Page 69 of Unstitch

So well is an understatement. Her magical mouth is swirling and whirling my cock into hyper-arousal so tormented my soul is on the verge of leaving my body. My hips are rutting against her of their own accord. And it’s in this precarious state that I stare into Max’s hypnotic eyes as he puts his thumb to my bottom lip and presses down on its very centre.

‘Just as I thought,’ he murmurs, his hand in my peripheral vision still moving over his length. ‘Just as perfect as I thought.’

I don’t know how or why it happens, but his thumb is sliding into my mouth then, tasting cleanly and tartly of soap, dragging against my teeth, and it seems the only rational course of action available to me is to close my lips around it and suck, my tongue swirling around its tip, mimicking Darcy’s wonderful, extraordinary ministrations on my dick.

And I swear, my senses are so heightened that I can read the whorls of his thumbprint with my tongue. I can hear the violence of the desires reflected in his pupils as clearly as if he was screaming their savagery into my ear.

We’re frozen in place, it seems, only Darcy’s mouth and his hand and my tongue still in motion. Every other part of me is outwardly stiff and inwardly reeling. Without Max’s strict guidance to steady her, Darcy pops off my cock, and she must look up at us, for she chuckles quietly.

‘Oh, boy,’ is all she says before she wraps her hand around my root and licks at my frenulum with the skill of an angel before taking me deep in her mouth again.

My only outlet?

To suck harder on Max’s thumb with deep, hungry pulls that hollow out my cheeks.

And then he’s yanking his thumb out, and gripping the back of my neck in a chokehold, and smashing our faces together with the sole purpose of biting down hard on my lower lip.

His teeth on my skin have the exact same effect that they had next door. The pain is a sharp, bright halo around my pleasure, sending me hurtling through worlds I’ve never seen. It’s too much, this double-ended intoxication of Darcy’s mouth and Max’s teeth.

I sink one hand tightly into Darcy’s shoulder and raise the other in what’s intended as self-defence but becomes a pathetic fucking attempt to claw at his hair. To get him closer.

He releases my lip but keeps hold of my jaw, fucking my mouth with his tongue in a way that’s angry and selfish and unleashed and vocal, because we’re both moaning into the kiss as I tug his hair and he grips my neck.

He’s relentless. She’s relentless. And I’m gone, I’m useless, I’m practically weeping with the unutterable pleasure of the filthy, filthy pulses of his tongue, so when Darcy deep-throats me and holds me there, I spill and I spill as white-hot sensation wracks my body in a violent crescendo.

She pulls off me gently, sweetly, and I’m vaguely aware of her slipping out from between us, but Max has my neck in a don’t you fucking dare go anywhere death grip as he plunders my mouth and brings himself savagely to a climax whose projectile proof the skin of my thigh feels even through the torrent of water.

48

DARCY

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ I ask Max. I can just about form words—my body and soul are wrung-out, bled dry by orgasm—but this is important.

He tightens his arm around me, and I snuggle a little closer to his chest. He was extremely clear that he expected me to spend the night at his after what went down, but it’s not me I’m worried about.

It’s him.

And Dex.

‘I’m good, sweetheart,’ he tells me for the millionth time. ‘It was all just fun and games.’

Beneath the know-it-all drawl there’s a forced bravado that tugs at my heart. While I’m confident Max couldn’t list all the people he’s slept with if you tied him to his desk for a year, I know he was invested in this evening on a level way beyond simply overseeing the execution of one of my fantasies.

I know he was invested in Dex.

Even so, he must have been surprised that Dex capitulated to him so quickly. I know I was, when I heard the low, male grunts above me and paused sucking Dex’s gorgeous cock, only to look up and find him simulating the exact same thing on Max’s thumb.

Holy fucking Christ, that was hot. Even hotter was feeling the force of Dex’s climax in my mouth, of swallowing the proof that, between us, we’d aroused him that much. So to find them both kissing as I slipped out from below the vaulted chapel of their bodies blew my actual mind.

None of that changes, or helps, the fact that Dex pulled away as soon as Max had finished shooting his load.

Or that, after he stammered out some sort of choked apology and bolted into the bedroom to dress himself and flee what he probably considered the scene of a crime, Max was actually shaking when he pulled me into his arms under the spray.

He clung to me, and told me how proud he was of me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t me he wanted in his arms just then. Maybe that was a stupid reaction—I don’t doubt that Max’s desire for me is real—but given what transpired between him and Dex, I wouldn’t blame him for wanting a little closure.

‘It was a lot of fun,’ I agree now, ‘but I’m sure kissing you was way, way out of Dex’s comfort zone. He probably just freaked out.’

He laughs mirthlessly. ‘You think?’

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