AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hard limits. Tell me.”
She swallows, and the pressure between her throat and my fingers increases, cutting off her air for a moment as I tow her forward.
“Nothing, Rafe. I trust you.”
“Should you?” She nods, but it’s not enough. I bare my teeth, aiming to scare her, show her I’m serious, but she doesn’t back down. “Do you want to rephrase that?” She shakes her head and I nod slowly. “Rules. My hard limit. You tell me if you need to stop at any time. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Rafe.” She stares up at me, no defiance, no attitude or brattiness present. Just the incredible woman I get to call my wife.
“All right then. One more. Tonight, use your manners. Ask nicely when you want something, and say thank you afterward. Clear?”
She smiles, the tip of her tongue tracing her bottom lip, leaving a glossy sheen over her red lipstick. “Thank you, Rafe.”
I growl. “Don’t you sass me already, Willow. Now go and ask Dom nicely what he needs. Wait.”
I pause until she turns her attention back to me, then catch her mouth, covering it with mine in a deep, slow kiss. I want her to feel that kiss, my love for her, to the edges of her sanity, to remember throughout this night.
Her tongue slides along mine in a delicate dance we know so well, teasing and giving, opening and taking. This kiss is a two-way door and by the time I draw back, cupping her chin to lose myself in her eyes once more, a moan lies heavy at the back of my throat.
“Thank you,” she whispers before I can say anything.
“You’re welcome.” I kiss her again, lightly, savoring her taste. “Go to Dom, Willow.” I send her to another man with her taste on my lips.
She takes the steps slowly, looking up at Dom. We’re of a height, both well over six feet, but where my muscle is lean and corded, his build is far more solid. Next to him, she looks tiny, fragile. A breath catches in my throat as she doesn’t say anything at all, walking right up to him, rising on her toes, and offering him her mouth.
Dom stares down at her for a long, frozen moment, before a groan tears from his lips and he buries his hands in her hair, bringing her mouth to his.
Where my kiss with Willow was sensuous, full of longing, theirs is a desperate clash of mouths as he devours her, fisting handfuls of raven-black locks to hold her in place. My heart thuds in my chest, a voyeur in a fantasy I created for her. The floor shifts beneath my feet and I find myself slipping my jacket from my shoulders and hanging it on a hook beside the door. Two initials are etched in the scrollwork—not scratched in, embossed: A.G. Armand Gallo. My father.
A self-depreciating snort rises from my throat as I stare at the pair of offending letters. Here I stand in a club my father built from the ground up, embedding his name into everything like a biblical heathen god. And I feel like I can compete with that? I’m kidding myself, knowing my place is back in the States, and well away from a family I barely belong to but by the auspicious accident of my birth.
Yet here I stand, about to fuck my wife with my best friend in a room where he’s had countless women himself.
A long breath leaves my chest until there’s nothing left. Hollow. That’s what I am right now. A hollow facade of a man with a heart beating in a chest that doesn’t seem to belong to me. My forehead rests on my arm where I brace it against the wall, still unbreathing.
Still.
The finest, lightest contact at my calf through my slacks brings my lungs back to life. Through the roaring in my head, the usual honorific reaches me, but not from some placating pleb, or Dom’s deeper tones. From someone much softer, all curves and heart and heat.
“Sir.”
I rap my knuckles on the wall, and pivot on my heel to find Willow kneeling at my feet. Her gaze narrows, picking out the tiniest shifts in my strained expression. Her slinky red dress pools around her thighs. Dom stands at her back, his eyes mirroring the concern in hers. But right now isn’t the time for a deep and meaningful conversation about a man who can’t haunt us any longer.
“You shouldn’t be down there.” I suck in a breath, willing my body and mind to behave for once, catching under her arms and drawing her up my body. “Not until I have the chance to see you bare.”
“Please,” she whispers, looking up at me.
“Get my cock out.”
I nod to Dom over her head, and his eyes hood as he takes a step forward, grazing his hands along her sides in an intimate gesture as she fumbles at my pants, undoing my belt and letting it hang open as her palm finds my cock, her slender fingers wrapping around my length.
“May I?” Dom rumbles, leaning close enough to speak in her ear as he finds the fragile seam of her dress with his large hands, drawing her up.
She nods, without taking her eyes from mine, running her thumb across the engorged head of my cock. “Yes please, Dom.”
He huffs softly, drawing the zip down her dress until it tumbles to the floor around her feet. I knock her hand away, running my own fist over my cock as I appreciate the view I’ll never tire of absorbing.
Willow stands naked before me, her head high, shoulders back, those perfect breasts pressed out, her dusky nipples pebbled to tight peaks.
