Tryst

Without hesitation, Ransom makes quick work of his fly and zipper, but hesitates just before letting his jeans slide off his hips. I’ve been so captivated by the sight of his chiseled body, that I didn’t realize that our threesome had become a foursome.

“Whatever you want to do tonight, Heidi, it’s your choice” Justice says from the other side of me, his smooth, deep voice adding a new dimension of excitement. “If you want both Tucker and Ransom, you can have them. They are here for your pleasure. But if you choose to do this—if you push the dynamics of your relationships—be absolutely sure you’re prepared to handle all that comes with it.”

Through the haze of hedonism, a contradicting mix of insecurity and arousal clouding my judgment, I take a beat to consider his words. I’ve had sex with Ransom, and I’ve obviously had sex with Tucker. But both of them? Together? Could my marriage survive it? Shit, could I? And do I even want to?

“I’m sure,” I hear myself reply, the certainty behind the words as shaky as my current moral ground.

Everything seems to move all at once. Justice steps away yet stays nearby. Ransom lets his jeans hit the floor, unsheathing a hard, proud cock. And Tucker . . . Tucker moves inside me with deep, languid strokes. The kind of strokes that remind me of forgotten lazy Sundays spent in bed making love. I relish the feel of him and the sight of Ransom as he moves closer to me on the bed. He’s nearly hovering over me, the tip of his erection so close to my lips I can taste him. He reaches over to graze my nipples with the pads of his callused fingers while Tucker continues his unhurried thrusts.

I want more. I want so much more of him . . . of this. So I do what any sane, hot-blooded woman would do with nine inches of hard-as-steel male in front of her.

I take it.

I’d wanted to taste Ransom since that very first night in his suite, but it was Tucker calling the shots. So since it’s my turn to take control—to demand my own pleasure—I’m going to have these two beautiful men every way I can get them.

He’s pulsing in my palm, little ripples of vein and flesh quivering as I caress it gently. A low growl rumbles in his throat and I look up to see that Ransom’s eyes are closed and his head is tipped back. I turn my gaze to Tucker, who is watching me—watching us—intently. How would he react to the sight of another man’s cock in my mouth? Only one way to find out.

Ransom trembles on my tongue as I take as much of him as I can. My eyes still trained on my husband, I start with gentle licks up and down his shaft before falling into a rhythm that matches Tuck’s strokes. He thrusts, I suck. It’s fiercely erotic and soon I feel myself tightening below, overwhelmed by this new level of pleasure. Ransom takes it even further by pinching and twisting my nipples with one hand and reaching down between my legs, down to where me and Tuck are co

Tuck’s never been able to hold on for long after I’ve orgasmed. The feel of my body greedily sucking him deeper always sends him over the edge, so he quickly pulls out. We’re in motion again, and while I’m still trembling with aftershocks, I still want more.

“Lie down,” I instruct Ransom after I release him from my mouth. He does as directed, stretching his long frame beside mine.

I look to Tucker, who is still between my legs, his sex still wet with my release. “You too.”

I’m sandwiched between two of the sexiest men alive, wondering what the hell I plan to do with them. I turn to Tucker first, who is at my right and kiss his lips. Still ravenous and on the edge of orgasm, he eagerly snakes his tongue in my mouth, devouring every one of my soft whimpers. His hand trails up to knead my breasts, just the way he knows I like it. Breathless, I pull away and turn to Ransom. He gazes back with dark, hooded eyes, his sensual lips parted in expectation. I give him my mouth, my tongue. I give him my heart in that kiss, and let him taste my soul. I drink his anguish and lick love letters on his lips.

I kiss Ransom like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do, hoping that somewhere in the midst of our lust he can taste the goodbye that I can’t bring myself to say. Because that’s what tonight will have to be: goodbye. When I pull away, the desolation in his stare tells me that he knows it too.

Tucker is still hard and ready behind me, his hands roaming my body in search of release. If we’re here to push the limits of our marriage, I’m going to take this opportunity to put it all on the table. I may not ever get another chance.

“I want to feel you,” I whisper to him, turning my head to look at him from over my shoulder. I reach behind me to stroke the hardened flesh that’s sliding between my cheeks and take it one step further, placing the tip of him at my puckered entrance to show him exactly where I want to feel him. Tucker has never been willing to try it. He’d always been too afraid of hurting me. But now that we’re here, throwing every speck of inhibition to the wind, there’s no better time like the present.

As I expect, shock and alarm flash across his features, but he quickly tamps it down. “Is that what you really want?”

I stare back with unshakeable certainty, despite the coiled doubt in my belly. “I do.”

I lift my gaze to find Justice staring back at me. Without a word, he strides over to us and extends his palm to Tucker, revealing a small tube of lube. With the tentative tips of his fingers, my husband receives it then looks over my shoulder to Ransom. Something passes between the men, something that encourages Ransom to grasp my thigh and drape my leg over his hip.

This is happening. Against all my better judgment, against the niggling voice in my head that tells me to shut this shit down right now and escape with my marred dignity and what’s left of my marriage, I’m seriously going to do this.

I look up to find that Justice is still looming over us, his expression terse. When our eyes meet, the line of his bowed lips tightens until they’re completely white. I know how he feels about me and what I’m destroying in this moment. But he’s made his living off building fantasies, even for those who don’t deserve them, like the sexist, spineless husbands who would send their wives to him for instruction. Even for people like me, the twisted, the weak, the unfulfilled. His nostrils flare just subtly before he takes a step back. However, that’s all the distance he puts between us. He wants to see. He may deal with every sordid type of sex there is, but he is still a man.

With my leg angled like this, my sex open and so close to his, I hold my breath, awaiting contact. I turn back to Ransom and gaze up into those dark, sultry eyes, seeking comfort and solitude. I can hear the shuffling of Tucker fiddling with the lube. When the cold gel touches my inflamed skin, I nearly yelp in surprise. It’s only Ransom’s face and his tight hold on my thigh that stills me.

Without warning, he crushes his lips to mine, wrapping me up in an intense kiss that steals the oxygen from my lungs. He tastes like the sweetest sin, his mouth as captivating as the lyrics that fall from his tongue. I’m losing myself in him when I feel a prick of pressure behind me. Instinctively, I try to fight against it, but Ransom just holds me tighter and pulls my leg wider, giving Tucker more room to push inside me. I squirm and groan, but Ransom just absorbs it all, continuing to kiss me deeper and hold me tighter.

When Tucker pushes in to the hilt, we all sigh audibly. He kisses my hair and shoulders, kneading my ass as he allows me to adjust to his size. I know he’s still afraid to hurt me, but the way that he’s pulsing deep inside me and groaning with the need to move, tells me that he likes it too. He feels so good here that I want to cry. Not only from the physical sensation, but from the fact that he’s overcome so many of his hang-ups, all out of love for me. I turn to him and smile lazily, basking in his body co