by Elia Winters
He wanted more.
She came over to him and sat beside him on the couch, and he kissed her hard. She tasted like alcohol and sin and everything he wanted to devour. She shivered in his arms, soft, pliant, receptive. She’d been brought near the edge, and arousal must be burning her veins. She wasn’t the only one: his cock was hard enough to burst the seams on his trousers. She brushed against him, her hand skimming up his thigh and then not so innocently touching his length, and he gasped against her mouth.
“You didn’t let me come,” she murmured.
“Did you want that?” he asked between kisses. “Want me to make you come in Zach’s arms? Have him hold you as you fell apart?”
Abby moaned. “It sounds filthy like that.”
“It is. It’s filthy. Filthy for you to come while another man holds you.” This was turning a corner in his mind, and he had to tell her what was really on his mind, had to confess this while he was still fuzzy from arousal and alcohol and the intoxicating taste of Abby. He broke the kiss and glanced at the bar, where Zach was now sitting on a barstool, watching him and Abby. What must be going through Zach’s mind right now? Did he know?
“I don’t want you to come while he’s dancing with you. I want you to come while he’s fucking you.”
Abby’s lips parted, her eyes going wide, then narrow, filled with lust. She licked her lips, pink tongue stroking over the sensitive petal-soft flesh, and oh, if only those lips were wrapped around his cock right now, or even better, wrapped around someone else’s cock while he watched. She locked eyes with him. “Say it again.”
The words spilled out, filthy and honest. “I want to watch you two together. I want to tell him how to fuck you and tell you how to please him. I want to see you come on his cock.” He’d never given voice to these thoughts before, just like he’d never thought about power exchange, but everything entwined in his brain to watching Abby coming helplessly apart in climax.
Abby glanced over at the bar, indecision on her face.
“Do you want to fuck him?” Sam asked. This couldn’t be a favor. This couldn’t be something she did just for him. “Don’t do this just to please me.”
Abby’s expression turned hesitant, then guilty. “I had a thing for him. Back in college. We never hooked up.” Abby bit her lip, but she wasn’t turned off by the idea; her flushed cheeks and rapid breathing told him all he needed to know. She wanted this, and maybe she didn’t want to want it, but the signs were all over her face.
“It’s okay,” he said, more quietly, and she could probably read his lips more than hear him.
Abby got to her feet, then paused once more, and Sam nodded at her. Then she went over to the bar, crossing the dance floor without another look to either side, and moved into Zach’s space, close enough to touch.
If only he could be a fly on the wall to hear what she said to him. But it wasn’t much, maybe just an invitation to talk, before she took him by the hand and led him over to the couch where Sam was sitting.
Zach sat down on Abby’s other side, a look of puzzled interest on his face, but not so much puzzlement as one might expect. Maybe he knew what was coming. Maybe he could read the signs.
Abby let go of his hand, put both hands on her thighs, and angled her body slightly toward Zach. He was a beautiful man, with his thick, curly hair and that tawny skin that was practically gold. Right now, his gaze flicked between Sam and Abby. Abby was the one who spoke. “Thanks for dancing with me earlier.”
Zach laughed, a surprised laugh, and stretched one arm along the back of the couch. Like Abby, he angled his body, those long legs close to brushing hers. “It was not a favor, I promise. I would dance with you anytime.” As if remembering Sam, he looked past Abby. “You’re a lucky man, with a beautiful woman like this.”
“Thanks.” Sam could be the one to broach this, but it felt weird, like he was brokering some sort of exchange, and then Abby spoke up.
“You were wondering why we never hooked up in college,” she said. “How we just kept missing each other. Ships in the night.” With one tentative hand, she reached out and rested her fingertips on Zach’s leg. All the air left the room, and Sam felt the touch on his own body, suddenly dizzy with the tension and unexpected intimacy. “What if we gave that another chance?”
Zach stilled. His gaze flickered from Abby to Sam, and back again. “I think you should be a little more specific.”
Abby didn’t look away. “Sam and I have been trying a few new things. And he”—she paused, taking a breath—“likes to watch.”
Zach relaxed, that same lazy smile crossing his face. “Interesting.” He turned his attention to Sam. “I can’t say I blame you. Abby is gorgeous.”
“I want to watch her with another man.” Sam said it again, confessing this into the anonymous darkness of this club, confessing to this person, confessing it to himself. “I want to watch her with you. I want to see you make her come apart.”
Zach stroked a thumb across his bottom lip, thinking, looking at them each in turn. “What about you, Abby?” His smile turned wicked, a lustful, playful smile. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
Abby shuddered, all the way down her body, and turned aside with a blush and a laugh, pulling her hand back from his leg. “God, Zach, just blurting it out like that.”
“That wouldn’t have bothered you ten years ago,” Zach said. “Ten years ago, you’d have asked for what you want. So ask for what you want.”
She turned to face Zach, but one of her hands went to Sam’s knee, resting there, anchoring her to him even as she looked at the other man. “I want you to fuck me.”
Zach lifted his arm from the back of the couch and slid it gently into Abby’s red hair. Less than a foot from Sam’s face, his fingers carded through those locks, cupping the back of her head, holding her. Abby’s fingers dug into Sam’s thigh, her grip tightening. Zach leaned in and closed his mouth over hers.
Jesus Christ. The secondhand sensation resonated through Sam’s whole body like a caress, and Abby’s hand gripping his thigh echoed her gasp. Zach kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and here, only inches away, Sam watched him coax her mouth and slant her head to the side.
Then, slowly, he pulled away. His hand slipped from Abby’s hair, the tresses falling back where they were, and he licked his lips as if to savor her taste. He turned to Sam first, and asked once more. “You want to watch me fuck your wife?”
The words stuck in Sam’s throat, but from desire, not hesitation. “More than anything.”
“Abby.” Zach smiled at her, gently touching her cheek. “Do you want me?”
Abby exhaled. “Yes.”
Zach licked his lips once more, then nodded. “Where do you live?”
Chapter Six
Abby’s nerves were jangling by the time they got home. She’d driven, having had only one drink, and their car ride was pretty silent. Fortunately, so was the vibrator, a kickoff to the evening that was escalating faster than she intended.
“You sure about this?” she asked Sam again, for the first time since they’d said it in the club.
“Completely. You?” He glanced over at her.
“Yes.” She swallowed. “I’m nervous.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
That was such a glimpse of the Sam she was familiar with, the Sam who would never push her comfort zone even when she wanted to be pushed, and it simultaneously comforted and frustrated her. “I do want this. I want all of it.”
She parked the car in front of their house, the lights from Zach’s car swinging into the driveway behind them.
“You ever do this before?” Sam asked.
“Never.” Nothing anything remotely like this. “This is a first.”
“Good.”
He leaned across the car and kissed her, hard, his mouth bruisingly intense. This was a claiming kiss, a kiss of certainty, a kiss that made her knees go weak. “Come on.” He fo
llowed up that kiss with a light one. “Let’s get inside.”
Zach took his coat off at the door and accepted Sam’s offer of a Scotch and soda, sitting next to Abby on the couch. He looked around, complimenting the house, the location close to town, the normal bits of small talk one would have with a new visitor. Outside of the dim lights and pounding music of the club, reality pressed in on all sides, and Abby still wanted this. They were sitting so close their knees brushed, and she took some of the whisky Sam offered in order to settle her nerves.
Sam sat down on the chair nearby, but not on the sofa with her and Zach. How did someone start something like this? There was a moment where he was in the house, welcomed, having a drink, having polite conversation, and somehow, this was supposed to move to the bedroom. Sometime. Anytime.
Zach’s hand drifted to the back of Abby’s neck again, where he’d touched her in the club, right before kissing her. He brushed his fingers lightly through her wavy hair, sending a shiver all the way down her body. Another pause, a moment where her body lit up from the inside. Zach stroked his fingertips lightly on the back of her neck. “Do you want to show me around?”
Abby got shakily to her feet, smoothing her dress down her hips. She put her mostly untouched whisky on the coffee table next to Zach’s drink, then looked at Sam. This was a moment for him to say he needed more time, or wasn’t ready, or something like that. Instead, he leaned back, crossed one ankle over his other knee, and sipped his whisky, his eyes dark with lust.
“Well.” Sam smiled devilishly and gestured down the hall. “You’d better go show him around.”
There weren’t many rooms to show in their small house, and all too soon they were in the bedroom, Abby’s heart pounding as she flicked on the light. She turned to face Zach, ready to say something unnecessary about this being the bedroom.
He was closer than she had expected. When she breathed in, she could smell his cologne. Whatever words she was going to say vanished from her lips, and she froze, suddenly caught up in the weight of that moment.
Reaching up, Zach slid one hand into Abby’s hair, cupping the back of her head while he stepped in the rest of the way. He pressed up against her, his whole body aligning with hers, and kissed her as confidently and thoroughly as he had in the club. His mouth slanted over hers, firm and hot, and every bone in her body went liquid. His arms around her were the only reason she didn’t melt into the floor. With his hand in her hair like this, she felt completely enclosed, held, fully engulfed in this moment. She hadn’t kissed another man in so long, not until tonight. It was the same and yet totally different from kissing Sam. And hotter. And illicit. Or maybe hot because of how illicit it was? It was hard to think, and then he had his tongue in her mouth, and fuck, Zachary Levine could kiss.
When he pulled away, she was dazed, and it took a minute for her brain to catch up to her body. She was standing in her bedroom with a man she was going to fuck, a man who was not her husband.
Right. Her husband. Sam. He’d somehow come in while she was kissing Zach, and she hadn’t realized it, and now he was sitting in the chair in the corner, posed in the same way he’d been in the living room, ankle over knee, and he’d even brought the whisky with him. Watching. When she looked over at him, dazed, he smiled a small, intimate smile just for her, the kind that made a little shiver run down her spine. Zach looked over, too, an uncertain expression on his face, and Sam lifted his chin slightly in a nod.
Zach leaned in to kiss Abby again. She could get lost in those kisses, the way the sweep of his tongue drove the world away, his lips teasing her mind into nothingness. A sudden brush of fabric against her thighs made her break the kiss and look down. Zach was tugging at the hem of her dress, lifting it up. “I want to get you out of this.”
She let him strip her, pulling that dress up and off, leaving her in front of him in her black lace bra and panties, the ones she’d put on earlier when Sam had first shown her the vibe. The vibe she was still wearing, that Zach would undoubtedly discover soon enough.
Zach let out a slow breath of air through pursed lips, almost a whistle but not quite, and then, “Damn.” His eyes had settled on her breasts, straining the generous cups of her bra. He moved in again, but then paused. “I’ll stop anytime. Just ask.”
Abby huffed out a laugh. “Don’t you dare stop.”
In the corner, Sam chuckled, and the sound of his laugh was as reassuring as any words he could have spoken. Smiling, Zach cupped her breasts through her bra, his large hands warm against her skin, his touch sending a shiver through her body. A gentle squeeze, just a bit of pressure, and she was pressing herself farther into his grip. He brushed his thumbs over the nipples hardening inside the lace cups, the light touch making her tremble. He was watching her reactions this whole time. When he gave them a gentle twist, just a bit, she had to let out a little breath of air.
Nodding knowingly, he did it again, harder, evoking more of a moan. She couldn’t help making noise.
To her surprise, Zach looked over at Sam and addressed him directly. “So she likes it rough like that?”
“She does.” Sam raised his glass to his lips. “You can probably go harder.”
Those words hit Abby like a physical touch, arousal spiking through her body. Zach’s answering grin made Abby’s toes curl, and the way he twisted her nipples even harder made her sag against his touch. He could make her come apart just like this, standing in the middle of her bedroom. But she didn’t want to just be a passive recipient. She wanted to participate.
Zach let her unbutton his dress shirt and cast it aside, then pulled his undershirt over his head. His chest was muscled, the leanness of a swimmer’s body plus the additional build from age, and the tone of his skin made him look like a gleaming golden statue in the soft light of the lamps. After a moment’s hesitation, she put a hand flat on the center of his chest, the warmth from his skin radiating into hers.
“Come on.” Zach took her wrist in his hand and stepped in closer to her. “How about you get on the bed?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” She licked her lips and watched him follow her tongue, then he used that grip on her wrist to pull her closer for another fierce, harsh kiss. That one took a moment to recover from. Across the room, Sam was watching, and that made the situation more real, more exciting and dangerous, but also somehow…comforting. He would be here the whole time.
Abby sat down on the bed, scooting into the middle, as Zach climbed up onto it with her. There was another man in her bed. Someone who wasn’t Sam, someone who wanted her, someone who was going to fuck her while her husband watched her get fucked. Jesus. It was amazing he couldn’t see her heart beating through her chest.
He didn’t ask before reaching behind her to find the clasp on her bra, and he removed it expertly, one-handed. She hadn’t had a guy do that since high school. She was half naked, down to just her underwear, in front of this man she barely knew and hadn’t seen since college, this man who was leaning in to kiss her like he meant it, this man who was pushing her down onto the bed and lying on top of her. He kissed his way down her neck, finding the place where it met her shoulder, and he bit down gently, then a little harder. “Hmm.” He made a little happy noise and then moved farther down her body until he was hovering at her breasts, and he sucked one nipple into his mouth.
She swore and arched up off the bed. Her gaze found Sam still sitting on the chair, his whisky set aside now, watching her intently with lust in his eyes. Zach moved to her other breast, biting the nipple and pinching the one he had left. She was on fire, burning up from the inside out, and she was soaking wet through her underwear.
“I love how you squirm.” Zach caught the edge of her underwear with his fingers, giving her a cheeky smile. “May I?”
Dazed with lust, she nodded. “There’s…something,” she began, but he was already pulling the scrap of fabric from her body, leaving her naked in front of him…naked except a small, teal vibrator nestled between her folds.
>
Zach stared down, puzzlement swiftly shifting to amusement. “Are you wearing a vibrator? Were you wearing a vibrator to the club tonight?” He looked over at Sam, then down at Abby, incredulous and amused.
Abby started laughing, because it was all so ridiculous and amazing, and nodded.
“Fuck, that is so hot.” He dropped back down to kiss her again, fierce, firm, breathtaking. “Did you have it on when you were dancing with me?”
“I did,” she confirmed.
“Jesus. If only I had known.” He groaned, then dropped his head to her chest, as if it were all too much. Then he moved away from her to slip out of his slacks, revealing a substantial erection behind black boxer briefs. This couldn’t be real. Sam was focused on them both, and having two sets of eyes watching was somehow more than twice as intense. Both of them made her feel beautiful.
“Can I remove this?” Zach asked, his finger resting against the vibrator, over her clit, so close to touching her directly. She nodded, suddenly struggling to find breath. He carefully, carefully slid the toy from her soaked pussy, his fingers barely brushing her as he did so. It came away glistening with her juices. Then, holy fucking shit, he licked it.
She made a noise, a choked gasp, and he grinned and did it again. “You taste incredible,” he murmured, before putting the toy on the nightstand and kneeling between her legs. Before she could recover, he spoke to Sam. “Tell me how you want me to touch her.”
Sam’s answer came right away. “Spread her open. Don’t let her hide.”
The command in his voice was so damn hot. Zach sat cross-legged between her thighs, forcing her legs apart with his position. She was exposed like this, body lewdly stretched out for his perusal. He looked down at her pussy. “You’re so wet. Look at you. You like having a strange man between your legs?”
