Stitches

“Hey,” he says, squeezing my side.

“I’m just saying, sharing is caring. A little kiss, a little caress. You love each other.”

“And we both like to fuck women,” he reminds me.

“You can totally fuck me after. I’ve had the mental image before, and it doesn’t turn me off, I’ll just say that.”

Locking his arm around my neck, he tugs my head back and gives me an upside down kiss. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Fine,” I concede, reaching behind his neck and drawing him closer. Between kisses, I murmur, “You can just kiss me instead, how about that?”

“Now that I can get behind.”

I get lost in his kisses. His hand drifts to the column of my neck and my heart kicks up, remembering keenly how hot it was when he took me without holding back. I never want him to hold back again. I want him to own me. Maybe he was cautious before because Sebastian clearly owns my ass, but hell, they’re partners in everything else, why not this?

Thinking about the way he pushed me down into the mattress gets me hot. I reach between his legs and rub him, enjoying the way he stiffens beneath my touch.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

Without hesitation, my knees fall apart. I shudder with anticipation as his hand moves between my thighs and he presses his big palm against my pussy. My head drifts back against the wall of his chest. “Griff,” I murmur, my voice already full of need.

His deep voice tinged with amusement, he kisses the shell of my ear and lightly traces my folds. “You need something, baby?”

My gaze jerks up as I see headlights through the window. Sebastian is home.

It crosses my mind that we should probably stop, but Griff’s thoughts go in exactly the opposite direction and he pushes a finger inside me.

“We don’t have time,” I tell him.

“I’m in no hurry,” he assures me.

I should be going to greet my husband, not lying here letting Griff stroke my pussy. Griff doesn’t seem to agree though; he keeps me pinned there with his skilled fingers inside me, with his kisses on my neck, his big hand groping my breast.

It’s hard to argue with that logic.

A thrill shoots through me when I hear Sebastian drop his keys onto the end table in the foyer. I’m not entirely sure how he’ll like walking into this—I don’t know what kind of day he’s had or what he needs from me right now. Assuming it isn’t me spread on the couch letting Griff’s fingers explore my body, he may be mildly annoyed.

I look up as he comes into view, wanting to see his face. As usual, he looks unaffected. Maybe a little tired. As soon as he sees us on the couch, his gaze drifts to my pussy, to Griff’s fingers playing with me.

“Date night’s going well, I see,” he remarks casually, tugging his jacket off and hanging it across the chair in the corner. Then he prowls around to the front of the couch, dropping into the empty space on the other side, closest to my legs.

“How was work?” Griff asks casually, kneading my breast.

“Uneventful,” Sebastian replies, unbuckling his belt and drawing it off.

“Get everything all caught up?” Griff asks, pushing a second finger into my body and drawing out a helpless moan.

“All taken care of,” Sebastian says, tossing his belt on the floor and unzipping his slacks. “I’m glad to see you guys haven’t sated all of your baser urges today; I am in dire need of a good fuck.”

I can’t help smiling, though my breath hitches as Griff thrusts his fingers deep and invites his thumb to the party, nudging my clit. “It’s been so many hours since you last had me, hasn’t it?”

“Two hours is too m

any,” Sebastian states, lifting his hips and kicking his pants off. “Thirteen is approaching torture.”

I feel the same way. Since I already had Griff once while he was at work, I should be less needy. Somehow I’m not. Sex with Griff is great, but he’s not Sebastian. It wouldn’t matter if Griff spent the entire day fucking me while he was gone; I always crave my husband when he comes home. “Well, I’ll be happy to work extra hard pleasing my husband,” I assure him, watching as he gets up on his knees between my legs.

Grabbing onto my jaw, uncaring of Griff’s arm reaching down my side, his fingers still inside me, my husband comes down on top of me. His blue eyes narrow and says, “Damn right you will.”