Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
SARAH
The bed is empty when I wake up, and everything feels normal for a brief second before the events of last night come flooding back to me. Surprisingly, nothing sexual happened—likely due to my slight overconsumption of wine—but it was incredible all the same. I had fallen asleep with my heart brimming with affection.
This all feels too good to be true.
After checking my phone for notifications and pushing down the tiny twinge of disappointment at seeing nothing from Kat after last night, I roll out of bed and follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen. To my surprise, Quentin isn’t the only one here. Kat sits across from him, sipping her black coffee and wearing one of my old t-shirts and a familiar pair of pajama pants.
She stayed the night.
For some reason, that warms my heart, even though I wasn’t awake for it.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she teases.
I make a beeline for the coffee pot, though I don’t miss the slightly awkward silence, as if I interrupted their conversation. “Good morning.”
After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I join the two of them at the table. We talk a bit, but a lot of the time is spent in comfortable silence. It feels so domestic, so normal, like we’ve been doing this our entire lives.
Quentin and I don’t go back to work for a couple more weeks, and Kat says she doesn’t have any work scheduled today—just an engagement photo shoot tomorrow—so it’s an easy decision for the three of us to spend the day together.
We take our time getting ready for the day but make no plans to go anywhere. Maybe it’s all in my head, but there’s still an undercurrent of sexual tension flowing between the three of us after last night, and I’m dying to act on it.
But when Quentin leaves the room to take a shower, Kat and I can’t keep our eyes off each other, and I know she feels it too. I’m just finishing washing the dishes from last night when Kat joins me in the kitchen, backing me up against the counter.
My body immediately reacts to her touch, and the seconds stretch between us as she looks into my eyes.
“I want to kiss you,” she murmurs, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Then do it.”
That’s all the permission she needs. She presses her lips against my own, soft at first, but the second I arch my back to press against her, she deepens the kiss and takes control.
I melt into her demanding touch, and even though I have express permission to do this, it still gives me a thrill, like I’m breaking the rules and doing something I shouldn’t.
Kat and I both jump when Quentin clears his throat from the doorway, and heat rises to my cheeks. He’s raising an eyebrow and wearing a smirk as he looks between us, and I’m sure both of us look as sheepish as I feel. He’s clearly amused, though, and there’s a bulge at the front of his sweatpants that tells me he’s enjoying the show.
“Am I interrupting something, or am I allowed to join?”
Now that’s what I like to hear.
“Did you have something in mind?” Kat fires back with mischief in her eyes.
Quentin’s gaze shifts from me to her as he leans against the door frame and casually shoves his hands in his pockets. His suave, charming demeanor makes butterflies take flight in my stomach. How the hell did I get so lucky to be here with not only him, but the beautiful dark-haired woman at my side as well?
“How do you two feel about me taking charge today? Of both of you?”
My eyes widen, and I nod before Kat answers with her signature sass, “I think I can handle embracing my sub side today.”
His voice takes on a dominant edge. “Good. Then both of you, follow me.”
My stomach flips as we follow him down the hall into our bedroom, where he turns and gives us both appraising looks.
I had planned on asking Kat and Quentin separately about how they’d feel about all three of us getting involved with each other rather than me being intimate individually with each of them, but it seems like they’re both fully on board with this.
“Kiss her again,” he tells me. Something sparks inside of me at the command in his tone. I've always loved when he takes control like this, and now, with Kat here, it’s even more exhilarating.
I turn toward Kat and pull her in, and we start right where we left off in the kitchen, our kiss passionate and intense. She wraps one arm around my waist while her free hand lifts to cup the side of my jaw.
When we finally break away from each other, her expression mirrors how I feel: needy, desperate, and entirely too turned on.
“Kat,” Quentin says, “Undress my wife. Sarah, you do the same to her when she’s done with you.”
Fuck, that’s hot.
Kat’s fingertips graze my skin as she lifts the hem of my t-shirt and pulls it up. I raise my arms so she can take it off, and she tosses it to the floor. She gives me a wicked grin before hooking her fingers over the waistband of my pants and underwear and pulling them down until they fall to the floor in a heap of fabric that I quickly step out of and kick to the side.
Once I’m bare before her, I mirror her movements, pulling off her clothes with slow, teasing touches.
We're both naked now as we look at Quentin expectantly. “Kneel,” he commands, his voice filled with such authority that neither of us hesitates. We kneel before him and watch as he takes slow, measured steps to cover the space between us.
He reaches down, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and doing the same to Kat with his other hand. “You're both so beautiful,” he murmurs, tracing my lower lip with his thumb before he steps back slightly.
“On the bed.” We stand, our bodies brushing against each other as we climb onto the bed together.
Something about doing this with Kat changes the dynamic, shifts it into something still familiar but with a twist. Submission has always been something I’ve enjoyed, but seeing this beautiful, headstrong woman who previously took control now following my husband’s commands does something to me that I can’t explain. It’s erotic on an entirely different level.
“Touch her,” Quentin demands, looking straight at me. “Make her feel good.”
God, it’s been so long since I’ve touched her like this. We kissed the other night, and she had touched me, but I’d been at her mercy. Now, it’s my turn.
I slide my hand down Kat's stomach, feeling way she shivers under my touch. My fingertips trail lower, until I reach the apex of her thighs and slip a finger through her wetness.
Kat gasps softly and lifts her hips to meet my touch.
I go slow, taking my time and enjoying the way she loses control with every pass of my fingers. In my peripheral vision, Quentin is stroking his cock slowly while he watches us.
“Use your tongue,” he says, and I don't hesitate. I settle between her thighs, and even though I’m slightly nervous I’ll be terrible at this after twenty years of not doing it, I dive right in.
Kat moans as I run my tongue up her slit and focus on her clit. Her reactions tell me I’m doing something right, and my confidence picks up as I eat her pussy with reckless abandon.
I’m not sure how long it is until the bed dips beside me with Quentin’s weight, and then his hand is in my hair, gripping it against my scalp and using just enough pressure to force me to keep going.
“Fuck,” Quentin half-whispers. “Just like that. Make her come.”
I double my efforts, flicking my tongue over Kat's clit and slipping two fingers inside her. I know she’s close with the way her hips move and the way she moans.
“Don't stop,” she gasps. “Please, don't stop.”
I don't. I can't. I'm lost in the taste of her, in the feel of Quentin's hand in my hair as he urges me on. He’s still stroking himself, only adding to the frenetic energy passing between the three of us.
Kat comes with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around my head as her whole body shakes. My jaw is sore, but I don’t let up until I’m sure I’ve given her every last bit of pleasure I possibly can.
When I finally pull back, Quentin is tugging at my hair, pulling me up for a kiss, and it turns me on even more knowing he can taste Kat on my lips.
His hands dip between my legs, where I’m already wet and needy.
“I need you,” I say, rocking my hips against his too-gentle touch.
“Not yet,” Quentin taunts. He trails his fingers up my stomach, teasing my breasts. “You'll get what I give you when I give it to you. I’m the one in charge here.”
I fake a pout, but he lays me down beside Kat, who seems to be recovering from her orgasm rather quickly.
He touches me torturously slowly, teasing me, and Kat joins in a moment later, taking one of my nipples in her mouth and sucking.
It doesn’t take long before I’m panting and desperate for any sort of friction between my legs.
Kat kisses me while Quentin's fingers return to my clit, rubbing slow circles and building up my desperation. I moan into Kat's mouth as my muscles tense. I’m so fucking close, but Quentin is keeping me right on the edge and it’s maddening.
“Fuck,” Quentin groans. “I need to be inside you.”
“Please.”
He doesn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he positions himself above me and pushes his cock inside me, stretching me, filling me completely. I cry out at the suddenness of it, and my inner muscles clench around him.
Kat's hand slides between my legs, her palm against my clit and her fingers tight around the base of Quentin’s cock. It might be the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt, and from the way Quentin groans, I think he might feel the same.
Quentin fucks me hard and fast while Kat manages to work both of us with her hand. He drives into me over and over again, and the bed creaks under the force of his movements.
I’m already at the precipice, ready to let go and give in to the overwhelming pleasure.
“Harder,” I gasp. “Fuck me harder.”
He obliges, pounding into me like his life depends on it, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room alongside our heavy breathing and moans of pleasure. That last bit of tension in my core pushes me over the edge, and I come hard.
I cry out just before Kat captures my lips with her own, and I whimper into her mouth as I convulse around Quentin’s erection.
“You feel so good coming on my cock,” Quentin says in stuttered breaths right before he pulses and spills into me.
We collapse into a tangle of limbs, with Kat’s head on my shoulder and my hand in Quentin’s. Eventually, the overwhelm subsides, and it’s then that I find myself thinking, Nothing’s ever felt so right .