A Valentine's Day Treat: Two Short Stories

by Sam Mariano

  Fuck. I open my mouth to say stop and Mateo must sense it, because he cuts me off, sealing his lips over mine. His kiss heightens my arousal to an unbearable degree. I already can’t concentrate with Rafe’s masterful tongue ravaging my pussy. I’m too overwhelmed by both of them, so I pull back from Mateo.

  I need to focus on Rafe right now. It isn’t a conscious decision; my brain is no longer invited to this party, robbed of its invitation by Rafe’s sinful mouth. It’s hard to breathe with him latched onto my pussy like this and I need to come so he’ll let me go. I look down now and realize his fingers are digging into my thighs. A thrill shoots through me. He liked when I grabbed his hair, so I do it again, tugging it and bucking my hips against his face.

  He offers up an approving chuckle, moving his hands to my ass and pulling me even tighter against his face.

  “Oh, fucking fuck,” I murmur mindlessly, raking my hands through my own hair.

  He stops tasting my pussy just long enough to tell me, “Say my name, Mia.”

  “Rafe,” I say, quietly at first. He uses his fingers to spread me and stabs his tongue inside me again, easily finding the path to pleasure he found before. He wraps his hands around my thighs again, digging his fingers into my soft skin. “Rafe,” I cry again, a little less composed as his tongue sweeps inside me, wreaking havoc on my body’s basic ability to function. In a disconnected way, I know I had concerns a minute ago, but damned if I can remember what any of them were. All I can think about is the tightening in my stomach, my heart slamming around in my chest as Rafe devours my pussy, as his fingers dig into my thighs like they belong to him, as I cry out his name and ride his face.

  When his tongue takes me over the edge, I scream for him. His fingers dig in and I whimper his name. Shame sneaks in with the overload of satisfaction, but as pleasure explodes in my body, I can’t focus on it. My orgasm is so intense—perhaps in part because it feels so wrong to come for Rafe—it drains the energy out of my body. I’m putty in his hands as he snakes his arms up behind me and easily shifts my weight, rolling me onto my back and climbing on top of me.

  I need him close, so I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me. I have a tenuous grip on anything outside of this moment, but I remember it’s important that I don’t kiss him on the mouth.

  He gives me a cute little smirk and says, “That good, huh?”

  I shove at his shoulder with all the strength of a limp noodle. “You know how good it was,” I mutter.

  Since it’s all I can do, I bury my face in his shoulder. Then I kiss his neck, since I can’t kiss his mouth. I wish I could. His mouth really deserves a thank you for that performance. My stomach still doesn’t feel right. Fuck, I’m already tired. It doesn’t help that this comes right on the heels of Mateo fucking me before he left earlier.

  Since Rafe has me lying here, boneless and lacking the ability to resist, let alone the interest, he takes advantage. His big hand comes up to palm my breast. My nipple instantly pebbles for him, and the throbbing starts up again between my legs.

  “Too bad we aren’t at my house,” Rafe murmurs, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I could break out a couple toys. You’d like playing with me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, closing my eyes.

  His voice is so calmly commanding, so entrancing. I don’t even have to pay attention as he lulls me with it. “Yes, of course you would. You’d let me do whatever I want to you, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  His golden head drops and he takes my nipple into his mouth, brushing the other with his thumb to keep them both stimulated. I squirm already, my spent body somehow finding it within to need again. I can feel arousal gathering between my legs. Rafe’s hand moves downward like he can hear my thoughts. It moves gently over my slightly swollen abdomen, then dips between my legs. I don’t know what I want, exactly, but I let my legs fall open so he can have whatever it is he wants from me.

  Rafe smiles at me approvingly.

  “Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt.”

  I think he’s talking to me, and then for a horrifying moment, I realize he’s talking to Mateo. I try to squeeze my legs shut, but Rafe’s hand holds one thigh in place and Mateo’s shoots out to grab the other one, keeping me spread open for them to look at.

  “Looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Mateo remarks.

  “You love to be fucked, don’t you, little one?”

  My face flushes, but I don’t answer. I would have a minute ago, but I can’t get a good read on Mateo right now.

  Rafe sinks a finger inside me while Mateo watches my face, hears the way my breath hitches. I meet his gaze, afraid for a moment, needing to know this is okay. It’s too late if it isn’t—he just watched me come so hard on Rafe’s face that I legitimately forgot where I was for a minute, but he’s poker facing me and I can’t tell.

  It breaks through the lust fog. The idea that maybe Mateo isn’t okay with this.

  “Stop,” I tell Rafe.

  Rafe doesn’t stop. He keeps touching me, but after a moment, he frowns and looks at Mateo. “What’s her safe word?”

  Mateo doesn’t take his eyes off me, and he still doesn’t show me a sliver of emotion. “She doesn’t have one.”

  Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up and he withdraws his finger from my body. “She doesn’t have a safe word? I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “I don’t care,” Mateo returns, levelly.

  A knot of fear slides through my torso and I roll on my side, just so I’m not splayed here on my back anymore. I liked being on my back for them when I thought this was going okay, but now I’m not sure.

  “Mateo?” I ask, quietly.

  “Having fun?” His voice is cold, and it nearly stops my heart.

  Alarm courses through me and I push up, stumbling on my not-quite recovered arms to sit up in front of him. “Are you okay?”

  Instead of answering, he grabs my hair and shoves my face into the mattress, hard. Fear shoots through me, but I don’t know if this is a game or it isn’t. I have no idea. My hand shoots out and grasps whatever it can—his thigh. I swallow and try to lift my head up, but he pushes me back down.

  Rafe has fallen silent, but I don’t care. I only care that Mateo doesn’t hate me. I care that I haven’t hurt him. I care about making it up to him that he just watched me come for someone else. I knew he wouldn’t be okay with it. I knew he was wrong.

  I don’t know if it will work this time, but I whisper, “Please. I need you.”

  The pressure on my head eases up. He lets me lift my head, then allows me to move closer and lean between his legs. He’s hard as a rock and I want to relieve him, so I grasp his thick cock in my hand and rub, stealing a tentative look up at his face.

  Still nothing. I wouldn’t even know from his facial expression that I’m stroking him.

  The fear intensifies. I drop my face between his legs and take his cock into my mouth, worshipping it with my lips and my hands, caressing him with my tongue. The taste of him drives me wild. Even with all the fear and uncertainty coursing through me, I can feel arousal drip between my legs as I suck the smooth head of his cock. I take him all next, clear into my throat. I care nothing for my comfort right now, only his. When he’s lodged at the base of my throat, when he’s completely invading me, I feel relief. I’ll stay here all night if he lets me, sucking him, bringing him pleasure, letting him know how sorry I am.

  I hate disappointing him, but there’s little as intoxicating as trying to make it up to him. My heart beats in my stomach, my nerves are a wreck, my pussy clenches around nothing, needing him to come inside, and all I can taste is my husband. All I can feel is his pull and his darkness. All I want is to feel his love, but he won’t open that door yet. I need to convince him. I need to earn it. I moan around his perfect cock as I ease back and take him all again.

  “Jesus, she is enthusiastic.”

  Rafe.

  Cold fear shoots through
me at the reminder and I suck harder. I rub my tongue along Mateo’s length the way I know he loves. I moan again so he can feel my pleasure.

  “Enough,” Mateo says, sharply, tugging my hair.

  Reluctantly, I pull my mouth off his cock and look up at him. I stay low because I feel low, because I need him above me. He still looks at me coldly and it shouldn’t, but it turns me on more. I need to try harder. I need to do more.

  “Please, Mateo.”

  His voice is hard. “Please what?”

  “I need you inside me. Please.”

  “You need me inside you? You need me inside that pussy that’s so wet for Rafe?”

  My heart drops. The whole world ceases to rotate and I struggle to draw in a breath.

  Then he grabs a fistful of hair, yanks me back on the bed, and moves over me, planting himself between my legs. I’m a little breathless, looking up at him with wide eyes.

  He drops the poker face and smiles, familiar warmth coming back into those brown eyes as he murmurs, “Good.”

  My heart kicks forward and my whole body weakens with relief. I wrap my arms around my devious husband and pull him close, still not completely trusting it. “We’re okay? Everything’s good? You promise?”

  Mateo answers my question by crushing his lips against mine in a kiss so possessive, my lips feel faintly bruised. He’s not normally like this, and the sheer thrill of it intoxicates me. My desire for this man comes to life and beats between my legs. His tongue demands entrance between my lips and I open for him immediately, wrapping my legs around his hips and drawing him tightly against me. When he finally pulls back, he answers the invitation my hips are issuing. “We’re not going to fill you up just yet, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart. The endearment rolls over me like a salve.

  Despite the convincing heat of his kiss, I need verification he isn’t mad, so I run my hands over his pecs and meet his gaze. “You promise you’re not mad at me?”

  His hand comes up to caress my jaw, to cradle my face and pull me into him. “I promise.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief and burrow into Mateo’s chest for comfort. He wraps his arms around me, one hand rubbing my back for reassurance. I’m craving his pleasure hard, so I reach between his legs to stroke him while he holds me.

  “You two are something else,” Rafe states.

  Even though he only murmurs, Mateo sounds pretty self-satisfied. “Mm hmm.”

  “I’ve met some kinky bitches in my time, but none that have enjoyed having their mind quite so thoroughly fucked as part of a sexual experience. Isn’t it sore from earlier tonight? It’s like you’ve trained her to greet mental torture with insatiable lust.”

  “You wanna keep working up your diagnosis, or you wanna fuck my wife?” Mateo asks.

  “That should be an easier decision,” Rafe mutters, but I can still feel the bed move as he crawls closer. “I want to play with her first, but I want a safe word. She needs to know there’s a way out if she wants one.”

  “No safe words,” Mateo says, shaking his head. “We don’t play that way.”

  “It isn’t for you, it’s for me.”

  “You’re not giving my wife a safe word,” he states, implacably.

  Rafe’s tone is hard and annoyed. “I have to.”

  Mateo answers back, slightly mocking. “Why? Is there an invisible judge here, making sure you adhere to your stupid rules? Will you be kicked out of the club if you break them once?”

  “It’s the only way I can know I’m not hurting her,” Rafe states.

  Unmoved, Mateo says, “I said no. Fuck her or don’t, but none of that shit.”

  “You said I could play with her however I wanted to.”

  “You can.”

  “Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?”

  Sensing the tension between them ratcheting up, I pull out of Mateo’s embrace and turn toward Rafe. He’s scowling at Mateo and the clash I was worried about seems inevitable, so I do my part to ease it.

  Rafe’s dark gaze shifts to me as I reach for his dress shirt and start undoing the buttons. Since I can still feel the agitation in his tense, muscled body, as soon as a swatch of tanned skin is exposed, I lean forward and kiss it. His gaze is still thunderous when I peer up at him, but as I slip the next few buttons through their holes and my kisses move lower and lower down his muscled torso, his annoyance begins to fade.

  As many men as my husband pisses off, it’s nice that this time he’s pissing off one I can soothe with my body. I used to manage Vince that way on Sunday nights, but he was such a loose cannon. He couldn’t let it go. Rafe will probably let it go once I show him we can have fun and still play by Mateo’s rules.

  Now his shirt is undone, hanging open, and I peer up at him with a little smile as my fingers pull the buckle of his belt loose. I can feel how hard he is already beneath the fabric as my hand brushes him. He knows I followed up with kisses, so he must know where this is heading.

  Judging by his hooded gaze as I draw off his belt, he does. He takes the strip of leather from me, fisting it in his strong hand, but then he seems to reconsider and tosses it off the side of the bed.

  “Have you ever fucked another man’s wife?” Mateo asks, almost conversationally.

  “Not in front of him,” Rafe replies dryly, keeping his eyes on me.

  I drag down the zipper and push the button through his slacks, peering up at Rafe one more time before pulling them down past his hips. “Have you imagined this before?” I ask him.

  “Of course I have,” he replies.

  Rubbing him through the fabric of his boxer briefs, I ask, “When was the first time?”

  “When you made me breakfast. Should’ve just killed Vince and taken you that day.”

  His casual violence does things to me, even if I would never have wanted him to kill Vince.

  “Fuck, I wish you had,” Mateo mutters. “I would’ve completely forgiven you fucking my wife if I got a dead Vince out of it.”

  Rafe’s lips curve up in faint amusement. “Why do you assume I would’ve given her back?”

  That’s not nice. I promptly drag down his underwear so I can turn his thoughts to much less antagonistic places, but not before Mateo replies easily, “Because I would’ve killed you if you hadn’t.”

  “Guys, come on,” I mutter. “Channel that violent energy into fucking me, not fucking with each other.”

  Mateo knee-crawls up behind me. His hand moves down the center of my back, then he smoothes it over my ass. “Suck Rafe’s cock, sweetheart. I’m going to play with you while you do.”

  Oh, fuck.

  Given not only permission, but instruction, I look over the impressive length and girth of Rafe Morelli. I’m used to a well-hung man, but I’m not disappointed to find tonight I get two of them. The closest I ever got to Rafe’s cock in Vegas was in the pool. I felt his hardness between my legs, but he had swim shorts on, and I had bikini bottoms. He may have pushed his fingers inside, but never his cock.

  “Like what you see?” Rafe asks.

  “Why don’t I show you?” I offer back, rather innocently considering the next thing I do is bend and take it into my mouth. Mateo shoves a finger into my pussy as I do, and I can’t help moaning.

  “Fuck,” Rafe murmurs, brushing my hair off my neck and gathering it in his fist. “Just like that, little one.”

  I move my mouth over him slowly, dragging my tongue along the underside of his length as I go. I don’t take him deep just yet; I want to play in the shallow end. I want to taste him the way he tasted me. With that in mind, I grip the base of him with my hand and run a flat tongue around his head like I’m licking an ice cream cone.

  He sound of his low, gravelly tone above me brings me pleasure. “Christ, Mia.”

  Mateo shoves a second finger inside me and I moan again. I suck him hard, then soft. Mateo’s fingers stoke my pleasure while I stoke Rafe’s. Tension builds in my core as Mateo’s expert fingers hit all the right spots with ex
actly the pressure he knows I need. The closer I get to coming for him, the more enthusiastic I am in my attention to Rafe’s cock.

  Then my husband’s commanding voice rings out, obliterating even my own body’s intentions. “Come for me, Mia.”

  He pumps his fingers into me as pleasure explodes inside me and I clench around them. I have only Rafe to hold onto, so I do, holding him close and moaning in helpless rapture, still with his cock in my mouth.

  I’m too weak to continue when I come down. I pull off Rafe and sink into the mattress, needing a moment to rest and recover.

  I don’t really get one, because Mateo.

  He lies next to me and slides an arm beneath me, pulling me against his hard body. I sigh with contentment and curl up with him, absently kissing his chest to express my gratitude.

  “I love you,” I murmur against his skin.

  His voice is full of tenderness. “I know.”

  I smile and poke him, so he chuckles and kisses me on the forehead.

  Now he addresses Rafe. “We’re one and one. You want a turn, or should I take the next one?”

  Next one? I start to ask what he’s talking about, but then Rafe grabs my legs and drags me off my husband and halfway down the bed. I raise startled eyes to him and see he has shed the rest of his clothing, and now he’s bare-ass naked, his cock ready and waiting for me. My heart drops as he says, “Mine.”

  Alarm courses through me. “I am not yours.”

  His lips curve up faintly. “I was talking to your husband, little one. I was claiming your next orgasm, not you.”

  Claiming my—?

  One-and-one suddenly clicks into place. “Oh, my god, are you two seriously making orgasms competitive? Can’t we all just enjoy this? Must there be a winner?”

  “If that’s the game, sounds like you’re the clear winner,” Mateo offers, his tone dry.

  “Maybe we’ll tie,” Rafe offers, like that might make me feel better.