to finish the job herself, but Bern caught her wrist in a firm grip.
“You’re eager tonight.”
No doubt. At times this man felt like a controlled substance, one Sam didn’t a hundred percent trust herself to be left alone with. “I want you.”
“You’ll always get me. You’ll always get this,” he said, and pushed that black cotton down to expose himself. Six times she’d been with him now, yet the sight of him still thrilled her as it had that very first night.
And this night was different. What she saw was precisely what she’d get when Bern took her. The condom’s whisper-thin barrier felt like a wall coming down, making all of this so undeniably real. In this realm of negotiated three-ways, losing the protection was strangely like telling someone I love you for the first time. The physical manifestation of stakes being upped intensely. Of attachments being declared and promises made.
There had been high stakes before – their identities and privacy, and Bern’s risk of having a part in the accidental dismantling of a marriage, should Sam and Mike not have weathered the storm these games could easily have unleashed. But this new boundary… I trust you, this move told Bern. We trust you. And we want you all to ourselves, at least for now. We want you. Do you want us back? Enough to be faithful?
And he’d told them, yes, he did. Christ if that didn’t mean something to Sam, something so beyond the bounds of Mike’s kink and its preoccupation with fluids…
Bern moved her hand to his cock and she clasped him, charged with more than lust. With gratitude and awe. And something darker. She gave him the strokes she already knew he loved, and desire spurred her to go further – to rush to the floor to kneel and close her lips around him.
“Fuck yes. Sam.”
Outside, in his car, Mike was watching. And he’d know exactly what this felt like. This room, this floor, her mouth, Bern’s cock – every angle of it, every role. She took him deeper, aggression hijacking her excitement. A few times in her past, she’d felt this same drive. Aided by alcohol and the scary thrill of new attachment, she’d felt this fuel burning in her blood, driving her to fuck a new lover so good he’d never want another woman. It had been years since she’d felt it – not since she and Mike had still been new to each other – but it came back to her in a rush.
He felt so right in her mouth. Familiar but forbidden, the same as his voice and scent and the rhythm of his pounding body when it claimed hers. Same as his name in her messaging app or her in-box. Everything about it.
Christ, I love this man.
Whoa. Shit.
Not actually, of course. That was the wine and conspiracy talking. And thankfulness, for everything he’d done for her and the man she truly loved. She loved Bern as she might a good friend. A real and powerful love, but not what she felt for Mike.
Just lust, intensified. Lust on fire – nothing more. She returned her attention to the physical, and got lost where she needed to be, between their bodies, until —
“Sam.”
She froze. That was no overwrought murmur from Bern, but the stern sound that announced Mike’s arrival in the festivities. She freed her mouth but held Bern firmly as she turned to meet her husband’s eyes. Her worries had had her rooted too deeply in reality, and she struggled to pick the right emotion to feign – ambivalence, annoyance, pity? Bern came to her rescue, tilting her face so she met his eyes.
“Keep going,” he said.
She stroked his cock, but didn’t take him back inside her mouth.
Bern’s gaze jumped coldly to Mike. “You again.”
“I’m getting really fucking sick of finding you here.”
“Your wife’s got needs. I meet them.” Bern looked down at Sam, his annoyed expression saying he thought this conversation might go on for a while. “Go ahead and get on the bed, honey.”
“Don’t you fucking call her that,” Mike cut in, but the strength in his voice was already waning. “I’ve been taping you both, you know. I’ve seen everything.”
Not everything, Sam thought, cheeks warming as she moved to kneel on the mattress behind Bern. Not that kiss.
“Hope that tape’s still rolling,” Bern said to Mike. “More footage for you to get pointers from.”
“You can’t come into my home and talk to me like this.”
Bern’s posture hitched, as though with a silent laugh, and Sam imagined he was smiling now. “You can’t pretend you’re really that offended,” he said to Mike. “You have fun when we all get together, too, don’t you?”
Mike’s expression shifted officially from angry to unsure, and his gaze sought Sam’s.
“It get you off to watch a better man please your wife?” Bern asked.
That’s pretty much exactly the idea.
Mike didn’t respond, and Bern turned to Sam. “Touch me. Show him what you need that he can’t give you.”
Sam moved to the edge of the mattress and reached around to stroke him. She made the pulls long and indulgent, and watched Mike’s face. The predictable subtleties were there – the wariness in his brow, the glazing of his eyes. All the contradictions that constructed his sexuality, written on that handsome face.
“Mike,” she said. “Come here.”
He did, looking nervous. She could bet why, but that wasn’t what she was after tonight. She told him, “Take your clothes off.” Her hand stilled on Bern’s cock and she asked, “There’s no reason you both can’t make me feel good, is there, baby?”
Bern answered after a pause, turning around. “I guess not. But you said he can’t please you.”
She glanced at Mike, who was stripping away his shirt. She took in the body that she wasn’t supposed to admire, excitement deepening and those worries finally dissipating. “He can take direction.”
Bern smiled down at her, seeming to give in. “Like I could say no to you.”
She grinned right back. She could laugh to think she’d ever worried this role would demean her. Exploited? Try spoiled. “It’s what I want.”
“How?”
“Lie with me,” she told Bern, and the two of them stretched out on their sides, facing. She heard Mike’s belt hit the floor. “Mike, come behind me.”
He did, and it was everything she’d fantasized it might be. The solid heat of two strong men against her, and the filthy feel of two hard cocks – Bern’s bare one at her mound, Mike’s against her ass, still covered by his shorts. Bern slid an arm beneath her and one above, and freed her bra clasp. She shivered to imagine how that might look and feel to Mike – to watch another man unwrap her with such brazen entitlement. The pitch of his breathing told her she guessed right. That it made his blood boil in precisely the way he liked best.
“What do you need, honey?” Bern asked.
“You. Always.”
“Inside you?”
She kissed his mouth. “Yeah.”
“Better get your panties off, then.”
Sam could read Bern’s mind in that instant, and smiled to herself as she realized this man served Mike as much as he did her. He planted little invitations like that one, knowing exactly what the move would do to his seeming opponent.
Sam took that segue and rolled with it. She craned her neck and spoke to Mike. “Would you?”
He said nothing, but his mouth was just behind Sam’s ear, and she heard him swallow. He edged along her body and pushed her underwear down her thighs, her calves. Sam slipped her feet free and turned her attention back to Bern. “Get me ready?”
She rested her top knee on Bern’s hip, giving him
access. His fingertips tickled her curls and found her clit. Her leg twitched and he smiled.
Sam reached her hand back to run her nails through Mike’s hair. “You, too. Get me ready.”
Bern’s fingers felt good, but the pleasure heightened tenfold when Mike’s touch joined the game. He reached between her legs from behind, the edge of his hand brushing the length of her sex. With them both working at the same task, she was struck by just how well the man at her back knew her body. He touched her with a smooth, subtle perfection, knowing every spot to hit, the exact pressure and friction. She wanted him to slide those fingers inside her as he had countless times, to tease her into hysterics with the promise of his cock.