Page 19 of Guilty as Sin

I feel him before I see him, the shape of his presence pulling into ours. A soft moan escapes her as his arms wrap around, and she tilts her head, lets him leave his own marks along her neck, teeth and stubble brushing her collarbone. She presses back into him, eyes closed in perfect bliss, and her confidence is contagious. The arch of her back is all I need to see—so much desire.

Karl’s attention moves down her spine, hands taking their time, savoring every inch of bare skin. Her last shred of fabric, a short black skirt, slips lower, pooling at the floor, and I catch her chin, force her to see what she is doing to us. She is exquisite, impatient, an angel or maybe a devil, and there’s nothing I can do but give myself to it, to her, to us.

Zoe returns every kiss, her full lips staining my skin pink, marking me the way I long to mark her. The tempo of her touch matches the rhythm of her breath, and I watch her turn to Karl with an energy that defies explanation. She slides to her knees and lifts her chin, her gaze shifting between the two of us.

Her fingers slip beneath his waistband and it’s his turn to moan. She takes her time with him, deliberate and skilled, slow enough that I’m aching for her to come back. He leans back, lips parted in surrender, eyes half closed, the intensity of it leaving him breathless. Zoe is a marvel of precision and perfection,touching and pulling and working every corner of his restraint. Her mouth leaves marks on his chest and shoulders that match the marks she left on me. His gasp sounds like victory and defeat, everything all at once, the taut control of a man who is about to break in the best possible way.

“Rolf,” she breathes, her eyes on me even as her hand moves over Karl. “Karl. God, I want both of you.”

There’s no hesitation, no question about what we are doing and why. My pulse roars and my vision tunnels, focus collapsing to this second, this touch, the shape of her, and anticipating the sound of her release.

I pull her back to me with the force of a collapsing star, letting gravity do its work, the speed of my breath catching up to the speed of my need.

She laughs, surprised and delighted, the warmth of it more intimate than anything yet. My fingers are everywhere at once, exploring the small of her back, the arch of her ribs, the warmth of her skin. She twists with a dexterity that leaves me in awe, one arm reaching to draw Karl back in, fingers pulling him closer, insisting. Her hunger for us is delicious. She devours with both hands, never breaking eye contact with me.

Zoe pushes us onto the bed, ravenous and unrepentant, and the collision of body against body is as beautiful as I thought it would be, as unpredictable and natural and feral as art. She straddles me, hair tumbling over her eyes. Her touch is precise and burning, and I let it consume me, the heat spilling over everything. Zoe exudes life without limitation or compromise. She pivots, finds Karl’s mouth again, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He takes advantage of her distraction, rolls her to his side, and we’re one impossible shape, indistinguishable in the tangle of limbs and devotion.

Our simultaneous gasps fill the dark silence.

When she finally says I love you, it’s like air.

Karl and I collapse into it, the three of us making declarations that were already written. The room goes electric with future and possibility, and I swear I’ve never been this alive.

CHAPTER 15

ZOE

Ihesitate at the threshold, my body still humming from the vivid scene moments ago. Karl's hand finds mine, his touch reassuring and warm, while Rolf's gaze meets mine with a quiet intensity that draws me farther inside. The door clicks shut, sealing us in with our desires.

Every small detail becomes a potent sensation, the world outside slipping away to leave us alone in the comfort of this secretive sanctuary. The plush seating invites indulgence, inviting us to surrender to its decadent embrace. Shadows dance across the discreet artwork, each piece a silent echo of what we've witnessed and what I'm now achingly ready to explore. I breathe in the charged air, every inhale a reminder of the moans and music that pulsed through the club moments ago, stirring me into this state of quivering want.

Karl's hand remains a constant, grounding presence. "Zoe," he whispers, his soft voice an exquisite blend of care and intent. It’s both an invitation and a reassurance, leading me deeper into the promise of the room and of the two men who flank me.

Rolf watches, the weight of his attention more vivid than any touch. He says nothing, but the look he gives speaks volumes—trust us, let go, take what you want.

I move forward, the soft carpet beneath my heels like yielding flesh. My heart hammers, thrilled and vulnerable, as Karl pulls me close, easing me toward the center of the room.

A sumptuous nest of cushions awaits, circular and inviting, the embodiment of luxury and comfort. I'm surrounded by them and by Karl and Rolf, cocooned in a space that feels both infinite and immediate. They each have a hand on me now, physical touch replacing any need for words. Karl's gentle pressure at the small of my back urges me down to sit, while Rolf's firm hold at my waist anchors me to the present, to the shared promise of what's about to unfold.

My mind is a fevered blur, the earlier scene playing out again in the theater of my imagination, each frame more vivid, more consuming. The woman's ecstatic cries, the synchronized passion of the men—it awakened a hunger in me that no amount of reasoning can deny. I'm trembling, and they must feel it, because I hear whispered affirmations, Karl and Rolf's voices soft against the crescendo of my pounding heart.

I close my eyes, focusing on the sensations building inside me. The low light casts everything in rich, seductive hues, every color deep and saturated like the desires I can no longer contain. I feel Karl’s hand slide up to my shoulder, fingers deftly brushing the strap of my dress aside. Rolf’s grip shifts, finding the sensitive skin at my hip. I gasp, caught in the exquisite balance between anticipation and release.

"Are you sure?" It's Rolf this time, the soothing cadence of his words laced with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. He's precise, measured, even now, when passion threatens to undo us all.

"I am," I breathe, the words scarcely more than a sigh as they escape my lips. I remember the declaration I made, bold in its simplicity, but profound in how it shifted something deep within me. I want to try it like that—both together. The audacity of itthrums through my veins, filling me with the certainty that this is what I want. That this is what I need.

And then it begins, the soft cadence of Karl and Rolf's movements becoming one with my pulse, a harmony of touch and intent. The dress slips from my shoulder, fabric whispering against my skin as they coax me into an ever-deepening intimacy. Their whispered promises intermingle with the warmth of their bodies, and I'm lifted, carried on a wave of indulgence and desire.

Karl’s mouth finds the curve of my neck, his lips teasing, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arch into him, feeling Rolf’s strength at my back, his hands navigating my body with the same skill and precision I’d seen in the display that now seems meant to inspire this moment. Each sensation amplifies, doubling in intensity, every touch a declaration that this—this is what it means to want without reservation.

Our breath comes faster, mingling with quiet affirmations that fill the room like music, underscoring each exquisite movement. Time stretches, elastic and accommodating, bending to the will of our relentless, unfolding passion. Karl and Rolf flank me, above me, beside me, their attentions wrapping around my every sense, unraveling me until all that remains is the raw, vibrant core of my desire.

And then, through the lush din of our shared pleasure, I hear my own voice, steady yet charged, completing the cycle. "I want it like that—both together." This time, the words are a promise as much as a plea, an affirmation that sends us into an orbit of unrestrained ecstasy.

Nothing exists beyond this room, beyond us. Every tether to expectation, to inhibition, burns away as we fall deeper, fully into the exquisite, explicit now.

Karl's hands are in my hair, fingers tangling with the waves as he guides my face to his. The kiss is deep, consuming, stealingwhat little breath I have left. When he pulls back, I'm dizzy with want, my lips still parted in silent invitation.

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