Clay pinched my clit again, dragging a whimper from me, and his voice was strangled with desire. “Put your hands on his chest and lean back.”
Travis’s skin was like mine, faintly sticky with sweat, and when I reached back to plant my palms on him, he grasped my arms just above the elbows. It was an added level of support, which I needed, but also domination—which I craved.
I was leaned back but tucked my chin to my chest so I could watch Clay. He gently nudged one of Travis’s knees, urging the man to spread them and make room. Travis’s tempo slowed to a stop with him lodged inside me, and the sheets rustled as he eased his outstretched legs apart into a V.
My breath came and went in labored gulps when Clay moved, crossing over Travis’s leg so he could kneel between them. His hands played over my tits, brushing over my skin like he wanted to leave no spot untouched. I shivered with enjoyment, not just from the way his palms smoothed over me, but how Travis had resumed his slow, deep thrusts.
There was a thought running through Clay’s head. I could see it in his eyes. I might not have been able to if he were still wearing his glasses, but they sat on the dresser, out of reach. Whatever he was considering, it made his chest heave with a deep breath.
His hands washed down my body. One stopped at my hip, but the other continued on. It moved down over the top of my thigh, gliding over my knee, and then slid onto Travis’s. It didn’t rest there. His fingers splayed out so as he began the journey back up, the pad of his thumb traced a line along the inside of Travis’s thigh.
The hands gripping my arms tightened, but I got the feeling it was simply surprise and not shock. Travis . . . didn’t hate Clay’s sensual touch. In fact, he probably enjoyed it because his cock flexed inside me.
Clay’s thumb narrowly avoided touching the other man anywhere that would cross a line. It swerved at the last second as his hand moved back up onto my thigh and slid over to touch me just above where Travis and I were joined.
Had Clay been teasing us? Or was he curious and testing the waters with the other man?
He shifted on his knees, maybe to find a more comfortable position, or maybe to give himself a moment to catch his breath, since he was still struggling. Clay’s expression was a mix of uncertainty and need, and I wasn’t sure which was going to trump the other.
It was at that moment I lifted my hips just a little too much while Travis was retreating, causing his cock to fall out of me. His voice rasped with urgency, like he might die without it. “Oh, fuck, put it back in.”
I’d thought he was talking to me, but the hands on my arms didn’t let go. He didn’t release me to carry out his command.
Time suspended, and the image before me shimmered like I was gazing at it through air so hot it distorted everything.
Clay was impervious to the heat and didn’t hesitate.
He wrapped his fingers around the other man’s dick, positioning it where it needed to be, and guided Travis back inside me.
TWENTY-FOUR
Since we’d entered the bedroom, there’d been an undercurrent we all sensed lurking beneath the surface. It was dangerously powerful, and maybe the men had tried to avoid it. But now it had us, sweeping us away and pulling us down into a place where everything was blurry.
It hazed the sharp edges of fear, and shame, and inhibitions.
My moan mingled with Travis’s as he pushed back inside me, sliding deep and hitting the spot that felt so good, it should have been illegal. Clay’s hand returned to where it’d been before, rubbing furiously, because he didn’t want Travis to be the only one giving me pleasure.
They were supposed to share me, after all.
Sweat beaded on my forehead and tension coiled in my center. Travis picked up the pace, and my heart chugged along so fast, I became dizzy. I was getting close to my orgasm, and my greedy body took over, trying to go faster and find release.
So it wasn’t surprising when my attempt to change the tempo backfired, throwing off his rhythm and he came out of me again. He groaned as if in agony, but it wasn’t frustration—it was deep satisfaction.
Travis’s cock was wet from being inside me, and Clay’s fist tightened around it, pumping up and down in a slick stroke. Jesus. It was easily the hottest thing I’d ever seen. It’d be scorched into my memory for the rest of my life, I was sure.
A sound welled up from behind me. It was too strong to call a whimper, but it was heavy with desperation. A victorious smile broke on Clay’s face and power flashed in his eyes. He enjoyed having control over the other man. Doing it through pleasure might not have been his preferred medium, but he was still pleased.