Chapter 35
Sutton
Even though we’ve hinted at and teased the idea of being intimate, I hadn’t fully prepared myself for it. But it has been a long time since I came, and my balls are aching. I don’t have the strength to finish myself or the strength to refuse the help.
“Alright, then. What are you gonna do?” I ask Zayd.
“What do you want me to do?” Zayd asks.
It’s been easy to give him orders, telling him what to do with Layla. I’d had time to think about it, and I know what I like to watch and what makes her feel good. I haven’t given any real thought to what I would want another male to do to me.
But I do know what feels good. Layla gives great head and hand jobs, but she has a feminine touch. Will a masculine touch, that’s not my own, feel as good?
“Do what you’re comfortable with, and I’ll let you know if it’s working or not,” I tell him.
My legs and cock are still drenched with Layla’s slick.
Layla lies perfectly still on top of me. Her chest barely moves, breathing so shallowly as she watches Zayd glide his hand up my thigh.
Zayd’s nostrils flare and contract as he focuses on my cock and as he curls his clawed fingers around it.
My concerns for how good it would feel to be handled by another male are immediately eased when Zayd applies the perfect amount of pressure and goes at the perfect speed as he starts pumping his fist up and down my length.
“Mmm…” I moan and thrust my hips into his grip, taking Layla for a little ride.
“Is it to your liking, sir?” Zayd asks, his voice husky. Almost labored.
“No notes. Keep going.” I writhe in my seat and wrap my arms around Layla to keep her secure, her tits in my hands.
“I want to come with you, Sutton,” Layla whispers, her head resting on my shoulder, her lips tickling my ear.
My hand floats down her stomach, pausing whenever Zayd’s hand finds my tip, exciting my most sensitive nerves.
Layla is so wet; my fingers dip easily inside her slit.
As soon as my fingers find her swollen nub, she moves with me, matching Zayd’s rhythm.
Layla throws her arms over our heads to grab the back of the seat. “Are you close? Because I’m close again.”
“He is close,” Zayd says. “His shaft swells, and his balls grow tight.”
“Oh, shit.” I hiss as I crest the edge of my release.
I hate to say it and risk hurting Layla’s feelings, but this is the best damn hand job I’ve ever gotten.
I think there’s something to be said for someone with the same equipment doing the job.
Zayd really knows his way around. He knows what amount of pressure to use and when.
How fast or slow to go? All without me having to tell him anything.
“Come for me, baby. Come with me now,” I tell Layla, and she lets go, humping my fingers as she comes, screaming and threatening to rip the headrest off the chair.
At the same time, Zayd milks my cock, painting Layla’s V and my stomach with my cum.
In the silence of the afterglow, while we all catch our breath, I wait for the awkwardness and regret to kick in, but it never does. All I can do is smile at Zayd and share my appreciation for a job well done. “Thank you, Zayd.”
“It is my pleasure. And it is good to have you back,” Zayd says.
“Yes. So good,” Layla echoes.
After she turns to kiss my cheek, she sits up, takes Zayd’s face in her hands, and pulls him in for a kiss. “You both are so good. I’m starving. Who else is hungry?”
Zayd and I both agree before she bounds out of the cockpit heading toward the galley.
“She’s right,” I tell Zayd when we’re alone. “You are good.”
“Thank you, Sutton.”
“Was it…” It may not be awkward or regretful, but I’m still nervous talking about it. “Was it good for you?” I ask him.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen an alpha blush before, but Zayd definitely turns a darker shade of purple.
“It was not much different than handling myself. Except it was less predictable and thus, more of an adventure, needing to act based on your reactions.”
“Layla seemed really into it,” I say.
Zayd nods. “Ever since the failed bond, her anxiety over being cast aside has eased.”
“Having you all to herself helped, I’m sure,” I say.
“It gave me a chance to show her what she means to me,” Zayd says.
“You never fail to step up in my absence, Zayd. I can’t tell you how good it is to know I can trust you with her, completely.”
“It has been an honor to prove it to you, Sutton. I look forward to proving myself to you again. Soon.” Again, Zayd’s skin darkens, his innuendo not lost on me.
I offer him a wicked grin. “I’ll see what test I can come up with.”
“Soup’s on,” Layla shouts down the corridor from the galley, and we leave, side by side, to join her.