Page 61 of Duplicity

I tell myself to remember that last part. To hold it close, to harness it.

Ethan is sprawled out in front of me, long legs outstretched and hands cradling his head, like he’s at the receiving end of this kind of treatment every day. I suppose he was, until Talia quit. She told me she was his third Seraph EA. I’m not surprised, really. The way he spoke to me just now is so fucking nasty, so contemptuous, that if a man spoke to me like that in my place of work I’d probably crack a plate or two over his head.

Unfortunately, him speaking to me like that inthiscontext is, for some reason, hot as hell.

I’ll show him what all the fuss is about.

Arrogant twat.

His dick is, in my limited experience, very nice indeed—long and thick and clean and very, very hard, a fact I confirm when I wrap my hand around its root. I bend and look up at him through my eyelashes. His steeliness is still there, but it’s banking, building into something far more ominous. He’s a black thundercloud rolling in after an oppressive day: all pent-up danger.

And he’s planning on unleashing it all onme.

I dive in, acutely conscious of Brendan’s eyes on us. I want to wipe the smug entitlement off Ethan’s face, I want to unravel him just like he unravelled me right now, and I also want to prove myself to Brendan. I want his envy and his praise; I want him to think I’m the best hire he’s ever made.

Basically, I’m performing for both of them, and it galvanises me.

I lick him like an ice cream. I take him in my mouth and suck, marvelling at the weird thought that, even if you blindfolded me, I’d know that this wasn’t Brendan. I embrace the strangeness of blowing a random guy in his office in the middle of the afternoon and I let rip. I take him as deep as I can. My eyes fill with tears as he hits the spongy flesh at the back of my throat, but it’s worth it, because the sound he makes is so low and guttural and so full of unwilling appreciation that it almost makes me smile around his dick.

‘Fuck,’ he hisses through his teeth. ‘So good.’

‘Good enough to earn a fucking?’ Brendan enquires through gritted teeth.

‘Yeah. Fill her up.’

Brendan comes around to kneel behind me. I’m bracing with one hand on the sofa, back arched and bottom in the air. I’m basically doing the cow part of cat-cows but in porno crotchless panties. My exposed pussy is still pulsing from its orgasm, still sensitive to the cold air circulating. As Brendan kneels betweenmy legs and I feel his heat, I experience the oddest sense of rightness.

This Ethan guy is very sexy. Terrifying, but sexy. It may be fun and unusual and arousing to be messing around with him, but the sensation of Brendan ripping foil and sheathing himself and dragging the beautiful, blunt head of his crown back and forth over my entrance to lube himself up with my arousal is a homecoming, a key turning in a lock. And when he pushes inside me and I attempt to accommodate him with shimmies of my hips, the dick in my mouth goes from being my sole focus to a hot gimmick.

Because when Mr Brendan Sullivan is intent on burying himself balls-deep inside you, it’s hard to focus on anything else.

Even when your face is buried in another man’s crotch.

Taking both of them like this is beyond dirty. I’m on my knees for them, my breasts jiggling freely as Brendan clamps his hands to my hips and begins to move. His first full thrust has me shunting forward onto Ethan’s cock. I gag. He groans. The wrist bracing on the sofa screams. And my traitorous, still-swollen pussy rejoices.

‘Fuck, this view,’ Brendan huffs out behind me. ‘It’s sensational. How does she feel, Kingsley? Too bad you won’t get to fuck her. Her cunt is so. Fucking.Tight.’

‘She feels amazing.’ Ethan leans forward a little, just enough that he can wrap my ponytail around his fist like a rein. ‘I’m gonna come so hard all over her.’

‘She’s a lucky, lucky girl,’ Brendan muses. He must be white-knuckling my hips. He eases out of me and pauses, and I bracemyself as hard as I can for impact before he drives forward. The way he fills me up is so sublime. He’s so, so deep in this position, and he’s practically performing this blow job for me, because his thrust pushes me forward again onto Ethan. My eyes are watering, I’m struggling for breath, but Ethan holds me here for a beat with my ponytail as he lets out a ragged exhale.

‘Let me tell you, love, the sight of you taking my dick from this angle while you suck Kingsley off is so fucking hot,’ Brendan says. ‘Maybe I’ll make you do this to all my mates, hmm? God, I love the thought of that.’

Even in the heat of the action, I bank this thought: Brendan is getting his pound of flesh from me right now. I’ll remember, when I’m sitting on that plane with Tabs having lied through my teeth to him and taken his money, how blithely he passes me around his friends and treats me like a plaything, a free-for-all.

Brendan Sullivan is not a victim here.

It seems my and Brendan’s machinations on Ethan’s dick are working their magic, for he’s growing more agitated beneath me. The fingers of his free hand flex on my jaw, he grips my ponytail more tightly, and my glances up at him through my lashes show that impassive face of his contorting as his arousal builds. And for all that I’m stuck between the two of them, impaled at both ends by their dicks, I get that heady rush of power, because all this grunting and grimacing and gasping around me?I’m doing that.

‘Fuck, I’m close,’ Ethan rasps in a borderline panicked voice that’s a world away from his previous entitled drawl.

‘Let go of her, then,’ Brendan orders. As soon as Ethan has released my hair, Brendan is bending over me and wrapping his arms around my chest and hauling me up onto my knees. He moulds me to him, my bare back against the firm bulk of his cotton-covered pecs, one hand stroking over one of my exposed breasts and the other sliding down between my legs to find thegap in my panties. ‘Put your arms around my neck, love,’ he tells me, and I do. I lean back and I grip the back of his head as best I can as he dips his face to my shoulder.

It’s only then that my gaze meets Ethan’s. The expression on his face tells me exactly what kind of sight I must make, stretched out like this for Brendan in my useless scraps of black lace, his fingers working my clit, my knees bracketing his. Ethan looks unleashed. There’s no other word for it.

Gone is the bored arrogance, the insouciance, with which he greeted us. His jaw is clenched so tightly that the muscles are jumping on both sides of it; his eyes are wild; and he’s managed during the course of his blow job to mess up all that dirty blonde hair pretty impressively. He gets to his feet, gripping his cock like it’s an unexploded grenade, his shirt undone and trousers hanging by a thread around his hips.

‘Show her who’s boss, why don’t you?’ Brendan goads him.

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