85. Henry
Henry relaxed into the center of the living room sofa, spreading his empty arms across the back. He was truly spoiled for choice this evening. Cast his gaze in front, and he might savor Jay’s smooth motions as he built them a fire. The protective apron Henry had insisted upon tying himself covered only Jay’s front. Delightfully bare skin invited appreciation from the collar at Jay’s neck to the curve of his ass above his folded legs. Each time Jay stretched forward to add kindling to the yellow-orange flame he’d coaxed to life in the fireplace, he revealed his bare ass in full—and the shining silver handle of the plug tucked inside.
But from the kitchen emerged Alice, equally enchanting in the dress he’d intended to be hers for the New Year’s gala at the club this night. Forgoing the event did not require denying himself the sensual enjoyment of the peek-a-boo raw silks dancing around her in midnight blue shadows. Knotted at the shoulders, the gathered fabric cascaded to asymmetrical points that flashed tantalizing hints of her glory from hip to ankle. Her smile, too, teased him, the sway in her hips growing stronger as she drew nearer.
She carried the tray he’d requested, laden with a pitcher of water, a trio of glasses, and a bowl of sugared grapes. Too sweet for his taste, but his dessert would be in the pleasure of feeding them to his spouses as they licked delicate grains of sugar from their lips.
Soft light from the lamps he’d left on low and their redecorated Christmas tree swept across Alice’s collar as she bent from the waist and settled the tray on a side table. The matching cuffs, both hers and Jay’s, lay nestled in the playroom dresser upstairs alongside Jay’s harness.
He extended his hand, fingers up in invitation. Alice sashayed toward him, slipping her hand in his, the contact as electric as a first kiss. Guiding her in, he slipped his other hand through waves of silk and cupped the flare of her hip. She stood centered between his knees, silhouetted by the flames of Jay’s making, their growing orange glow ringed with flickering edges.
“Soon you’ll be too warm even for this.” He released her hand and cradled both hips. Her dress lifted enticingly, thin silk parting to either side of her thighs. The first time he’d touched her in such an intimate manner, she’d willingly draped herself across the table at his command. He’d cautiously weighed each move, calculating the likelihood that she might startle or bolt. Now he lingered in appreciation, holding what was his. “Kneel for me, sweet girl. Arms up.”
Eyes sparkling, she folded herself at his feet as he raised the dress over her head. The outcome of that first dinner had been uncertain. But as he draped her gown across the back of the sofa, she knelt with her head unbowed, his collar circling her neck and his wedding band upon her finger. From great risks arose greater rewards.
Tracing a finger along her collarbone, he hummed quietly. Mahler’s Adagietto—love, longing, anticipation. He descended slowly, teasingly following the curve of her breast. Her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling under the spell of a single finger. He tweaked her nipple.
Inhaling sharply, she shivered but crowded forward for more. Do that again, her bold stare entreated him. Had he been Jay, undoubtedly the words would have touched the air.
He pinched the other, holding a beat longer with greater pressure.
Her lips parted; her eyelids fluttered. Perhaps she clenched around the plug he’d placed to relax and stretch her, though only she could say for certain.
“Have I found a tender spot?” He allowed amusement to ripple into the question, her answer almost certainly assured. “Shall I stop?”
Eyes closed, she shook her head as he rolled both nipples between finger and thumb. “Don’t stop. Not tender, just…” She mmm ed as though she’d sampled something delicious. “Still zingy.”
He’d paired the clamps with Jay’s request to worship Alice this afternoon, alternating sips of pain with ever-increasing stretches of pleasure until she shattered at the stroke of his fingers. Given that he’d first primed her body with her request—a buffalo flogging—her highly sensitized response to touch despite their dinner break was unsurprising. And invigorating.
Faint ridges rose against his fingertips, her tightening nipples creating soft peaks. He splayed one hand across her chest, above her breasts, and hooked his finger in the D-ring at the front of her collar. She lifted her chin. He tugged lightly, swaying her forward, and pushed her back. Again.
Barely twelve hours since he’d collared them both. His possessive hunger had yet to settle; it thrummed through him with unexpected energy. He’d idly thought he might sketch his spouses after dinner, but his greedy eyes wished to drink them in without distraction. This day would live in memory regardless. The specifics might fade, but Alice and Jay’s emotional outpourings had burned deep in his heart, as permanent as his initials seared into their collars.
He pressed two fingers against the monogram, holding the claim against Alice’s neck, against the heartbeat below. Her shoulders settled; she blinked slowly, a soft smile crossing her lips. His cock stirred, yet bound by the dress clothes he’d chosen for the day. He’d been exceedingly careful not to come since the morning. He no longer had—truthfully, had never had—Jay’s capacity for seemingly endless recharging. And he’d promised his dear ones a loving night before the hearth months ago.
“Has this day been all you hoped it would be?” Asking for their play requests after the hanging of the painting had given him the measure of their desires. More overt dominance from him for Alice; more opportunities to serve for Jay. Ideally, those needs had been met for now.
Alice lifted her hand to her throat and traced the edge of the collar. Dipping her head, she swallowed as she covered his hand with hers, her fingers small but strong. “All that and more.”
He drew her into his lap and offered his hunger a taste, a sensual kiss, sliding his lips across hers and wedding their tongues. Encouraging her to straddle him, he cupped her ass in both hands to bring her closer. Her bare thighs rubbed over the tweed of his trousers. A shudder coursed through her.
“You cannot possibly be cold,” he teased, peering ostentatiously around her. Jay’s fire blazed in the hearth, casting a ruddy glow. He pitched his voice louder. “Not with such a magnificent fire to warm you.”
Jay, his hands encased in fire-retardant gloves, wriggled his ass while balancing larger logs across the base he’d built in the fireplace.
“Not cold—” Alice ended on a squeak, the natural consequence of his decision to fuss with the handle of her plug. Her thighs gripped him, the firing of her muscles rippling alongside his, her every subconscious tell exposed to him. “But aren’t you—” Her delightful gasps gave away the distraction he caused her. “Aren’t you too warm?”
He’d selected a breathable lightweight tweed, but soon, yes, the heat in the room would become uncomfortable. The discomfort would assist in slowing his arousal. He guided her hands to the open collar of his dress shirt, massaging her fingers as he laid them against the first button. “Perhaps you would care to help me with that? I might do without the shirt.”
The midnight blue tie that matched her dress had been abandoned in the playroom, put to work as an impromptu blindfold as she writhed under his clamps and Jay’s worship. She fingered the open vee at his throat, nimbly freeing the button. Parting the shirt, she uncovered a deeper swath of skin and spread her hands inside, her touch firm against his chest.
“Just like I thought.” She rested her cheek beside his. Her breath whispered across his ear. She stroked his chest, straining the fabric at the next buttonhole before retreating and releasing the button. “You’re plenty warm.” She rolled her hips and thrust against him, sly minx. “Getting warmer.”
“I cannot fathom how you would notice.” He spoke in the intimate bass that she confessed enhanced her arousal in a multitude of systems. Her methodical, mechanical understanding of her physical responses made mapping them a delight. He might pluck the strings he wished to vibrate and create a symphony whenever he chose, unleashing beautiful new music for all the senses. “You appear a bit flushed yourself, dearest. One might even say hot.”
A third button fell prey to her fingers. His shirt gaped to the waist. Alice lightly scraped her nails over him—up and brushing the shirt off his shoulders; down and gripping his flanks as though poised for a ride. Holding his gaze, she tucked her fingertips into his pants and eased his shirt up and out. She followed the line of his waistband around to the sofa cushion, and he obligingly leaned forward. His bare chest brushed her breasts; her exhale stuttered. “Do I?”
“Most certainly.” He tipped her sideways in an embrace, as though he meant to bear her down and lie atop her. But in the final movements, as her legs straightened, he rolled her hips and shoulders. Facedown across his lap, she lay with her ass enticingly positioned for a fresh round of impact play. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”
Her catlike stretch extended nearly the length of the couch. Sighing hungrily, she pressed her feet into the cushion and dug her fingers into the armrest beyond her head. “More than a look?”
Her voice changed for him—sweet, hopeful, a touch of pleading embedded within. Not the authoritative voice she used on Jay. Once he would have concealed his laugh. Not today. The energy flowed through him. How much his dear ones had grown. How much they all had. If she hadn’t yet noted the difference, perhaps she felt it. The new year would be an excellent time to begin mentoring her more closely, helping her recognize moods as well as physical responses, to build her confidence in her range. She too would create symphonies.
“I may indeed have more than a look on my mind, clever girl.” He traced a sinuous curve down her back, a blank canvas, pale and waiting. The flogging had brought blood briefly to the surface, but the color had faded. She and Jay would sweat before the hearth; the heat and firelight would cast a rosy glow over them both. Though he might help it along. He swatted her ass lightly, lifting from the bottom, a steady rhythm in the crease of her thighs. Her plug swayed and bobbed, bright as any bauble on their Christmas tree. “Not all attire is ornamental.”
A pleasant sigh cascaded through her. She lay pliant, agreeable, her body at rest under his attention.
Jay rose to his feet and shifted the screen across the fireplace. Flames filled the space behind the patterned grid, throwing fleur-de-lis shadows out into the room. Stepping back, Jay thrust his fingers through his hair and captured the dark strands behind his ears, his elbows spread wide. The apron ties dangling from his waist rested temptingly against his ass. The thick weight of the leather, intended for blacksmithing, concealed his cock as he turned.
“Think this is done for now.” Jay tossed the gloves onto the wood rack, his aim unerring though his gaze strayed toward the sofa.
Alice rocked into each crisp smack of Henry’s hand, stronger and spaced at greater intervals. Anticipation made the bed for arousal to lie in.
“Anything else I can handle for you, Master Henry?” Jay’s sweet smirk suggested numerous possibilities. His tenor carried richness and depth, more love than awe—not a submissive seeking reassurance but a spouse comfortably following his lead.
Jay’s confidence and Alice’s undulations tested Henry’s intention to keep their pace more adagio than allegro. His cock had certainly taken notice. Inhaling a slow breath, he poured smooth calm into his voice. “The fire won’t need tending for a good long while?”
“This flame isn’t going out.” Glancing down, Jay rocked his hips, his smirk firmly in place. “It’ll burn past midnight.”
“I have no doubt.” Henry beckoned him closer, gesturing for him to swivel as he approached. Alice mewled at the pause. He delivered a stinging slap, and her hips jerked. She moaned and wriggled back for more. Reaching across her, he tugged at Jay’s apron strings. “Then as you’ve finished that task, you won’t have need of this”—the knot came undone, and the apron gaped at the sides, strings dangling—“and our wife and I won’t be denied the beauty of your form any longer.”
Alice rolled up on an elbow and grasped for Jay with her other hand. He knelt smoothly, bowing his head toward her. She plucked the neck strap over his head and cast the apron aside, immediately stroking the expanse of chest revealed. “Mm-hmm, that’s so much better. Good thinking.” Casting a look back over her shoulder, she raised an eyebrow at Henry and rolled her hips dangerously thoroughly against his lap. “Although some people are still overdressed.”
“And some people”—stilling her hips, he pressed his thumbs on either side of her plug—“have been known to find a half-dressed frenzy exceedingly stimulating.”
Alice’s moan folded a laugh within. “It’s me. I’m some people.”
He squeezed her ass in agreement; her soft, ample flesh filled his palms. His cock pulsed. But he wouldn’t be rushed, neither by his spouses nor by the tyranny of physiology. For six months he’d framed and reframed the images in his mind’s eye, a hundred permutations of their evening before the hearth. In time, they would embody them all. But tonight, a single choice would do—a place to begin, as the new year began with them.
“Spread the blankets, please, Jay.” The coffee table had been shifted and the pillows and blankets carried down while he’d prepared dinner. A vast expanse waited between the sofa and the hearth, as fine a bed as any they’d shared. “When that is accomplished, I will have a great many things you may do for me.”
Gratifying, how quickly Jay sprang to his feet, his cock half hard and growing. Allowing him to come twice this afternoon lessened the risk that he might need release before Henry’s greedy eyes had drunk their fill. “If you are also satisfied with the day thus far…?”
Dark eyes widened; Jay could pour his whole heart into those endless brown pools in seconds. “Satisfied…” He gripped his collar, his fist curling around Henry’s claim. “That’s not a big enough word. I’m…” Shaking his head slowly, Jay moved his mouth wordlessly. He rose on the balls of his feet and shook out a shrug. “I’m home again. In my skin, with you—I want the day to last forever. It’s better than if we’d gotten our collars after the scavenger hunt, because it’s a whole day of nothing but being yours. Just us being us, the all-of-us us, not the okay-for-public-consumption us.”
Jay and Alice deserved more opportunities for extended play. No, not only them. The quality of the air changed when they were granted so much time. The feel of it on the skin, the freedom in the lungs, the clarity in the mind—so much of modern life depended upon rushing. So many souls frantically stole time for themselves, a mere hour here or there, but never enough to fully rest. Never enough to simply be.
The collars served as a reminder that they could relax into themselves. That Jay could be proud of his submissive nature. That Alice could explore emotional depths she’d rarely imagined in herself.
“The all-of-us us.” Stretching his arm along Alice’s spine, he rested one hand at the nape of her neck, touching her collar. He extended the other to Jay, inviting him to kneel, clasping Jay’s hand when he did. “I cannot think of anything I have wanted more in my life.”
Yet he’d held himself at a distance.
He’d been Jay’s age when he’d despaired of having the life he imagined for himself. Thirty and unable to find a proper spark to last beyond a handful of play sessions, politely declining further interaction. Victor and Emma made love look effortless—the perfect marriage, the perfect play partners, the perfect family in progress. But he could not find it, regardless of how deeply he interrogated and studied each new potential partner.
“Have faith, Henry,” Victor had counseled him. “The life you dream of will find you.” They’d been sitting in his office, away from the din and the curious eyes of the salon. Emma lay drowsing on the chaise, her head on Victor’s thigh, his hand resting in her hair and a blanket draped over her. Victor spoke in hushed tones. “Keep your eyes open—or don’t. You’ll feel it in their energy. The way they entwine with you, so strongly you cannot imagine returning to life without them.”
A shame he couldn’t tell Victor how right he’d been. About the patience, and the faith, and the way Alice and Jay would wrap so deeply around his very bones that the threat of losing them would stagger him.
Curling his fingers, he reassured himself of the reality of the flesh beneath: Jay and Alice, solid, real, loving him so much they had chased him to Maine and confronted him with his fears. “I imagined finding love a test of mental discipline, an endeavor to be approached with caution and calculation.”
Alice snaked her hand down the sofa and squeezed his knee. No doubt she understood the impulse.
Jay tugged his lips between his teeth. “And when caution didn’t work?”
“I allowed my heart to do the choosing.” Both times. He’d tried to manage love—to deny it, to control it—but in the end one could only surrender to it. “And I accepted what your hearts had also chosen.”
Therein lay the wonder. Alice and Jay had achieved innumerable milestones in the last year. They had grown tenfold their confidence in themselves and their capabilities. These two people, so crucial to his own happiness, had become stronger, happier, and healthier. They had formed robust support networks in sharing truths with friends and family.
They still chose to be his.
He could receive no greater love or accolade in his lifetime.
He kissed Jay with the wonder and gratitude in his heart. Melting kiss into kiss, he fed Jay his full attention, a steadily burning flame. When finally he drew back, Jay tracked him with dazed, hungry eyes.
“Spread the blankets, my love,” Henry murmured. “It’s my turn to choose our amusements.”
Layer upon layer cushioned the floor, Jay snapping each into the air and allowing it to float downward.
Henry’s brisk, teasing swats pleasingly pinked Alice’s ass and thighs. Hints of dusky rose appeared between her thighs in the gap that widened each time she relaxed.
Crawling deliciously across the cozy nest, Jay tugged and flipped misbehaving corners into position. The top sheet from their bed served as the final touch, thin and crisp and cool as it rode the currents of the comforters below.
With a whisper, Henry sent Alice reaching up and beyond the arm of the sofa. Muscles fired in extension, her body reshaping to fulfill his request, a flowing tension akin to the moments before orgasm. She wriggled backward and rolled up onto her knees beside him. In her hand she cradled the small bowl of sugared grapes before her breasts like an offering. The frosted dark fuchsia of the grapes rose in a mound above the wide edge of the bowl, a lustrous emerald-green glass.
Henry plucked a grape from the top with delicate pressure. Sugar created friction against the pads of finger and thumb, rough and toothy as a sketchpad for charcoal. Holding Alice’s gaze, he raised the grape to her mouth. As her lips parted, he dragged the fruit across her bottom lip, pulling it outward, leaving a starry trail of glistening sugar.
She teasingly attempted to bite down; he pulled the fruit back. Her pout drew her mouth to a smaller point, accentuating her cheekbones. The firelight cast her hazel eyes in gold.
“My sweet Demeter.” Goddess she was, in the dress and out of it. Achingly slowly, he pushed the grape between her lips and his fingers with it. “Mind you don’t leave a mess, now.”
She tongued the fruit away from him, tucking it into her cheek as she stole sugar from his fingertips. Drawing back, she released a suction pop with his fingers. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
But her gaze strayed past him, and her brow lifted as she savored the dessert. Mmm, yes, the vision before them inspired a suddenly sharp desire to make a delightful mess.
Jay lolled in the center of the blankets on his back, his arms flung wide and one knee raised. His cock bobbed higher beneath their stares.
Memory created an overlapping exposure. Today’s contented, confident Jay sprawled beside the painfully uncertain Jay stepping into Henry’s domain for an early lesson. His steadfast gaze gradually overtook his younger self’s tangle of joy and disbelief that he might carry Henry’s sheets home with him.
Henry selected a second grape, a sugary confection wider than his thumb. “Come here and sample a reward for your good work, my thoughtful boy.”
Jay rocked once, using the momentum to power his rise to his hands and knees. He crawled toward them, shoulders rising and falling, collar a dark band at his throat. As Jay extended his tongue to accept his prize, Alice licked her lips, her legs shifting restlessly against Henry’s thigh.
Jay, too, cleared the sugar from Henry’s grasp, tugging at his finger to the last knuckle. Henry’s cock resented its confinement, lobbying for a repeat of the morning’s explosive finish. A familiar impatience, from the very beginning of their acquaintance.
“Another? You seem…” He withdrew his finger to the sound of Jay’s soft whine. “Hungry.”
Coyly lowering his chin, Jay gazed up through lidded eyes. “I wouldn’t mind another taste, Master Henry.”
How sweet the words when no tremble shook Jay’s tenor.
Henry swirled his fingers above the bowl, his knuckles grazing Alice’s breasts. Cradling the glass closer, she pressed into his touch. He crowded her, leaning in, rubbing his cheek alongside hers as he retrieved a grape.
“Not to worry, my love.” Nuzzling the soft curve of her ear, he left kisses behind. “We’ll share far more than frosted fruit this night.”
She shuddered, her hips thrusting down against the sofa, as a whispered moan fell from her lips. She did so enjoy the middle, and she’d gone weeks without it. Such a tableau would be a fitting first night before the fire—once he’d heated their desire to match the flames.
He offered the fresh grape to Jay before his own desire ran too hot for so early in the night. Tiny nibbles grazed his finger and thumb. Jay mixed teeth with tongue, chasing down each grain of sugar. Not the best method of cooling his ardor. He swiped his thumb across Jay’s mouth and growled, pouring more bass into his voice.
“Go and stand in the center of the sheets for me, my boy.” More than five years since he’d first uttered such a command to Jay, the night of their first truly private session. If only he might reach back in time and soothe that younger man’s fears, assure him that every good thing he’d ever imagined would be his. But beauty lay in the path from there to here. Growth and understanding, for both of them. “I’m of a mind to enjoy a show.”
Jay flowed to his feet. Athletic grace carried him silently to the designated position, his feet leaving dimples across the sheet that vanished as the comforter below swelled out from each new step. He stood at ease, facing them, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
“Lovely.”
And he was. Lean muscle shaped him in pleasing angles and curves. His thighs, built for endurance over speed, flared with a strength that invited touch. His abdomen rose from a defined vee, firm and pulsing gently with his breath. His powerful glutes and the roundness of his calves couldn’t be seen in his current stance.
“Turn for me, please. Face the tree you chose so well.” He had; the fir had survived remarkably well despite their absence, though that might be the doing of their unexpected houseguest. Thoughtful of Alice, to add personal touches to their décor. The beginning of their own traditions, she’d called it—a promising bit of long-term thinking that suggested her own growing comfort with the bonds of love beyond the physical. Though those could be quite nice indeed. He stroked her spine from her collar to the curve of her ass. “Join him, dearest. Stand in front, facing the tree.”
She unfolded from her seat and bent to lay the bowl aside.
A devilish urge captured his tongue. “Keep the grapes with you. Just as you’ve been holding them.”
Eyeing him beneath a raised brow, she cradled the bowl between her breasts once more.
He allowed a serene smile to greet her skepticism. “Good girl. Go on.”
She stepped across the edge of the world, onto the makeshift bed that marked his domain. Two players ready to dance to his tune in the flickering firelight—a musical snow globe awaiting only his turn of the key.
“Closer,” he called, as Alice spun into place before Jay.
The top of her head brushed Jay’s lips. His hands remained clasped behind him; his cock slid toward the small of her back with each tiny shift of her feet. His fingers twitched; his breathing rustled Alice’s hair. The crispness of anticipation hung in the air. Now was the moment for the conductor to lift his baton.
Resettling himself in the seat, Henry hummed. “Jay.” Even his faintest tone tilted Jay’s head, his husband attentive and alert for his every desire. “Embrace our lovely girl, please. I wish to see your hands in motion across her skin.” Within limits, of course. What fun was a game with no rules? “You must remain upright, with your feet precisely where they are, but you may caress all your fingers can reach.”
Jay wrapped his arms below Alice’s and cradled her stomach in his hands. He bent his head to hers, breathing through waves of wheat-blond hair. Inhaling deeply, he spread his hands and rubbed in slow circles, his palms engulfing her hips.
Henry rested his hands atop his thighs, pressing his fingers flat. “What delights do you smell, Jay?”
Dipping lower, Jay ran his nose along Alice’s neck. “Lemons.” His hands, too, slid downward; he dragged his fingers up the front of her thighs. “And lust.”
Alice tipped her head back and stole a breath at Jay’s throat. “Sure that’s not you, stud?”
Rolling his hips forward, Jay pressed his erection to Alice’s back. “Oh, it’s me too, no doubt.”
Playfulness launched them beyond beauty, into unselfconscious enjoyment of themselves and each other.
“Me as well.” As two faces swung toward Henry, he spread his knees wide. His cock tented his slacks.
Jay swallowed and wet his lips. Alice narrowed her eyes, her gaze smoky.
Exaggerating an approving sigh, Henry folded his hands across his stomach, his half-removed shirt fluttering at his sides. “Continue.” He spoke barely above the crackle of the fireplace, encouraging Alice and Jay to bend their senses toward him, focusing wholly on his commands and their responses. “You’ve much more to explore, my dear boy.”
Sweeping upward, Jay encountered a barrier to Alice’s breasts—her arms and the glass bowl she nestled between them. He chose the path out and around, clasping her arms, squeezing his way to her shoulders, and slipping down the front of her breasts. Jay had been the tease and the soother this afternoon, raising her nipples to fierce peaks as he lapped at the buds past the pinch of the clamps, then claiming as much flesh as his mouth could hold when the clamps’ release drowned her in sensation.
Her wordless pleas had been exquisite, a spiraling pitch that woke a fierce urge to roll her beneath him. Henry curled his fingers into his slacks. That hunger would be sated tonight. But first he would exquisitely frustrate his wife. She had, after all, so thoughtfully carried the torment herself.
“What a shame it would be for those luscious grapes to go uneaten.”
Always a quick study, Jay rolled his fingers closer to the bowl, tracing minute corkscrews as he spiraled inward. “These grapes?”
Henry hummed quiet agreement. “Their sweet coating can be quite sticky. Messy, perhaps. Clinging.”
Jay rocked a grape back and forth beneath one finger. Alice’s breasts pressed deeper into the bowl with each new inhalation. With a patience he rarely possessed, Jay coaxed the grape to the edge and finger-walked it upward. A trail of sugar gleamed in the firelight, rising from the bowl to the outer edge of Alice’s collarbone. Holding the grape steady, Jay bent his dark head beside Alice’s and curled his tongue around it. As the bite disappeared into his mouth, he kissed the spot where it had been.
“Harder.” Henry kept his hands well away from his cock, lest temptation overtake him. Not yet. Not until he’d seen his fill. “Sample her, Jay. Suck her in and taste the sweetness on her skin.” Any top she wore to work would cover her there. “Leave a mark.”
Jay fastened his mouth to Alice. His hair swept across her shoulder, swaying as he rocked into each pull.
Lips parting, she arched into him, thrusting her shoulders against Jay’s chest. Her eyelids fluttered; the dancing flames behind her seemed a glorious shower of sparks originating from her.
The glow outlined Jay’s firm buttocks, the strength running down his legs as he planted his feet and held his ground. Apollo he might be, the emblem of eternal youth, the sunny optimist bathed in golden light.
Alice moaned, and Jay lifted his head, his dark eyes watching Henry.
“Beautifully done.” Henry rubbed his hands down his thighs, fingers gripping, the bite of pressure-pain a distraction and prod for his own arousal. Elegant torture. “But we mustn’t leave our girl unbalanced.”
Alice, leaning her head against Jay’s shoulder, rolled her neck toward Henry. Hazel eyes flashed.