Stitches

I’m not enthusiastic enough so Sebastian shoves his cock to the back of my throat without warning. I start to gag, but he lets me pull back and take him slower. My heart kicks up, visualizing him holding Griff’s gaze while I suck his cock. Ordinarily, Griff would be cool with it, but he’s angry now, so I’m not sure.

I don’t know why they can’t just put their difference in kinks aside and fuck me. Then we’d all feel better about life.

My husband finally speaks as I move my mouth over him, working toward his pleasure. “You don’t get to tell me how to fuck my wife, Griff.”

“She’s mine, too,” Griff states, causing my speeding heart to sink. “You don’t get to hurt what’s mine.”

“She wasn’t hurt,” Sebastian states. “She likes what I do to her. You go too easy on her. I have to keep her balanced out. Sometimes she likes the tender stuff. Sometimes she wants to be used. I know what my wife likes. I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t enjoy.”

“Yeah?” Griff asks, not sounding the least bit threatened. “Why don’t you tell me again how I’m not enough for her when I’m buried deep inside her pussy and she’s coming all over my dick?”

I moan around Sebastian’s cock, throbbing between my legs. I know Griff’s words were aimed at Sebastian, not me, but fuck, I can still enjoy them.

Sebastian’s tone warms slightly. “See? She liked that.” He pets my back and I’m hit with relief. He’s being rational, so he’s probably not going to lock horns with Griff. I wasn’t eager to try to stop that mess. “Don’t worry so much about respecting her when you’re fucking her,” Sebastian advises. “She knows you respect her. She doesn’t need to be convinced. Sometimes she wants you to fuck her like you don’t.”

Now he pulls back on my hair, pulling me off his cock and looking down at me for a moment. “What should we do to you tonight, beautiful?”

I’m so relieved, I can’t keep it off my face. “Anything you want,” I toss back coyly, glancing from Sebastian to Griff.

Sebastian gives me a light shove back on the bed and parts my legs, looking over at Griff. “Now, would you like to measure our dicks, or would you like to put your money where your mouth is and drive yours into my wife until she comes all over it?”

Thankfully for all of us, Griff chooses the second option.

18

Griff

I’m just getting out of the shower when Moira comes into the guest bathroom, face flushed, holding out my phone.

“I didn’t mean to look,” she says, grimacing.

I haven’t even grabbed a towel yet, so I’m standing here ass naked when she runs in. Generally speaking, I like any morning I wake up and get to see Moira first thing, particularly in the bathroom during or after a shower, but right now instead of focusing on the drops of water sliding down my toned abdomen, she’s avoiding looking at me altogether. What the hell did she see on my phone? There shouldn’t be anything that would cause her to react like that.

With a faint frown, I reach out and take it from her much smaller hand. As it transfers into my grasp, the screen lights up. I tap it one more time and it opens straight to a picture of a very naked Ashley splayed across a bed.

“Aw, Christ,” I mutter, turning my own head for a second before dragging the picture away. It shrinks and I see it’s attached to a text message that reads “Thinking of you.”

Instant dread. She’s fucking haunting me. Why won’t she just leave me alone and go away?

Well, that’s a dumb question. There are a lot of reasons; all of them can be found in my bank account or the appraisal report of my fucking house.

Moira starts chattering nervously again. “I didn’t mean to look. I didn’t read your messages back and forth or anything, your phone lit up and it was right next to mine. Sebastian left early this morning so I thought it might be him, but it was obviously your phone, not mine. I wasn’t snooping,” she swears.

Smiling faintly, I put the phone down on the marble counter next to the sink. “I didn’t think you were. Wouldn’t matter if you did. I don’t have anything to hide.”

She doesn’t respond, so she must not agree.

That’s silly. I hook an arm around her waist and drag her against my body. “There’s no back and forth to read. She sends me messages, I ignore them. Normally not messages like that. She must be getting desperate.”

“She has very large breasts,” Moira states.

“Mm hmm,” I murmur, reaching with my free hand for the comb on the counter and dragging it through my hair.

“I mean, I’ve seen them in clothing before, even a bathing suit, but somehow they look bigger without anything covering them. Like, whoa.”

I smile faintly. “I told her not to get them that big. Maybe they’re ‘like, whoa’ now, but according to the studies, they’re going to be a real backache later on.”

Moira’s nose wrinkles up. “Do you like big breasts?”