Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
Marco
The fucking nerve of this guy.
I glanced over at my date—Andy or Alex or something with an A—and shot him an apologetic smile. “Excuse me for a moment.”
I slid off the bar stool and turned to face Wick, drawing myself up to my full height. Not that it made much difference—the bastard still had a couple inches on me. But it was the principle of the thing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.” I kept my voice even, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath the silk. “It sounded as though you were trying to tell me what to do. And last I checked, Wick, you don’t get to do that.”
A muscle ticked in Wick’s cheek. His eyes were molten with barely leashed emotion. Anger, sure. But something else too, something that made my pulse kick up a notch.
“Marco.” My name was a growl in his throat, a warning and a plea all rolled into one. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
A slow smile spread over my face. “Oh, I think we both know you like it hard, Wick. ”
His hands flexed at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out and throttling me. Or from dragging me in for a kiss.
“Marco, please.” Meghan’s soft, insistent voice cut through the charged air. I glanced over to see her standing just behind Wick, her eyes wide and pleading in her pale face. She looked vulnerable. Human. Real.
And so fucking beautiful it made my chest ache.
My anger drained out of me like water through a sieve. Because as much as Wick pissed me off, as much as his possessiveness and presumption grated on my nerves, I couldn’t deny the way my body reacted to him. The way it had been reacting since that first electric touch of his mouth on mine at the wedding.
I wanted him. I wanted them both, with a desperation that terrified me. A need that went so far beyond the physical it left me raw and reeling. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that I would do whatever they asked of me. Even if it meant swallowing my pride and my fears and my doubts and following Wick out of this bar like a dog on a leash.
“Okay,” I said, my voice ragged in my throat. “Okay, let’s go.”
Wick grabbed my arm, his fingers biting into my bicep through the fabric of my shirt. I let him lead me through the crowded club, Meghan trailing behind us. I could feel the eyes of the other patrons on us as we passed. We’d caused a goddamn scene.
I didn’t give a single, solitary fuck.
Let them talk. Let them stare. Let them wonder what the hell kind of depravity we were getting up to. I knew the truth. Whatever this was between us, it was more than just sex or lust or a passing fancy. It was real and raw and powerful, a connection that defied logic and reason and common sense. And I was done pretending I didn’t want it, didn’t need it, didn’t crave it like a fucking drug.
Cool air hit my face as we stepped out of the club, the muted strains of the jazz music fading behind us. Wick kept his grip on my arm as he flagged down a cab, his other hand on the small of Meghan’s back.
We piled into the back seat, a mess of limbs and heat and barely restrained desire. Wick barked Meghan’s address at the driver, then turned to face us, his eyes glittering in the dimness. “When we get upstairs,” he said, his voice a rough rasp that sent shivers crawling down my spine, “I’m going to fuck you, Marco. I’m going to bend you over and make you scream, make you beg, make you forget your own fucking name. And then I’m going to watch as Meghan rides you, as she takes you deep and makes you hers. And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? You’re going to let us have you, use you, own you. Because you’re ours now. Mine and hers. And there’s no going back.”
My cock throbbed. In my peripheral vision, I caught the rapid rise and fall of Meghan’s chest, heard the hitch in her breathing as Wick’s words washed over us.
“Yes,” I whispered.
And then Wick’s mouth was on mine, hot and hard, his tongue thrusting past my lips to claim me, to conquer me, to brand me as his own. I moaned, my hands fisting in his hair, my hips rocking up to grind against his in a desperate bid for friction.
Beside us, Meghan made a soft, needy sound in the back of her throat. Her fingers joined Wick’s on my thigh, my hip, my chest. The heat of her body, the softness and the strength, the aching vulnerability and the quiet power. She was everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d never dared to dream I could have. And now she was here, touching me, kissing me, claiming me just as surely as Wick was.
By the time we stumbled out onto the curb in front of Meghan’s building, I was drunk on them, high on the sensation of their skin against mine, their breath in my lungs, their hearts beating in time with my own.
We barely made it into the elevator before Wick had me pinned against the wall, his thigh thrust between my legs, his hands rucking up my shirt to splay across my stomach. Meghan crowded in behind him, her breasts pressing against his back.
The doors dinged open, and we spilled out into the hallway. Meghan fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she tried to fit them into the lock. Wick grabbed them from her with an impatient growl, sliding the key home and shouldering the door open.
We stumbled towards the bedroom in a blur of grasping hands and seeking mouths. Clothes were shed along the way, tossed aside until we were all bare—skin against skin, heat against heat.
Wick took control when we reached the bedroom, shoving me roughly onto the mattress. I went eagerly, my throat tightening as he crawled over me, blanketing me with his solid weight. His mouth crashed down on mine in a bruising, possessive kiss that left me dizzy and breathless. Our tongues tangled in a filthy duel that had my cock straining against his hip.
I heard Meghan’s soft gasp from beside us. The mattress dipped as she joined the fray. Her hands were on me instantly, ghosting over my chest and abs in a feather-light caress that raised goosebumps on my skin. Lower and lower she trailed until finally— oh, god —her delicate hand wrapped around my aching length .
I whined into Wick’s mouth, my hips jerking helplessly into the tight circle of her fist. Her thumb swiped over the slick head, smearing pre-cum in a torturous tease. Wick broke the kiss with a ragged gasp. His eyes were dark and hungry as he watched Meghan work me over. “Fuck, that’s so goddamn hot.” His big hand joined Meghan’s on my shaft, the two of them jerking me together. “I want to see you suck him, Meg. I want to watch those pretty lips stretched wide around his cock.”
Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she savored his words. Then she was shifting down the bed, settling herself between my thighs. I propped up on my elbows, my eyes fixed on her flushed face as she wrapped those full, pouty lips around the swollen head of my dick.
“Jesus.” My head fell back against the pillows as the wet heat of her mouth engulfed me. It was like being dipped in molten silk. Her clever little tongue swirled and flicked along the underside as she took me deeper into her throat.
Wick buried his hand in her hair, guiding her movements as he watched with rapt, greedy attention. His other hand stroked down her spine to cup her perfect ass as she bobbed up and down on my cock. “That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Take him deep. Show me how much you love his big dick stretching that pretty mouth.”
Meghan whimpered around me. I was drowning in the dual sensations of her lips and his filthy words, her suction and his possession.
But I didn’t want to come—not yet, not until I was buried to the hilt in her tight, perfect cunt. Gritting my teeth, I tugged gently on her hair until she released me. Her lips were swollen and slick, her eyes glassy with need. “Meg, wait,” I panted, my voice little more than a broken rasp. “I need to be inside you. Please, baby, let me fuck you.”
She nodded jerkily, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. But before she could swing that lithe little body over mine, Wick’s hand clamped down on her hip in an iron grip, stilling her. “Not yet. I want to watch you ride him first. I want to see you take every thick inch of his cock while I fuck you from behind. Want you stretched wide around both of us.”
A breathy moan escaped Meghan’s parted lips. She scrambled onto my lap, straddling my hips and bracing her hands on my chest. I gripped her waist, holding her steady as she positioned herself over me, her slick pussy brushing against the head of my cock.
She sank down, taking me inside her inch by exquisite inch. We groaned in unison as she impaled herself on my length, her velvet walls clutching around me. It was all I could do not to thrust up into her, to bury myself inside her in one punishing stroke.
Wick moved behind her, smoothing his hands over the lush curve of her ass in a possessive caress. I felt him probe at her entrance, his thick fingers slick and insistent gliding along my cock inside her as he stretched her to take us both. Meghan gasped, her inner muscles clenching around me, her nails digging crescent moons into my shoulders.
He pressed the blunt head of his dick against her, pushing forward in a slow, inexorable glide. She cried out, her head falling back in a wordless keen of pleasure-pain as he filled her alongside me, stretching her to her limits.
“Fuckfuckfuck, it’s so fucking tight,” Wick gritted out, his hips flush against her ass. “Ah, I can feel every goddamn inch of you, Marco. So hot and hard inside her. ”
For a moment, we were utterly still, every nerve ending blazing as we adjusted to the overwhelming sensation of being joined so intimately. And then Wick started to move, his hips rolling in slow, deep thrusts that dragged his cock against mine inside Meghan’s perfect pussy.
She rocked between us, undulating her hips in a sensuous rhythm as she rode the push-pull of our thrusts. I met her movements, burying myself to the hilt with every upward grind as Wick drove into her from behind. She was making the most delicious little noises—breathy whimpers and mewling cries that spurred me on and drove me higher.
Wick’s deft fingers found her clit. He circled the swollen bud in fast, tight spirals, and Meghan jerked like she’d been struck by lightning. She let out a wail as her inner walls twitched madly around me.
“That’s it, baby.” Wick’s hips snapped in a ruthless staccato as he chased her release. “Let us feel you come on our cocks.”
Her body seized up as her orgasm crashed over her in a blinding wave. She released a raw, guttural sound of pure ecstasy, her nails scoring lines of fire down my chest.
It was too much—the rippling heat of her release, the sensation of Wick’s cock sliding against mine through her pussy. I let go with a choked groan, emptying myself in long, pulsing spurts as my own climax detonated. Wick followed a beat behind, his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure as he found his own release, mixing his come with mine until it was dripping out of her.
Meghan slumped forward, her head pillowed on my heaving chest as Wick draped himself over her back like a human blanket, trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her shoulder .
I cradled them both close, my hands roaming over sweat-slicked skin in a mindless caress as I struggled to catch my breath. My heart still thundered in my ears. Every nerve ending thrummed in the aftermath of that mind-shattering release.
I’d had sex before. Lots of sex, with lots of beautiful people. But this was something else. It was more intense than anything I’d ever experienced, like being cracked open and remade.
For several minutes, we just lay there, basking in the afterglow.
“That was...” I trailed off, searching for the right words and coming up empty. “Fuck, I don’t even know what that was. Are you okay, gattina?”
“I’m good. That was amazing.” Meghan pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “Mind-blowing. Life-changing.”
Wick let out a contented sigh. “All the above.”
Wick
Marco and I lay in bed, the crisp cotton sheets tangled around our sweat-slicked bodies. Meghan nestled in the valley between us, her blonde hair spilling across the pillow.
The room was full of the warm musk of sex and sleep. I traced Meghan’s bare shoulder with my fingertip, reveling in the silky texture of her skin. She let out a contented sigh but didn’t stir.
On her other side, Marco shifted and opened his eyes. My gaze traveled over the hard planes of his chest, lingering on the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath the sheet.
“So what were you doing at The Loft last night?” I asked, keeping my voice low so I didn’t wake Meg. “Following us?”
Marco rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself. I love it there. Love jazz.”
“Me too.” I fixed my gaze on a water stain in the plaster ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco’s expression soften. But then his brows shot up, eyes going comically wide. “What?” I asked.
“I just left Adam or Aaron or whatever his name was at the bar! I didn’t even text him or anything. Just got all swept up in your brute dominance. Sexy as hell, by the way.”
“What the fuck were you even doing there with him?”
Marco’s answering laugh was low and intimate. Sexy as hell , to use his words. “Um, trying to move on with my life with someone less closeted.”
“I am not closeted.”
“Aw, cucciolo, you literally barked ‘I’m not gay’ the first time I touched you.”
The unfamiliar endearment slipping off his tongue like melted chocolate. I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Well, I took it to mean you were very much in the closet.”
“You know what I mean, asshat.”
Marco’s grin widened. “It means ‘puppy.’”
“Do I look like a puppy to you?” I deadpanned, glaring at him. “I seem to recall you were the one whimpering when I shoved my cock down your throat the other night.”
“All bark and no bite.” His eyes danced with demonic glee as that grin morphed into something downright wicked that made my cock stir. “Though I would like to see how my cucciolo licks. ”
Meghan stirred and grumbled. “Stop flirting. Some of us are trying to sleep.”
Beneath the sheets, Marco’s hand found my thigh, his fingers trailing along the rapidly hardening length of my cock. “Come on, gattina. I think our puppy wants to play.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hips tilting instinctively into that teasing caress. “You ready to see how not closeted I am?” The challenge in my growled words made his eyes darken.
“Do your worst, stud.”