Finding Their Balance

by M. Q. Barber

  Thrusts slower but unceasing, Henry led her through climax and onto a mellow plateau. Nestled behind her, he branded her with his cock: a thick, tantalizing stripe of heat rubbing her on each pushback. Reason enough to keep her muscles in motion.

  “My lovely girl.” He drew out the toy, all the way, and lifted her ass cheek. “So pink and open, her pretty petals unfolding.”

  Pushing, she waited for his return. He mastered her again and again, his patience a fraction greater than hers as she chased the rounded tip and welcomed the toy home. The pauses grew longer and the thrusts firmer. Not leisurely now but with driving purpose.

  Jay and his hard-working tongue cast a spell over her clit. Devoted to his task, he helped Henry raise her from the plateau in a steeper climb.

  She strained for each thrust, for the stretch, the slide, and the clenching pleasure.

  “So eager and wanting she is.” The lower Henry’s baritone slid, the higher her arousal ascended. “More than accepting.”

  The delay lasted forever, creating hours in the space of a second and days in the space of three.

  “Craving.”

  Pressure, finally. Pushing the way he’d taught her, she thrust herself onto the probing tip. “God, that’s amazing.”

  Toy switch, for sure. He delved with a broader, blunter, hotter tool, the best yet. Changing the angle alone couldn’t account—the toy popped through like the fat end of her plug.

  Shuddering, Henry groaned and clenched her hip in both hands. Toy-free, neither guiding. The flare squeezing past her muscled ring was the ridge of his cock.

  Henry. Inside her.

  Belly fluttering as she craned to watch him over her shoulder, she eased onto his shaft. Slow, lest he tell her no, but she’d damn well take him in full and rejoice in their snugger-than-snug fit.

  “My bold Alice.” In his kneeling position, he refused her access to more than incomplete thrusts. He kneaded her side, sending ripples and swells through her, turning her into an oscillating wave, and he and Jay the opposing shores. “Would you have more of me?”

  “Always.” Covering his hand, she wedged her fingers underneath.

  He tucked her fingertips in his palm. “Do you see yourself? You embrace this new facet of our love with exquisite form. What a sweet, tugging joy you are.”

  Slow-rocking, he teased her with the head of his cock. Lube gleamed along his exposed shaft and distended veins, Henry firm and thick and holding himself back. He dragged his gaze over her in a stare as measured as the sweep of his charcoal pencils across a sketchpad. Deep, deliberate breaths broadened his chest.

  “I see you.” Her lover. Balanced between power and restraint. Worthy of hushed confessions, of whispered truths and infinite trust. “That’s all I need to see.”

  “What you see”—he drew back, slipping free, his cock jutting toward her—“is what you inspire in me.”

  He lay down behind her and re-entered before the moan of his loss reached her lips. His plunge met her push. As he sank fully, the heat of his groin and the sway of his balls greeted her. Biting her shoulder, he scraped the edge of restraint, the pressure deep but blunt.

  Cast in silhouette and shadow by the bedside lamp, he rose above her. Light skipped off his rounded shoulder and the thick, corded tension in his neck. “Give me your mouth, Alice.”

  Twisting her neck, she offered herself up.

  With his kiss, he drove her into the mattress. He caged her between his bent elbows and savaged her mouth. He tugged her lips and tongue with strength enough to make her nipples ache, as if he’d spliced some shared circuit. His thrusts growing less measured, he snapped against her on every downstroke.

  She stretched with an awareness different from the unthinking acceptance of her usual embrace. Her inner squeeze rippled differently, too, tight and gripping at the base but not revealing his length or depth. Those first inches, though. Fuck. As sensitive as her clit, and every point of pressure tickled by smooth, sliding heaven.

  The bedspread resisted her grasping hands.

  As she curled tight, orgasm building, Jay draped her leg over his shoulder. His slender, muscled back gave great leverage. She drove her foot flat and rocked harder, snugging her ass in the cradle of Henry’s hips.

  Parched and panting, she reveled in quenching Jay’s thirst. He guzzled her down as Henry filled her up.

  Her climax burst with the power to shift continents. Tremors echoed in emptiness and broke along new fault lines. Legs churning, heart pumping, she cracked in Henry’s sheltering arms.

  Behind her, he matched her quaking with his pounding hips. His chest met her shoulder. His stolen kiss cut off her wavering moan. Pulling his mouth free, he loosed a growl as she dragged in a breath. His hips stilled.

  She lay shaking and sweaty with his growl reverberating in her ears and his cock buried in her ass. He’d climaxed without holding back as he often did to demonstrate his control. God, what a powerful thrill.

  He clenched her neck in a teasing bite. “You’re so beautifully unbound when you come, dearest.”

  She squeezed his cock in appreciation. Thank fuck tomorrow was Saturday. Sitting at a desk wouldn’t agree with her in the least. “I’m glad you didn’t feel like waiting.”

  “Eleven months seemed wait enough.” For all the wryness in his tone, he delivered the words with tender care and ticklish kisses. “Thankfully, my Alice is worth every second.” As he shifted his weight, his hips drifted backward.

  She grabbed his forearm. “Don’t go just yet?”

  “Shh, my lovely girl.” He finger-combed her hair, peeling sweaty strands from her cheeks. “You’ve no need to worry. I’ll stay a while longer. As long as I’m able, hmm?” Planting a kiss on her nose, he bathed her in his satisfied musk, the leather note deeper and the citrus sharper. “I’d insist you tell me how sore you are, but I expect your body’s hormonal response is obscuring any tender spots.” He deposited another kiss at the arch of her top lip. “We shared a more enthusiastic workout than I’d planned. Though I wouldn’t alter a moment.”

  “Me neither.” She counted Jay and his talents in her estimation of perfection. Her thigh-squeeze netted a return pat on her belly, but he rested content with his face hidden and his breath a gentle breeze across her lips. “Guess we’ll save that third toy for another night. More incremental adjusting.” The steel cylinder must’ve rolled away when Jay had wrapped her leg around his head. Jesus, she’d turned his hair into a bird’s nest with her gyrations. “Did I lose it?”

  “Lost track, perhaps.” Chuckling, Henry cupped the underside of her ass and rubbed circles. “I employed it during your distraction. The mid-size model ceded to its larger sibling as pleasure overwhelmed you the second time.”

  The difference had slid under her radar. With his widening regimen, he’d prepped her to take him without pain, to revel in him and embrace each moment. Her closest brush with vaginal penetration all night had been Jay fingering her lips while he carried her to bed, yet she’d come three times. If Henry always made anal sex this much fun, she’d never turn him down. “Sneaky man.”

  “I’ll take that as your appreciation for my varied skills, shall I?”

  “Most definitely.” She gave an impish wiggle. “Sir.”

  Swatting her ass, he landed a teasing smack in the sweet spot.

  She served him a dessert-swallowing moan. The sort Jay would make for chocolate cheesecake. That man needed a proper thank-you, a hug, and buckets of praise. She tugged him by his haphazard black locks.

  Jay tipped his head back. She’d made a mess of him, an utterly gorgeous disaster with his broad smile at the center.

  Leaving off his caresses of her hip and ass, Henry smoothed the strands for him. “Did you enjoy your feast? I’m more than certain Alice gloried in furnishing the menu.”

  With a wide stretch, she snagged Jay’s discarded apron. “C’mere, stud. Let me dab your glow.”

  “She’
s delicious.” He wriggled up her body, kissing as he went. “You know me—I love to eat.” He nibbled her stomach. “And eat.” His brief suck at her nipples sent a shiver through her. “And eat.” Arriving in front of her face, he ran his tongue around his lips and gazed past her shoulder. “Washcloth?”

  She dried his cheeks and chin with tender swipes.

  “No need. A hot shower is in order.” Inhaling and circling, Henry ran his nose along her neck. “And the sleep of the well-satisfied.”

  Chapter 10

  Brash and beautiful in his post-orgasm haze, Jay hooked one arm over the subway car’s top grab rail and slung the other around her waist. “I got you, babe.”

  “You have such weird musical taste.” With Henry’s permission, she’d taken Jay in the shower before their date as his weekly room inspection reward. Water beating down her back and his oh-so-fucking-firm abs under her hands. She clutched him now, ostensibly for balance as the T swayed toward Copley. “You’re a decade-blender.”

  “Nope. I just lived in one.” Stealing a kiss, he left minty freshness behind. “Blame my four older sibs.”

  With a hop through the square—literal, as she rubbed the bronze hare’s ears and Jay leap-frogged the patient turtle—they hoofed it down tree-lined Clarendon toward the trendy club where Henry had made their dinner reservation.

  They merited a cozy table off to the side of the crush before the stage. The walls bled artwork, splashes of color on canvas in styles she’d be hard-pressed to name.

  “This is a total Henry pick.” Artsy types congregated by the bar. Five bucks said the menu entreés started at thirty a pop. The stage show promised some big-deal Cuban jazz guy up next. She leaned across the table to make herself heard. “Did he leave an audio file on your phone to narrate the décor for us?”

  Even sending them out for the night, he’d wrapped them in his presence. Noisier and filled with more hipsters than he’d tolerate himself, the restaurant merged his taste with Jay’s energy level.

  “Think he’s got cameras?” Jay shuffled his place setting, dragged his chair around the table, and draped his arm across her back. “I better bring my A-game or he’s not gonna let me, what’s the”—he snapped his fingers—“squire you around town again.”

  She laid her hand on his thigh. “You’re a fantastic date.”

  He proved himself sharing his entrée, raising the gooey, fancy grilled cheese in two hands and curving the corners up with his thumbs. “Smile, Alice. Say ‘cheese’ for Henry.”

  Laughing, she chomped the center and flashed him a cheesy grin. “Eeese.”

  “I like a girl who bites.” As he waggled his eyebrows at her, he tore a huge hunk of sandwich free. Swallowing, he settled back in his seat and squeezed her shoulder. “So?”

  “Sooo?” She washed her food down with sparkling water, having switched after one glass of wine. The surrounding tables emptied bottles with panache, but she and Jay, well—the last time she’d gotten drunk, she’d made stupid-ass decisions. And who the hell knew when the last time Jay’d gotten drunk was, but he’d never do it while escorting her. “It’s good. Bet Henry could make this at home.”

  Knocking his forehead against hers, he chortled. “Not the food. What do I think about twenty-four seven?”

  “Besides food?”

  He nodded, flopping shaggy black hair over his uber-serious face.

  “Sex.”

  Their simultaneous singsong drew glances, laughter, and a few eyerolls from neighboring tables.

  “Last night.” He wore his kid-at-Christmas expression, wide chocolate eyes and white teeth. “Was I right? Did you love it?”

  Hand clamped to his knee, she stretched up and nuzzled him. “You mean when Henry stuffed his cock in my ass? Damn right I loved it.”

  They high-fived, drunker on each other than their neighbors on over-priced cocktails. She fizzed and floated through a world of bright colors, smooth jazz, and sweet, sexy Jay.

  With full bellies and giddy spirits, they ducked out after midnight. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the Fenway bars, even with the Sox out of town for the weekend, and the tourist bars crowding Faneuil Hall, because nobody needed that headache.

  “Home?” Shirt sticking to her back, she debated options at the Green Line entrance. Too muggy for a walk up to the common or down through the fens.

  “Home.”

  The night grew quieter with each stop, until the train disgorged them on a silent street and trundled off. Heat swarmed in thick bands, the sluggish breeze hoisting a white flag of surrender.

  Jay slipped his hand in hers. “You think they’re okay?”

  Optimum believable outcome, she’d open the door on Henry and Emma laughing over happy memories. “Maybe he took her home.” Yeah, if the night hadn’t been as rough as Henry implied it’d be. So no. “Or she’s asleep.”

  “I dunno.” Jay swung his head. “The club’s busiest at night. She’s used to staying up.”

  Probably true, but not what she’d meant. The night might’ve knocked Emma out with an emotional punch.

  “I met her husband.” He dropped his foot off the curb and kicked a stone. “At the club. When I—when the board—”

  Squeezing his hand, she slowed to match his restless amble.

  “He seemed stern. More serious than Henry at his seriousest.” His half-hearted smile faded with the breeze.

  “Tough guy?” She’d pictured the class and refinement Emma breathed.

  “Not a hulked-out linebacker. Different tough.”

  “Intense.” The sort of man Henry would respect and emulate.

  “Yeah.” He stared up into the cloudy darkness. “Wish it’d rain.”

  Though his feet knew the route by heart, she guided him down the sidewalk and around the corner. He plodded beside her like a puppy heeling left.

  “She took me shopping.” Tap tap tap went his fingers, a jittery Morse code in her palm. “Back then, I mean.” Tap tap. “So I could impress Henry.”

  Their building sat across the intersection. The living room windows glowed behind drawn shades. Emma’s influence touched both of her men.

  In a quick head turn, Jay cast her a glance and tugged his lip.

  “I’m glad.” She meant it, too. No faking required to reassure her sensitive submissive. “She must’ve seen how good you are for each other.” He’d been her jovial playmate twenty minutes ago, but each step toward home added a pound on his shoulders. Funny. She’d expected to be the foot-dragger. “You make him so happy.”

  “I think she knew how hung up on him I was.” He hopped to and opened the doors for her. “She never said he was out of my reach or, or, or that guys shouldn’t be subs.”

  She pulled him into a hug. “Of course she didn’t.”

  As the inner door clicked shut, he clung to her in the middle of the lobby.

  “Henry decides who can reach him.” Whatever weighed on Jay had settled like a yoke. His muscles refused to yield to her kneading. Abandoning the attempt, she backed up. “He let you in because he loves you.”

  Head bowed, he dropped his gaze. His knees twitched as if he meant to slide into a waiting pose, but he grabbed her hands. “She taught me how to set the table for him.”

  Table, sure. He was traveling all over the map, and she’d lost her set of directions. “That was nice of her.”

  Even years later, he prized that task. The nights when she’d gotten home and Jay hadn’t set the table numbered so low they wouldn’t register outside a margin of error.

  “No, I mean, she did it herself. Taught me.” Shuffling his feet, he swayed their linked arms. “For him, ’cause she wanted it done right, I know, but she didn’t—she could’ve—she gave me her time and answered my questions.”

  “She gave you advice. Like”—the fucking light bulb erupted—“a friend.”

  He didn’t want her to resent Emma. He’d dragged his feet and babbled because he’d watched h
er wage a mental competition for weeks against an opponent she should’ve considered a teammate.

  “She said she’d learned the same way I was, one step at a time.” He carried her left hand to his shoulder. “She didn’t wonder anymore what made her dominant happy.” His hand landed on the swell of her hip. “They’d grown together and she just knew.”

  Alice had a responsibility to protect him, and she’d made him uncomfortable calling Emma his friend in front of her. As if liking Emma would be disloyal.

  “I said I couldn’t picture her husband happy because he looked so scary.” Raising her right hand, he nudged into her space.

  She slipped backward. He’d dipped his head, and the dimmed night lighting in the common areas limned him in a faint glow. “What’d she say?”

  “Confidence looks intimidating when you haven’t found it in yourself yet.” With a near-imperceptible tug, he guided her two steps forward.

  Emma’d intimidated her from their first meeting. Her poised perfection, her close association with Henry, her—confidence. Emma danced in a world where she’d only begun to master crawling.

  Jay swept her backward. The restaurant had been too crowded, but in the silent lobby, on refinished boards between the laundry and the stairs, he glided her through Henry’s dancing lesson. “She said confidence and arrogance weren’t the same, especially in a dominant, and I’d know I had the right dom for me when he was—” He flicked his tongue between his lips. “When he was intimidating enough to be arousing, wise enough to keep me safe, and caring enough to help me grow, even when the right choices were hard ones.”

  “Smart woman.” Admitting Emma had been a friend to Jay cost her nothing. Understanding what Jay needed reaped rewards she’d see in him every day. Resentment slipped away, so much grit ground into fineness. “That sure sounds like Henry.”

  Jay halted their dance. Brown eyes steady and deep, he grazed her mouth with a kiss. “Like you, too, Mistress Alice.”