“No.” I’m a liar, but it’s the least of my sins right now.
Just like that, Derek stops the tentative teasing. He grabs my hips and pulls me back against his body, pressing himself to me tightly. I gasp at the feeling of his cock against my lower back, but I don’t have a chance to figure out what he’s doing before he bands one arm around my waist and turns us.
To face Grayson.
Oh god.
Derek backs up, taking me with him, to sit on the couch across from Grayson’s chair. He arranges me in his lap, guiding my legs to the outside of his and spreading us both. Putting me on display.
He slides his hands up my sides and then takes my wrists and moves my hands to either side of his hips. Baring me further. I’m not exactly helpless, not being held down, but the feeling is there all the same. Like I’m a toy for him to play with, a doll here only for his amusement and pleasure.
At the thought, desire lights me up like the lights on the Christmas tree.
“Do you know how jealous I was at your wedding?” Derek’s voice sounds perfectly normal despite the massive dick pressing against my ass, proving that he’s just as affected as I am. He brackets my hips with his big hands and coasts them up to brush his thumbs along the underside of my breasts. “Not the ceremony. Not even all the random shit at the reception.” He keeps up that steady motion, idly touching me in a way that was forbidden just a single day ago. “It was when I saw you fucking in the bridal suite.”
Grayson snorts. “Peeping in windows, were you?”
“I went for a cigarette. Not my fault you left the windows open and decided to fuck your bride right there where anyone could see you.” He moves his hands up slightly, stroking along the scalloped top of the lace bra cups, finally dipping in to drag the fragile fabric down and bare my nipples. “I stood there and watched and knew I’d never be allowed to touch.”
I know his words aren’t for me. Not really. They’re for Grayson. I’m just the method of communication.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m nearly panting with desire as he circles my nipples until they pebble to hard points. It doesn’t change the fact that my husband watching this only makes it a thousand times hotter.
Derek pinches my nipples and I jerk back against him, fighting down a moan. “Now it’s your turn to watch.”
Grayson raises his brows. His cock is creating a tent in the front of his lounge pants, but my husband manages to lock down the lust on his face, if only barely. “Tit for tat, is it?”
“Think she’ll scream my name when she comes or yours?” He cups my breasts fully now, his palms rasping against my increasingly sensitive nipples.
I bite my lip to keep from begging for more, but I can’t stop myself from rolling my hips a little, grinding against his erection. Derek releases one breast and lets his hand drop to cup my pussy. He hisses out a breath against my neck. “She’s so wet I can feel her through the lace.”
I draw in a shaking breath. “If you don’t start unwrapping this present, she’s going to unwrap herself.”
Derek laughs against my neck. “Impatient.”
“Only a little.” No point in denying it. Not when we’re poised on the brink of something. We’ve had seven years of teasing. Seven years of denial. Up until this point, I didn’t consider it a great trial to ignore my attraction to Derek. I didn’t magically become immune to desire just because I’m married, but that doesn’t mean I ever would have acted on it. Not with him. Not with anyone.
“All good things are worth the wait, isn’t that right, Grayson?”
I love that he keeps bringing my husband into this. I hate it, too. Tonight really isn’t about me. Oh, Derek wants me, but that’s not enough for him to be going through this slow tease.
That’s all about Grayson.
My husband shifts on his chair. “Yes.”
Right then and there, I make the decision to drag Grayson into this with us. Not yet. We have to work him into a frenzy before he’ll forget himself, forget the rules he’s built up in his head to make this work. No one has self-control better than my husband.
No one knows how to break it better than me.
Except maybe Derek.
I settle back against him, still rolling my hips a little. “Just a little touch, Derek.”
He ghosts the tips of his fingers up the center of my pussy. I’ve long since soaked the lace, and it feels good but I’m desperate for actual contact. So desperate, I toss out words designed to prod him into action. “Do you think it only works when we’re not supposed to?”