by Sam Mariano
“No one is whipping anyone with anything,” I state. “Well, I’m not entirely opposed to a little light spanking, but… none of this. I was totally okay with that, I was just surprised. The surprise is a good thing, not bad,” I assure Griff. “I wasn’t in pain, I was just…” Griff finally tears his glare away from Sebastian and looks at me. I smile faintly and run the back of my hand along his strong jaw. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but you never have to protect me from Sebastian.”
Griff watches me for another moment, but he must not be entirely satisfied because he glares at Sebastian again. “I don’t like that shit.”
“Well, I do,” Sebastian replies, a hint of challenge in his tone.
I feel like I’ve swallowed my heart. Since I’m the only peacekeeper currently, I shift my body until I’m more or less draped across Griff’s chest. I kiss his neck and let my hand move down to rub his cock until I feel some of the tension leave his body. “We all need to play nice,” I murmur against his skin.
“Nice is not hitting one another,” Griff states.
“He didn’t hit me.”
“Hitting with a belt is still hitting. That’s too rough.”
“Griff,” I say, caressing and kissing with as much tenderness as I can pour out. “You know Sebastian would never hurt me. He was just playing.”
Instead of letting me continue to soothe Griff’s temper, Sebastian grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks me back with more force than is typical. Cognizant of Griff’s attention, I keep quiet, but dread moves through me. I have a bad feeling that Sebastian has a point to prove now, and he can only use me to do it. With little tenderness, watching Griff’s face instead of me, he shoves my face toward his cock.
I peer up at him pleadingly, but he doesn’t see it. Even tilting my head back that much pulls my hair since his grip is so tight. I don’t want him to damage the progress we’ve made in a fit of anger, and I’m afraid he’s going to. He can’t take me from Griff because he’s pissed and then expect him to feel secure. There’s also the chance he’s going to use me more violently than Griff can stomach watching and they’re going to end up in an all-out brawl.
I want to try to get Sebastian’s attention to calm him now, but I’m afraid of coming off the wrong way to Griff. He’s not as into my submissive side as Sebastian, so it could rub him the wrong way if I try to make amends for something Sebastian did.
Fuck.
All I can really do without causing any harm is stroke my husband’s thick cock, then ease forward and take it into my mouth. Maybe he’ll calm down on his own if I do a good enough job. Of course, sometimes Sebastian likes a good angry fuck—and we’re rarely mad at one another, so he takes his ire where he can get it.
I don’t need Griff attacking my husband, though.
I’m not enthusiastic enough so Sebastian shoves his cock to the back of my throat without warning. I start to gag, but he lets me pull back and take him slower. My heart kicks up, visualizing him holding Griff’s gaze while I suck his cock. Ordinarily, Griff would be cool with it, but he’s angry now, so I’m not sure.
I don’t know why they can’t just put their difference in kinks aside and fuck me. Then we’d all feel better about life.
My husband finally speaks as I move my mouth over him, working toward his pleasure. “You don’t get to tell me how to fuck my wife, Griff.”
“She’s mine, too,” Griff states, causing my speeding heart to sink. “You don’t get to hurt what’s mine.”
“She wasn’t hurt,” Sebastian states. “She likes what I do to her. You go too easy on her. I have to keep her balanced out. Sometimes she likes the tender stuff. Sometimes she wants to be used. I know what my wife likes. I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t enjoy.”
“Yeah?” Griff asks, not sounding the least bit threatened. “Why don’t you tell me again how I’m not enough for her when I’m buried deep inside her pussy and she’s coming all over my dick?”
I moan around Sebastian’s cock, throbbing between my legs. I know Griff’s words were aimed at Sebastian, not me, but fuck, I can still enjoy them.
Sebastian’s tone warms slightly. “See? She liked that.” He pets my back and I’m hit with relief. He’s being rational, so he’s probably not going to lock horns with Griff. I wasn’t eager to try to stop that mess. “Don’t worry so much about respecting her when you’re fucking her,” Sebastian advises. “She knows you respect her. She doesn’t need to be convinced. Sometimes she wants you to fuck her like you don’t.”
Now he pulls back on my hair, pulling me off his cock and looking down at me for a moment. “What should we do to you tonight, beautiful?”
I’m so relieved, I can’t keep it off my face. “Anything you want,” I toss back coyly, glancing from Sebastian to Griff.
Sebastian gives me a light shove back on the bed and parts my legs, looking over at Griff. “Now, would you like to measure our dicks, or would you like to put your money where your mouth is and drive yours into my wife until she comes all over it?”
Thankfully for all of us, Griff chooses the second option.
18
Griff
I’m just getting out of the shower when Moira comes into the guest bathroom, face flushed, holding out my phone.
“I didn’t mean to look,” she says, grimacing.
I haven’t even grabbed a towel yet, so I’m standing here ass naked when she runs in. Generally speaking, I like any morning I wake up and get to see Moira first thing, particularly in the bathroom during or after a shower, but right now instead of focusing on the drops of water sliding down my toned abdomen, she’s avoiding looking at me altogether. What the hell did she see on my phone? There shouldn’t be anything that would cause her to react like that.
With a faint frown, I reach out and take it from her much smaller hand. As it transfers into my grasp, the screen lights up. I tap it one more time and it opens straight to a picture of a very naked Ashley splayed across a bed.
“Aw, Christ,” I mutter, turning my own head for a second before dragging the picture away. It shrinks and I see it’s attached to a text message that reads “Thinking of you.”
Instant dread. She’s fucking haunting me. Why won’t she just leave me alone and go away?
Well, that’s a dumb question. There are a lot of reasons; all of them can be found in my bank account or the appraisal report of my fucking house.
Moira starts chattering nervously again. “I didn’t mean to look. I didn’t read your messages back and forth or anything, your phone lit up and it was right next to mine. Sebastian left early this morning so I thought it might be him, but it was obviously your phone, not mine. I wasn’t snooping,” she swears.
Smiling faintly, I put the phone down on the marble counter next to the sink. “I didn’t think you were. Wouldn’t matter if you did. I don’t have anything to hide.”
She doesn’t respond, so she must not agree.
That’s silly. I hook an arm around her waist and drag her against my body. “There’s no back and forth to read. She sends me messages, I ignore them. Normally not messages like that. She must be getting desperate.”
“She has very large breasts,” Moira states.
“Mm hmm,” I murmur, reaching with my free hand for the comb on the counter and dragging it through my hair.
“I mean, I’ve seen them in clothing before, even a bathing suit, but somehow they look bigger without anything covering them. Like, whoa.”
I smile faintly. “I told her not to get them that big. Maybe they’re ‘like, whoa’ now, but according to the studies, they’re going to be a real backache later on.”
Moira’s nose wrinkles up. “Do you like big breasts?”
“I like them Moira-sized,” I inform her. “I just had a picture of a naked woman on my phone and I didn’t even look at her boobs. That should answer your question about my preferences.”
Still, she hesitates. Fidgets. Looks down at my bare nether regions. “We did
n’t really talk extensively about this, but you don’t talk to other women, right? I mean, I know we’re sharing, but we’re sharing exclusively, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Now she looks relieved. “Okay. I was just making sure.”
I shake my head at my stingy little Moira. It’s fine that I have to share her, but she’s clearly not at all interested in sharing me. I like that.
Not that I can even imagine needing to supplement her with someone else. Ashley had a pretty healthy sex drive at our peak, but Moira’s is significantly more active. Beyond the rarest of occasions—vacations early in our relationship—Ashley and I would fuck a few nights a week. It dwindled down to once or twice a week, and then there were the times we went whole weeks without touching.
Whether because Seb trained her that way or it’s just her natural inclination, Moira expects to be fucked every night—some days, twice.
Not that I’m complaining, obviously. I just thought I would get less sex sharing with another man, not more. Moira’s sex drive was a very pleasant surprise.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I tell her.
“Why don’t you just block her number?” she suggests. “If you don’t want to get messages from her, you don’t have to.”
That’s true. Seb made the same suggestion. “I will once the divorce goes through. Until then, I hate to cut off her only way of reaching me. If I do, maybe she gets more desperate. Maybe she shows up on my doorstep. At the club.” I shrug, putting the comb down and raking my fingers through to give my hair a good tousle. “I’d rather delete some text messages than see her face.”
Moira slinks around to the front of me, wrapping her arms around my neck and gazing up at me in a way that makes my heart beat faster. “I like watching you get ready.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm hmm.” She drags her lips along my neck, then lightly bites me.
My cock rises. She obviously feels it because her hand snakes down between my legs and she rubs until it’s painfully hard, straining against her hand like a well-trained pet.
Then she drops to her knees, takes my cock into that sweet mouth of hers, and really gets my morning off to a good start.
Once my baser needs are taken care of, Moira hauls her cute little ass downstairs and starts making me breakfast. She really is a one stop shop, that Moira. I would have never believed someone could be so content living her life, but I’ll be damned if she isn’t convincing.
With her gone, I finally manage to get dressed. Even though it still makes me feel faintly guilty that she waits on me hand and foot, I’m eager to see what she’s making me for breakfast. I like having breakfast with her either way, but since Seb is already gone this morning, I have her all to myself. That’s nice sometimes.
I wonder what she’ll do today. I have the morning clear, so I’m planning to stick around and find out. Technically I should probably leave since I’m trying to behave until this legal shit is taken care of. My car is already stashed in the garage though, so as long as no one is intending to come over and we stay at the house, I should be fine to stay with Moira for a bit.
“Perfect timing,” she announces, flashing me a smile over her shoulder as she plates our breakfast.
I watch her fondly as she puts my plate down, then takes her seat next to me. “Thank you, it looks delicious.”
Moira gives me a light-hearted wink. “I aim to please.”
“You certainly accomplish that,” I assure her, grabbing my fork. “Were you like this before Seb?”
“Like what?” she asks, looking up curiously.
“As… um…” I pause, not entirely sure how to word it. “Sexual?”
“Oh.” She flushes faintly, smiling and looking down at her plate of eggs. “No, not at all. I mean, I had sexual partners, but none as demanding as him. My first boyfriend had a healthy sexual appetite, but not on Sebastian’s level. My second boyfriend had a slow libido, I guess, because we almost never had sex. Or, I guess it could have been because he was too busy cheating on me to fuck me,” she adds, on a faint laugh. “Then after that dickweed was Sebastian, then you.”
Somehow I’m still faintly surprised to hear myself on her list of lovers—ridiculous, given I pounded her into the sofa and the mattress last night, so clearly I’ve made the cut.
“So, four lovers total.”
Moira nods, reaching for her orange juice and taking a sip. “That’s right.”
“No one-night-stands or anything in between?”
“Not really my style,” she answers. “If I’m going to have a sexual relationship with someone, I want to be able to get comfortable with them and open up. To be honest, had I known I would end up with Sebastian, I would’ve just waited for him. I didn’t think men like him existed in real life.”
“He would’ve enjoyed corrupting you,” I tell her, imagining her dressed up in lacy, virginal white, spread across his bed, waiting for him to pounce.
She nods, almost remorseful. “I would have enjoyed letting him. Plus, I would have liked if you two were the only men who’d ever been inside me.”
That shouldn’t be so hot, but fuck, it is. Now I sort of wish that, too.
“You’re the only two to find my G-spot, though,” she says, brightly. “So maybe we can just say the first two don’t count.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Lazy assholes. We’ll definitely say they don’t count.”
Glancing across the table at me, she swallows a bite of her eggs and asks, “What about you?”
I grimace. “You don’t really want a number, right?”
Seeming to reconsider, she grimaces. “No, probably not. More than four?”
I start to laugh, then shift it to a cough when she levels an annoyed look at me. “Yes, slightly more than four.”
“How old were you the first time? That’s probably a safe one.”
“Fifteen.”
“That’s so young.”
I shrug. Didn’t seem young to me. “I think my fifteen and your fifteen were probably a lot different.”
“That’s true,” she murmurs, a little sadly.
I lift my coffee and take a sip, regarding her newly solemn expression. I can tell it makes her sad to think about my childhood, and I hate for Moira to be sad. “No reason to look like that,” I tell her, lightly.
“I just wish I could fix it. I know I can’t take away the pain, but I wish I could’ve at least been there to help you guys through it.”
I shake my head, dismissing the notion. “I didn’t enjoy it at the time, but hardship forms a man. Maybe I come from rough beginnings, but I’d rather go through all I went through and come out a full-grown man than be coddled and grow up to be the cheating little bitch who couldn’t even find your G-spot.”
At that, Moira grins. “True. No one wants to be like him.”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t get to touch you anymore and he incurred your sister’s wrath.
“Bad luck all around.”
“Not luck,” I disagree. “He made his own shitty choices and he paid for them. People who have it too easy in life don’t have to grow. They can rest on their laurels. Men like me and Seb, we learned early to hustle and make our own way. Hell, if I lived a stable life, who knows what kind of asshole I would have grown up to be.”
“I don’t think you could have ever grown up to be an asshole,” she puts in, loyally. “You’re noble and sweet and good.”
I don’t see what she sees when I look in the mirror, that’s for damn sure.
“That’s funny,” I tell her. “That’s not how I see myself, but it is how I see you. Always have. I thought you must have had either the worst possible life, or a completely fucking magical life to come out the way you did.”
Moira smiles faintly, watching her orange juice glass. “No in-between, huh?”
“None.”
“Well, it wasn’t magical,” she informs me. “I can’t say it was the worst, though. Yours was obvio
usly worse than mine since you had no one.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Not necessarily. Sometimes it can be worse to be stuck with the wrong people.”
After a minute, she looks up at me. “Did you ever see the movie Matilda?”
“The girl who could move stuff with her mind, right? Liked to read a lot? Born to a family of morons? Yep, I saw it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have said the family of morons part, but I related to her more than anyone when I was a little girl. We had an old VHS copy of it and I would hide out in the basement and watch it. That’s actually why I started reading. No one in my family did, but I watched this movie with this little girl who didn’t fit into her family either, who got pushed around and made fun of by the people who should be taking care of her, and I thought, ‘hey, that’s me.’ So, Matilda didn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself. She went out and discovered the world on her own. She found her own place since she didn’t fit into the life she was dropped into.” She smiles now. “I loved that.”
“Did you follow in her footsteps?”
“Well, my path was a little less dramatic, but she started my journey. My house was always unpleasant and it made me feel depressed to be there, so as often as I could, I would go to the library after school. I would go on the computers there, peruse books and magazines. I expanded my own horizons. I learned about life outside of my own tiny window of experience. I learned to look at things from other points of view. I met new people—people more like me, sometimes. People completely different. It didn’t matter. I read everything that caught my interest. I fell for roguish heroes, befriended young women facing troubles I would never encounter in my lifetime, read beautiful poetry written by the saddest women, went on boring fishing trips with fictional old men. My world grew and grew, and no one even knew. I could live hundreds of lives in the space of a year, and everyone thought I was just boring old Moira.”
I reach across the table, catching her hand and twining our fingers together. “There’s nothing boring about you.”