Van’s fist relaxed, finger by finger, and began a slow, sensual slide along Ricky’s length.
Pain morphed into pleasure as each stroke melted through his groin and tightened his nuts.
“Oh, God.” He rocked his hips, thrusting into that strong, confident handhold.
Blissful tremors rippled through him, gathering low and deep, pulsing to erupt. The pressure, the rhythm, and the caress of masculine fingers felt as stimulating as his own hand. Better even. Fucking perfect.
Van had married a woman, but sweet lord almighty, he still knew how to master a cock.
Lowering to a crouch, Van repositioned his grip, reaching between Ricky’s legs from behind and pulling his erection backward until it angled toward the ground, parallel with his thigh. Then he stroked harder, faster, twisting his fist along the length.
“I’m not going to last.” Ricky grunted, his body shaking in his effort to hold off his release.
“Yes, you will.” Van’s gravelly voice brushed across his ass.
That dangerous mouth hovered between his legs, taunting him with heavy breaths.
He rocked his forehead on the table, his chest rising and falling in sync with Van’s strokes. The rush of orgasm threatened, throbbing toward detonation.
Right there. Oh, fuck, right there.
Van’s hand stopped moving and squeezed right below the head of Ricky’s cock. His thumb and forefinger applied firm pressure, pushing back blood and forcing the climax to retreat.
A moan hit his throat and stuck there. He struggled for air, wrestled to keep his arms locked in position, while directing his frustration into the pained expression that strained his face.
Beside him, Amber’s whimpers grew louder, faster, and he realized Van’s other hand was between her legs.
A moment later, that hand moved to Ricky’s backside, and drenched fingers sank into the crack of his ass.
There was no teasing, no warm-up, before Van forced a digit deep inside him, using only the lubrication from Amber’s arousal.
With a sharp grunt, he lifted on his toes and choked against the wicked invasion.
Another finger penetrated. Then a third. Stretching, pounding, Van impaled his rectum with one hand while the other jerked him off in twisting, merciless strokes.
The assault scorched flesh and nerve endings, shooting trails of fire through his body in every direction.
Teeth grazed his buttocks. Then firm lips and an aggressively hot tongue. Van’s mouth was the sweetest torment, tasting his skin, sucking the welts, and licking the crevice between his flexing glutes.
Feverish currents zinged beneath Van’s grip and ignited around the fingers that pushed viciously hard inside him. He unraveled, biting down on his moan with clenched teeth until the sound escaped in a guttural growl.
Goddamn, it felt too deep. Yet he wanted more. Hands and fingers weren’t enough. He needed more than a touch, more than a night, more than a borrowed lover.
But Van held him there, working his body toward that blissful edge. His legs shook against the force of pleasure, thrumming to burst.
“Now.” Van tightened his strokes and sank his teeth into the back of Ricky’s balls.
A titanic surge of ecstasy poured out of him. He groaned and lost his grip on his elbows, slamming his hands onto the table as he emptied himself onto the ground.
He collapsed against the wooden surface, twitching with residual tremors, his breaths gusting past his lips.
Behind him, Van rose and slid a hand down the length of Ricky’s spine over the t-shirt.
He arched into the caress, clinging to the unexpected tenderness, needing that simple touch more than anything Van had offered him tonight.
Too soon, Van pulled back, straightening his pants and collecting Ricky’s clothes.
Nighttime critters sang softly amid the surrounding trees as Ricky dressed and slipped on his shoes. Then he turned toward the beautiful couple.
Amber hadn’t moved from the table, her minidress gathered around her waist. Van stood sideways in the V of her legs, with his hip pressed against her pussy, concealing her nudity.
She curled around his side, her cheek on his shoulder and fingers toying with the unbuttoned fly of his jeans. He was still hard, his bulge straining the zipper beneath her roving hand.
They weren’t finished. Not with each other.
That was his cue to leave.
“Thank you.” He glanced at Amber then met Van’s steel-colored gaze. “I needed that.”
“Come back anytime you want,” Van said. “Though, I know you won’t.”
He considered arguing and decided against it. “We’ll see.”
Amber straightened against Van’s side. “I’ll walk you out.”
Van growled at the same time Ricky said, “No. It’s cool. You guys enjoy your night.”
He ambled away, across the lawn, and as he reached the side of the cabin, her scream shuddered through the darkness behind him.
He paused and peered back, leaning around the corner of the house.
Moonlight illuminated the curves of their silhouettes. Van held her so tightly, so possessively, it was impossible to determine where she ended and he began.
They moved as one, chest to chest, foreheads together, her body on his lap, and her legs hooked around him.