AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What his face looked like, he didn’t know. Slightly crazed, probably.
“Are you ready for me to bring you off?” she asked.
Her voice was smoke, her body dripping heat down him. His cock gave a pulse hard enough to hurt. “I am ready like you wouldn’t believe,” he growled.
She didn’t rush. She rolled to his flare, tightened her gate around him, and then relaxed and rolled down. Maybe she did the muscle-squeezing trick for her own pleasure, but it felt great to him.
“God,” he said when she repeated it. “Please keep doing that.”
She leaned forward, bracing more of her weight on him—and more on the two palms that cupped her breasts. With his second hand, Trey started working her clit again. His fingers bumped Zane with her down strokes.
The combination was too enticing. Zane tried to breathe deeper, easier, to hold onto the edge longer.
“Slower?” Rebecca offered breathlessly, seeing him struggle.
“No,” he gasped, reluctant to give up the delectable sensations. “Keep on like that.” His grip tightened on her hip, his pelvis lifting off the mattress to press into her harder. He made a noise he would have been embarrassed by if she hadn’t made it back.
She couldn’t keep to her pace. Both of them needed her to speed up.
“Yes,” he said, giving her permission even as she took it.
She cried out and he did too, riding him as he bucked. He huffed for air and went crazy. Trey couldn’t hold onto her. Zane shoved his fingers where his friend’s had been, twisting and rubbing the slippery button as they both went over.
Heat shot from deep within his balls. His body clenched with pleasure, his cock jammed as far as it could go between her legs. His hang-ups intensified the , as if he’d indulged in something forbidden. He ejaculated until he simply couldn’t anymore. Then he collapsed with pure mellowness.
He was dazed and dozy from the hard come. At first, he didn’t understand why Rebecca lifted his hand from where it had fallen to the covers. His fingers were too limp to do her any good.
At least they were until she folded them under hers on Trey’s shuddering erection.
In spite of the massive he’d just enjoyed, Zane’s penis stirred inside her.
Trey gasped with shock and pleasure as they pulled the joined fist up him. Seeing how stiff and big watching them had made him, Zane suspected he was about to go.
“Tighter,” Zane said, voice hoarse from his final shout. Rebecca’s fingers immediately obeyed. Knowing Trey would like faster too, Zane dragged their fists to the crucial stretch of nerves on the upper part of his under side. Trey watched their hands slide up him, then gaped at them. Satisfied he and Rebecca were exactly where they were needed, Zane shimmied Trey’s skin up and down the hot spot as fast as it would go.
This flipped Trey like a giant switch.
He moaned, every muscle in his body jerking as he spewed semen over them.
Playing voyeur must have wound him up. The fountain sprayed pretty high and went on longer than usual.
Rebecca let go before Zane did. He couldn’t seem to stop stroking Trey’s penis.
“God,” Trey panted. He put his hand over Zane’s. Zane did stop then and looked into his eyes.
“Thank you,” Trey said so seriously Zane probably should have laughed. He wished he could laugh, but he felt serious too.
“Fair’s fair,” he said, wondering if fairness truly had dictated that hand job.
Before the moment could get more awkward, Rebecca lifted off him and called dibs on the shower.
~
Rebecca didn’t know which man’s bathrobe she’d borrowed on her exit from the sybaritic bathroom, only that it smelled heavenly. Unable to resist, she inhaled through the fluffy lapel as she padded back to the bedroom.
The bed, which was empty, looked like a hurricane had hit it. In spite of being excellently pleasured twice recently, her flesh tightened at the sight.
“Over here,” Zane called from the sitting area behind the arch. “We rustled up a snack.”
Rebecca’s stomach growled. She’d only tasted the food in the Lounge tonight. Turning, she saw the men sprawled in armchairs in their underwear. Their snack was spread across the round table between them. She spotted sliced smoked salmon, a big tin of caviar, and two bottles of Louis Roederer Cristal chilling in silver ice buckets. Both men were toasting bread on long forks over a small gas fire.
The fireplace turned the scene into a wet dream, its flames flickering cozily over the muscled limbs of the two big men. The air conditioning justified the warmth—sort of.
“It’s August!” her sensible side felt obliged to say as she walked over.
Trey flashed teeth in a grin. “We have to toast the bread. Caviar doesn’t taste as good on plain.”
Delicately, so as not to break the eggs, he spooned a portion onto a finished slice. He passed it to her hand like the rare treat it was.
“This is Ossetra,” she said, staring at the glossy gold rounds in awe.
“Petrossian Special Reserve,” Trey informed her.
Rebecca gulped. Comparable in quality to Beluga, this stuff ran upwards of a thousand dollars for a five-ounce tin. Chef though she was, it was so expensive she’d only tasted it once before.
Laughing, Zane pressed a cool flute of Cristal into her other hand. “Come on. Who better to appreciate this luxury than someone with your palate?”
“I need to sit down for this,” she said.
Zane helped her into the third armchair.
“Eat,” Trey coaxed, taking a bite himself.
Rebecca bit down on the loaded toast. Amazing flavors exploded in her mouth. The large-scale caviar was the perfect texture: firm, smooth, the taste a layering of butter and nuts and sea.
“Mm,” she hummed, closing her eyes to absorb it. She felt as if she’d been transported to Mother Russia, to some wintry gray seashore. When she lifted her eyelids, Zane and Trey were fighting laughs.
“You look like that when you come,” Zane explained.
“And you definitely need more,” Trey said, before she could blaze up in a blush.
They ate the decadent feast together—laughing, licking fingers, and enjoying. The salmon was nearly as good as the caviar, the chilled champagne the perfect accompaniment. The food was gone by the time Trey popped the second bottle.
“You do that as neatly as my head chef,” she praised.
“Practice.” He poured for the others and settled back in his chair. “Somewhat to my surprise, Zane is a champagne hound.”
Zane grinned unabashedly, likely a little buzzed. “I’m about more than beer and burgers.” He stretched his bare legs until his feet bumped hers. “You’re wearing my robe.”
This appeared to please him.
“It smelled good,” she said.
“It smells like bad boy,” Trey clarified and laughed.
“Is that an inside joke?”
“We’re testing a new men’s fragrance,” Zane said. “Called ‘Bad Boy,’ of course. We’ve both been wearing it. We’re hoping to launch it next Christmas.”
“It’s nice on both of you,” she observed.
Smiling, Trey slouched deeper in his chair, arms flung out in relaxation, feet nudging hers like Zane’s were. He seemed not only amused but happy, drunk perhaps but not impaired.
This is what he wants, she realized. Trey had no hesitation where he loved. His heart’s desire was to draw both of them close to him. Zane’s body still held a hint of tension, not much but it was there. Like her, he didn’t let down his guard easily. Also like her, he found a lot to admire in Trey.
“How did you two meet?” she asked, sensing the champagne would oil their answer.
Trey turned his head to Zane, silently offering him the option of answering. She realized something else then. Trey was more careful of Zane’s boundaries than Zane was of his.
Zane seemed willing to tell the story—if warily. “We were neighbors,” he said, fingers tapping his chair’s arms. “And we went to the same high school.”
“I was a nerd. He was a jock.”
“You weren’t a nerd,” she said, not believing it. Trey was quirky, but too beautiful for that.
“An outsider then. Zane took me under his wing in our senior year.”
Zane leaned forward over his knees. His sandy brows drew together, creating a furrow above his nose. Rebecca leaned forward too, not close enough to tell him with her touch that his private stories were safe with her.
“Did he know what your father did?” she asked gently.
Zane wet his lips. “Trey’s father hit him too. For different reasons, but we found out we had that in common.”
“And also liking men and women.”
“And also that,” Zane concurred. “One night, my dad and I had a last-straw blowout. I was convinced I was going to kill him and spend the rest of my life in jail. Trey watched the fight from his bedroom window. When I ran from the house, he followed me. I’m not sure what he thought I was going to do. Throw myself off a bridge maybe. We talked for the first time at the high school track. You could say he initiated the other half of what I wanted sexually. We got each other through our last year of school.”
