“You’ve done so fucking good,” the bassist purred in his ear, causing a wave of satisfaction to bash his entire body when he got rid of Chris’s condom and licked him clean. “Take your time, I’ll warm him up for you.” He pecked his lips, leaving a trace of cum on them.
As he moved away, with the ruffle of sheets and another foil being ripped open in the background, Chris drowned deeper in his bubble of ecstasy. Dying and coming back to life had to be something like this limbo where nothing hurt and everything pulsed in and out of him. Oversensitive, with all his senses heightened yet numb. In this place, he didn’t have to fear change, but neither did he need to fight to keep the status quo. Balance simply existed.
Lazily rolling on his side, Chris peeled his eyes open, only to see James on all fours and Marc ramming into him from behind, both of them panting like dogs. How long had he been out?
As he watched them getting more worked up, fucking harder and faster, something inside the guitarist contorted. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, but it certainly wasn’t jealousy because he was enjoying the sight. These two were such an obscene masterpiece, moving in sync, moaning, and sweating. Yet the need to possess Marc grew, breeding in him like poison ivy, climbing and tangling itself around each one of his organs, making them bleed.
When they had done threesomes with women, Chris hadn’t cared about any of this, but it was different with James. Somewhere rooted in his DNA, his brain recognized this man as competition. Just like fucking Viktor. He’d always liked that dude, but right now, knowing he and Marc were going to meet soon, had the guitarist feeling sick inside.
While he wanted his friend to be happy and experience joy in every way and with whomever he fancied, he couldn’t tamp the urge to claim him. To show the world who he truly belonged to. Because although they physically were free, he craved to be the only owner of his soul.
Inhaling deeply, with his entire body still weakened and his mind shattered, the guitarist crawled closer to them.
“You know I also want you to fuck me, right?” He kissed Marc’s shoulder, blowing on his wet nape as he raised his ponytail. Even if he was railing someone else, Chris wanted him to know he was there, too.
“Shit… That feels good.”
“I know.” He kissed his neck, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin as he continued driving into James, clawing at the man’s waist with both hands.
“And yes,” Marc panted, turning his face to him and sucking on his bottom lip. “Don’t worry. I’m saving my cum for you, baby.”
A sudden rush of power inundated Chris’s veins.
Moving closer to James’s face, he lay on his side, propping on an elbow as he stared at the roadie enjoying every thrust. His gorgeous face was twisted and he couldn’t hold back one single moan.
“Enjoying yourself?” Chris asked.
“Mm-hmm…” James bit his bottom lip.
“And now?”
“Fuck!” His blond brows pinched together, and he dropped his head down, shuddering when the guitarist gripped his cock and began jerking him off.
As much as he desired this, Chris had been hesitant in the beginning. Marc and he had shared a bed with a chick only once during the couple of months they had been fooling around. So, as if the mechanics of having two dicks instead of a dick and a pussy were that different, he’d acted awkwardly; afraid of reality not living up to his fantasies or his friend losing his interest in him. But the way the bassist was looking at him now, blocking James out of his vision, reassured him. About himself and what he was capable of. About the inexplicable yet demolishing chemistry between them.
It was time for him to play.
“You know,” Chris started, pumping the tech without mercy, “I want you to come when I’m the one fucking that tight hole, so you better have enough for me, too.”
Panic crossed his expression for a second. Though it soon transformed into a scowl as he let out a loud groan, falling onto his elbows as Marc rammed inside of him.
Chris glanced up at his friend again. He was slamming and grinding into his ass, but what the guitarist liked most was the way his mouth was tugged up at the side in one of the sexiest smirks he had. Marc loved to be in control, but he definitely feasted on the moments the guitarist let this insatiable version of himself out to toy around with others, too. Made him horny as fuck.
“I’m not even sure I can come again,” James said under a ragged breath.
Chris squeezed the head of his cock. “Is that a challenge?”
“No… It’s just—Fuck!” he cried when Marc pulled out of him in a swift movement and smacked his ass.
“Lie on your back,” he barked, not giving him a chance to move when he forcefully gripped his hips and tumbled him over. “If he wants you to come again, you’re gonna fucking come.”
Did Chris just grin with malice? Absolutely. Arrogance and his ego didn’t fit inside him at the moment. He could get what he wanted when he wanted it if he was keen, didn’t need the bassist to save him. Especially not with this. But, oh boy, he loved it when this man went all bulldozer to serve it on a platter for him.
Standing up, Marc walked over to the bedside table and threw two condoms at Chris, one normal and one flavored, as he got rid of his. Then, pressing a knee on the mattress, he bit James’s mouth and slapped his dick with the back of his hand.
“Shit!” the tech groaned, reaching for his cock.
Marc knew how to hurt without really hurting, but the surprise was always brutal. If he was feeling anything similar to the first time he did it to Chris, James was probably itching and pulsing all over from the contradiction of pain and pleasure.
