His eyes lock on mine, the same thoughts and feelings reflected back. Somehow him holding my naked body against him, playing with my pussy… this doesn’t feel too far, but some instinct we both possess tells us to maintain some sort of boundary.
I can’t kiss him, but that only makes me want it more. I want to know what his lips feel like pressed against mine—soft and gentle, or fierce and demanding? I need to be closer regardless, so I lean in and rest my forehead against his. His pace slows for a moment. I’m fitted against his body, my arms wrapped around him as his fingers move inside me. There’s tenderness here, in this moment, neither of us expected.
Then Adrian’s free hand slides up my body and he gently cups my face. His hand slides around to the back of my head and then, with exquisite tenderness, he pulls me in for a kiss, consequences be damned.
An explosion of affection pours through me when our lips touch and my lips part, inviting him to deepen it. He doesn’t hesitate to accept.
It’s too much. His lips brushing mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his fingers moving inside me. It’s not what I’m used to, but the sweetness consumes me and I come, hard and fast, riding his hand, crying out against his mouth. I hold him tighter, like I need him. I do, in this moment. It’s not what I’m accustomed to, but I could get addicted to this.
My orgasm subsides, but I don’t want to move. I love that he’s still touching me. I love the lazy strokes of his tongue against mine, the calm pleasure pulsing through my body. I want to know more. I want to know the feeling of Adrian hard and aroused, pushing inside my body to take his pleasure. I want the tenderness; I want to give back what he gave me.
I break from his mouth and trail kisses along his jaw, in toward his ear so I can tell him, “I want you inside me.”
Anchoring a hand at the small of my back, he pushes his hips up so I can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against me. “You want that?”
“So much,” I say, a bit breathlessly. I snake against it, longing for that hardness inside of me. “Please, Adrian.”
“This is a bad idea,” he states.
“I love bad ideas,” I tell him.
He laughs lightly, unable to argue that long-proven fact. “Yeah, you do, don’t you?”
I nod, bending to kiss my way up his neck. “They’re my favorite.”
Wherever this moment is heading, it gets abruptly cut off when my husband decides he’s been ignored long enough. He wraps my hair around his fist and hauls me off Adrian’s lap, dragging me back against the couch. My heart kicks up a few speeds, initially alarmed that he might be legitimately mad. I did just tell his best friend I wanted to fuck him, after all. I also kissed him, and I know Mateo is territorial about my kisses.
I probably shouldn’t have done that.
I don’t know the rules here.
I don’t know if there are rules here.
This is Adrian, after all. He dedicates his whole life to protecting us. Trust isn’t something Mateo hands out, but I know he trusts me and Adrian.
My gaze jumps to his for a read, to make sure I didn’t hurt his feelings or piss him off. When my gaze focuses on his, though, there’s no anger. There’s heat in his gaze, but it’s not anger—it’s sexual. It’s desire. He’s turned on.
Pleasure moves through me. I reach out to him and he leans down to kiss me. His kiss is harder than Adrian’s, more brutal. Adrian offers, Mateo takes. Exhilaration moves through me. His kiss takes me higher. Where Adrian is loving and protective, Mateo is dangerous and forceful. Adrian’s embrace offers love and comfort; Mateo’s offers boundless excitement.
When he breaks the kiss, Mateo’s gaze roves over my body while he addresses Adrian. “Do you enjoy playing with my wife, Adrian?” When he hesitates to answer, Mateo glances his way. “It’s all right. She’s fun to play with.” He looks at me now, his gaze burning with intensity. “My favorite toy.”
Even recently sated, I throb with need.
“It’s nice of you to share,” Adrian remarks, getting up on his knees and planting himself between my legs.
“I’m a nice guy,” Mateo says, dryly, as he skims my arms with the tips of his fingers, then takes hold of them and pins them above my head. My heart skips a beat as one hand closes like a shackle around my wrists, leaving the other hand free to toy with me as he sees fit.
Adrian’s fingers slip each button through the holes of his dress shirt. I try to free my hands to touch him, but Mateo doesn’t let go. Between him and Adrian, I’m pinned down, completely at their mercy.