Sharing Adam

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Sharing Adam Page 4

by Madelynne Ellis


  Adam rolled himself up off his knees to stand before Elliot with a swagger. He didn’t say a word, just turned and looked straight at the bed.

  “Still doesn’t seem right, man.”

  Adam sliced his head over to the right.

  God damn it! Elliot was still protesting. She wished he’d shut up with the whine and enjoy the present being offered to him. She would, if Adam were standing before her hinting they should get up on the bed. He was, after all, one prime package of raw manliness. Not that Elliot was any sort of wuss, but hell. “Just do it, will you,” she whispered.

  Maybe she’d spoken a little loudly, for Adam twisted his head to glance at the wardrobe again. He winked.

  Good God! Had he just winked conspiratorially at her?

  He knew she was there.

  Knew it and was going to get rampant with Elliot regardless—or maybe because he intended for her to see the performance? What sort of conversation had the men had downstairs? Had it really been as simplistic as the one that had run through her head? That began with Elliot saying, ‘She saw us’?

  ‘Yeah’.

  ‘She wants to watch’.

  ‘Does she?’

  ‘Yeah’.

  ‘So, let’s fuck’.

  Adam led Elliot by the hand. She’d never seen men hold hands in that way, fingers curled around each other’s palms, betraying the affection and regard they held for one another right alongside their mounting lust. It wasn’t about comfort. That grip was about power. In this case, Adam’s power over her lover. He damn near threw Elliot down upon the bed and spread his legs.

  They were going to do it face to face.

  That seemed more romantic, somehow. It was certainly more personal. There was no opportunity to pretend something else was happening. No way to hide by pressing your face into the pillow or burrowing into the eiderdown. It was straightforward, raw reality. Off came the rest of Elliot’s clothes. Adam shrugged off his jacket, but nothing else. He made short work of his fly. Becca held her breath, waiting for the first glimpse of his cock. It rose from between the metal teeth of his parted zip like a white sabre, steely and slightly curved back upon itself, and long like its owner. He paused long enough to roll a condom down the shaft. Bastard had even come prepared with a bottle of lube. She watched him squirt and slick up, while her fingers slipped inside her own sopping sheath.

  Fuck! They were really going to do it. She’d wanted it, but in a moment it would be real. And she was spying, the thing her mum had always told her was so terribly wrong.

  She was spying on her husband who was about to be fucked by a man.

  Hell, if even the notion running through her head didn’t turn her on.

  Adam lined up and pressed. There wasn’t much of a preamble. She supposed there wasn’t a need. They were both desperate in their lust. Elliot was just as eager as the man he was allowing to prick him, despite all his earlier protests. She knew him, recognised all the telling signs of his arousal. He opened his mouth on a silent cry and arched his back as Adam pulled him on to his dick.

  Joined, they were so much more than two men locked together. Sinews and muscles pulled and danced. Breaths became gasps, then cries of fury. They didn’t scratch at one another. They tore like demons. Bucked and cleaved. Strained and claimed.

  And Becca… Becca held on to her sanity by a thread. Her fingers furiously mashed her clit until she was seeing angels. Coming wasn’t quiet. She let out one strangled gasp after another. They’d heard her, both of them. Two heads turned towards the wardrobe, waiting for her to appear while they kept on fucking. She guessed the fact that they didn’t immediately leap apart told her what she’d suspected from the start—that they’d known that she was there. This had been a performance.

  Performance or otherwise, they rode it right to the end, until they were wrung out and damp with sweat and semen. Elliot lay with his seed in a puddle upon his stomach, having come with Adam’s fist wrapped around his cock.

  Chapter Four

  Becca sagged into the corner of the wardrobe, limbs no longer strong enough to hold her. She didn’t see them disentangle, only heard their groans. It was Adam who opened the door. He hunched down right in front of her. “Becca,” he held out a hand.

  She offered hers on instinct, only to try to jerk it back before he took it. Her fingers were still shiny with her dew and tainted with the pungent smell of her arousal. His had been all over her lover’s arse.

  Adam caught her by the wrist and sucked those two fingers deep into his mouth. “Was it everything you wanted?” He asked when he released her.

  Becca shot a wary glance over to Elliot on the bed. He was sprawled widthways across it, his chin resting on his palms, his elbows propped against the very edge. “Don’t bait her, Adam. She’s never asked me for anything like this before. Give her some time to adjust.”

  “I’m not baiting anyone, just enquiring if it was enough.” He looked down at her. His lips were plump from kissing and he smiled with a warmth that came from his eyes. “Did I do myself proud? I’d hate to think I disappointed you when you were so kind as to loan me my old playmate.”

  “Were you lovers?” she asked. She suspected Adam’s response would be a lot more straightforward than Elliot’s.

  He shrugged. “What does that mean?”

  “In a relationship?”

  He shrugged again, which drew attention to how broad and solid his shoulders were and how wrong she’d been about straightforward answers. “We fucked. It passed time. It made us happy. We didn’t date. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  Becca gave him an abrupt nod.

  He offered her a hand to help her up out of the wardrobe. This time she accepted more graciously.

  The ironing board wedged in beside the mini safe rattled as she stood. Only once she was standing, and he had her hand pressed to his lips as though giving her some sort of salute, did she realise he’d not finished playing with her yet. “Do you want to fuck, Mrs Caine?” Just like that, as if he could smell her continued arousal and that she wasn’t satisfied yet.

  Becca’s free hand immediately came to her waist, where the buttons of her fly were still undone. “Who? You?” she blurted.

  Adam laughed in a way that made a purr of his mirth. “If you like.” His brows twitched upwards into a suggestive arch. “Though I was actually thinking you might want some time with your husband.” He grinned. “I’m not knocking it if you don’t want me to slope off. I don’t mind watching or climbing up there so you can have us both.”

  “Bec, he’s being mean. Don’t toy with her, Adam.”

  “Who’s toying?”

  She could barely make sense of their words. This was meant to be about her watching them. It wasn’t supposed to become anything more involving. Leastways, it wasn’t supposed to involve her, but, with six foot of raw sex appeal stood before her, temptation was rife.

  Lie between them and make love! Not just watch, but be part of whatever relationship it was that they had. She still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of relationship that was. They seemed incredibly comfortable with one another, considering they’d supposedly been apart for so long. And yes, they’d just fucked, but clearly neither of them was exclusive in their preference for their own sex.

  Elliot beckoned her over to him. He grasped her hand and tugged her down onto the bed beside him. “Are you all right? You look a little fazed. Was it what you wanted? I wouldn’t have done it, but you seemed so sure, so insistent. You’re not regretting it, are you?”

  “Does he mean it?” she asked, cutting off Elliot’s worry before it reached hyperbole. He sat up at once and pulled her tight against his body. His skin was damp and warm. He held her close, with her back pressed to his chest, so that she was looking across the room at Adam’s naked back. Despite an obvious attempt at giving them some private time, Adam was very much present. His arse, displayed to ridiculous perfection in his black leathers, was firm but not too iron-like and with just enou
gh curve to really dig your nails into. Was there even a question over whether she longed to? No, the bigger question was whether it was right.

  Married people didn’t swing like this. At least, none of the ones she knew, or maybe they did but kept it to themselves.

  “Did he mean it?” she repeated.

  Elliot turned her head so that they were looking at one another. His expression was sober, but not overly concerned. “What would you say if he did?”

  Becca bit her lower lip. “I don’t know. What would you say?”

  Adam shot a glance at them from over his shoulder, making it obvious that he was following every word. Lord, what sort of discussion had the two men had before they’d come up here? The prospect of her joining in had never been part of the original plan. Then again, how much had actually been discussed? And why shouldn’t things progress in that direction? She’d watched them together; joining in was the logical next step.

  Well, assuming Adam wasn’t gay.

  She didn’t think Adam was gay, though, because, if he was, he wouldn’t have propositioned her, right?

  “If I said yes, would that be a problem?”

  Elliot nuzzled up against her head. “Depends what you want to do with him. I think I might have a hard time sitting back and watching you with him like you’ve just done, but sharing could be fun.”

  Yes, she’d like that. It was something new, and yet it’d be safe because Elliot was right there with her. They’d redefine their relationship; pour some of the spark from the early days back into it.

  “You’re not saying much,” Adam intruded on her thoughts.

  “Do you want this, Becca? Shall we let this rogue into our bed?”

  She did. She wanted this. What hot-blooded woman wouldn’t? Even though she knew it would change things. Their marriage wouldn’t be the same again, but it couldn’t have stayed the same anyway. She’d watched him being fucked by a man, and seeing that once had told her it was something she wanted to see again.

  If they were sharing Adam, that wouldn’t be a problem, right?

  Besides, this man formed part of Elliot’s past. It seemed she could learn a lot from him about who Elliot was and who he had been, though her fascination certainly extended beyond that, too. Her attraction to him was more than interest in her husband’s past, it was physical; a gut-level sexual response to what she’d seen the men do. She wanted more. She wanted to be involved with that in more than a passive way. Her self-induced orgasm might have wrung her out, but it hadn’t satisfied her in the way a good fucking would.

  “I want it,” she said. “I want to share him with you.”

  “Yeah?” Elliot skimmed his palms over the top of her shoulders, and then scooped downwards towards her breasts. “How do you want to share him? Do you want him to touch you, or for us just to give pleasure to him?”

  She wanted all of it, every bit, and relished the thought of smoothing her hands over his skin and discovering every sensitive part of him. She’d trace his pulse points with her tongue, feather-dancing caresses over his leather-covered rear, push her hands inside his pants and explore the rock-solid length of his shaft. Maybe she’d welcome him inside her. Becca didn’t think too hard about that. Elliot had been the only man in her life for six years. The notion of opening herself up to another was both a delight and a terror.

  “How does it feel when his cock is inside you?” she asked Elliot. She’d seen his response, but wanted more detailed input than what she’d gathered and filtered through her senses.

  “How does it feel when I’m inside you?” He threw the question back at her.

  She felt many, many things. “Hot. Hard. Like I’m on fire and I’m filled with an ache that only you can satisfy. And like my nerves are singed and I can’t bear to move, but I can’t stop myself.”

  “Then imagine how it will feel with two of us loving you. Still ready to give it a try?” He cupped the swell of her breasts through her top and found her nipples already puckered up, eager for his touch. His pinches made her gasp. “Does that feel good?” He pulled her top off over her head, leaving her sitting in her bra and loosened pants. “Show her, Adam. Give her a taste of what she’s getting.”

  She’d not yet seen Adam fully undressed. He’d kept his trousers on the whole time he’d been shagging Elliot’s arse. Now he loosened them off properly and shuffled the leather down to his hips, where it clung tantalisingly to the muscle for a moment, while he removed his boots and socks.

  Adam was long and firm and lovely. He wrapped a hand around his cock as soon as his trousers were off and began to stroke.

  Becca watched, fascinated by the motion. He was far surer in his strokes than Elliot was when he knew that she was watching, though his current lashes over and over upon her clit didn’t lack in any way. He pulled her backwards onto the bed so that she lay flat and pulled off her trousers and panties, exposing the slick, plump flesh of her slit to Adam’s view, but only for a moment, for then Elliot dipped his head and began to use his tongue.

  Her first instinct when he did this was to close her eyes and sink into the hot shivers it raised. This time, she kept her eyes open. Elliot’s head bobbed and she laced her fingers in his short hair as Adam strode over to the bed. His gaze remained fastened upon her face and not on what Elliot was doing to her pussy. He knelt, causing the mattress to dip so that she rolled towards him a little, then he leaned right over her and clasped the headboard with one hand.

  They’d barely touched before, but it took no genius to work out what he expected her to do. He guided his erection straight to her lips.

  It was certainly a novel way to get to know a man.

  Becca enjoyed sucking cock, but she’d known no man’s but her husband’s for a long, long time. Adam smelt musky and tasted of salt and lube. He held still while she accustomed herself to his length and girth. He was longer than Elliot, but not so thick. She felt him make the first roll of his hips, then tense at the end, making sure not to push too far. She used her hands on him to make it easier, and to cop a feel of his truly delectable arse. Adam didn’t object.

  God, it felt perfect, sucking him and having Elliot’s tongue on her clit both at the same time. She strained towards them, lapping up all the pleasure they offered until everything ached and just the flick of Elliot’s tongue wasn’t quite enough. Her cunt felt empty. She wanted the cock now filling up her mouth down there, conquering that need.

  She pulled away from Adam. He seemed to understand. He skimmed his hands lightly over her body, followed by the kiss of his prick. He and Elliot lay either side of her, one sucking each breast, their hands clasped one above the other, stroking her pussy lips.

  “I think she’s wet enough to fuck,” Adam said. “The only question is over who does the honours.”

  Was the giveaway the desperate roll of her hips or the fevered groans she was making? “Yes,” she gasped, reaching for their cocks. It didn’t matter whose, not really. She just needed that ache filling. She’d take them one after the other if her stamina would hold.

  “She’s all yours,” Elliot insisted. His words tickled as they traversed her stomach. He was looking Adam right in the eyes. “Think you can satisfy my wife?”

  “I’ll give it my best try.”

  As if by unanimous agreement, they knelt up on either side of her hips. Hands clasped around one another’s cocks, they kissed deep and long before Elliot rolled away and fished about in pockets. He came back and rolled a sheath over his lover’s cock, taking care to pinch the air out of the tip.

  It seemed almost surreal as Adam stretched out his body and covered her. His hips stacked neatly over hers. She didn’t feel the press of his cock at first, only the gentle caress of his lips finding hers. Adam wasn’t aggressive with her like he’d been with Elliot. His lips brushed hers gently until she relaxed into the mattress and sobbed for more. Then his tongue explored the seam of her mouth, so that finally when their tongues danced she was breathless and desperate. Only then d
id she feel his cock nuzzling her thigh. He seemed in no hurry, content to ratchet up the tension while he got to know her a little first. His hands swept her form, taking in her nipples and the underside of her breasts, followed by the plane of her stomach and the flare of her hips.

  He didn’t guide himself into place. He folded her hand around his shaft and had her lead him there. “Sure about this?” Adam looked down into her eyes as he spoke. He had such beautiful eyes, crystal blue and full of promise and warmth. His lips curved up at the corners into a smile as the tip of his cock nudged her entrance. “You could change your mind. I’m sure Elliot’s ready to oblige just as much as I am.”

  Her husband lay beside them on the bed, completely naked and at ease, stroking his own cock. If she’d been in any doubt over how comfortable he was with this, then seeing him like that would have dispelled it.

  Adam’s husky voice rumbled in his chest before bringing delight to her ears. “What do you think, Becca? Shall I slide inside and fill you up? Do you want my cock in you? Shall we fuck until we make each other scream?”

  “Yes,” she hissed into his mouth. “Yes, let’s do it.”

  He slid up, immediately, so that the tip of his cock nudged up against her clit, prompting sparklers to light. He kept on pressing there a moment, and then he pulled back and angled himself. Then pushed right in. “There now.” He held still just for a second while her muscles rippled around him. He went deep. He felt good and hard inside her. Perfect. And, yes, with a little motion and the rise and angling of her hips, doubly perfect. “Harder?” he asked, puffing a breath of air across her heated face.

  “Yeah.”

  “Like this?” He folded her legs up around his hips and lifted her into his lap. She was astride him then, riding him like she’d ridden Elliot the night before, and kissing him like he might vanish at any moment. She realised as Adam filled her up just how comfortable and predictable sex with Elliot had become. They’d fallen into routines, they knew what worked, had sunk into patterns so that she knew the roll of his hips a certain way was a definite prelude to something else. None of that existed with Adam. It was all new. All magic.

 

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