I’d meant it as seduction, but it came out as need.
She laughed, breathless and wanting, as we both reached for her.
Hands everywhere. Not choreographed. Not orchestrated. Just… wanting to touch her, feel her, worship her.
Keane’s fingers skimmed over her hips to cup her ass with steady reverence.
I sank to my knees before I’d consciously decided to, my mouth already trailing up her thigh.
When my tongue found her clit, she made a sound that rewrote every calculated lesson I’d ever learned about giving pleasure.
This wasn’t about technique. This was about tasting her because I couldn’t not taste her.
I love the taste of you, Mari, I said, looking up to meet her eyes with truth, raw and unscripted.
Keane murmured agreement, kissing her shoulder. We both do.
I gripped her thighs, my tongue sliding through her wetness. Slowly at first—not to tease, just to savor. Then purposeful, finding the rhythm that made her breath catch.
I knew exactly how to make her come. I’d studied her responses during our first time together—clinical, strategic, effective.
But I didn’t want that now.
I wanted to taste her without calculating the response. Wanted to hear her moan because I was lost in her, not because I’d orchestrated the perfect touch.
So I stopped thinking.
Just felt.
The salty-sweet taste of her. The way her thighs trembled against my shoulders. The sounds she made when Keane’s hands tightened on her waist.
Heat flooded through me—sharp, demanding, and completely beyond my control. My cock ached, neglected, but I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.
She came against my mouth with a cry that sounded like surrender, and I held her through it, my tongue gentle now.
When she could stand again, I looked up to find her staring down at me with an expression that made my heart stutter—want, trust, and something that looked almost like love.
I do believe I said I wanted you in my mouth, she said, breathless but certain.
I groaned, my hand sliding down to stroke my cock—hard and aching. The need in her eyes stole the air from my lungs.
And where do you want me? Keane whispered in her ear.
She turned and kissed him slowly. Inside me. Completing me.
He nodded.
She moved onto all fours on the rug. I knelt in front of her, my cock thick and flushed, bobbing with need I couldn’t hide.
Keane positioned himself behind her, his hands firm on her hips as he guided himself into her. The sound she made—that perfect note of fullness—went straight through me.
She reached for me, and I cradled her face as she took me into her mouth.
The wet heat of her—light.
Reality was her tongue tracing along my length while Keane thrust into her from behind. Reality was watching them move together while being part of it. Reality was losing any semblance of control as pleasure tore through me like truth I couldn’t script.
We moved together—slowly and then faster. Keane set the rhythm with his hips. Marigold matched it, her mouth working me in perfect sync. I threaded my fingers into her hair, not directing, just… holding on.
