Chapter Two
“Party of two, or party of three?”
Rhett and I break apart as Sabine’s throaty laugh floats across the small apartment, slicing through the growing fog of tension with all of the subtlety of a hand grenade.I groan inwardly when the fingers that were just wrapped around my tie drop, brushing against my abdomen.
But then I turn and catch sight of her .
She’s wearing nothing but a soft, oversized men’s t-shirt, leaving her long legs and feet bare. I can also see a hint of her elaborate back tattoo peeking over one shoulder, right where the stretched collar has slipped down her arm. Her freshly washed hair is pushed back and away from her face, showing off the jagged scar along her temple in a style that’s as equally effortless and full of attitude as she is.
She saunters toward where we’re standing in the tiny kitchenette, still close but no longer toe-to-toe. Her attention swings back and forth between us as she closes the distance, and it’s almost heady, having her focus laced as it is with muted excitement.
I straighten, nervous anticipation pooling in my gut. There’s no trace of that earlier hesitance anywhere on her face, almost as if our shocking conversation never took place at all.
This is the Librarian I'm more familiar with—all sass, all pure confidence.
“Don’t mind me, I’ll just...” she murmurs as she shimmies past before slinging herself up and onto the counter directly beside us. There’s a quick tease of black boyshorts when the shirt she’s wearing rides up. “You won’t even know I’m here,” she finishes with another serving of trademark Winters sauce.
Entirely unruffled by her interruption, Rhett slinks toward Sabine so that he can slot his hips directly between her knees. A large hand lands on each side of her tattooed thighs, caging her in. “I don’t think anyone’s forgetting you’re here, babygirl,” he purrs.
Her legs squeeze shut at the sound of his husky voice, and my jaw ticks reflexively.
He’s not wrong though.
But just as they’re drawing closer, gray eyes flick up over his shoulder as if instinctively seeking out my reaction—and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said that slight falter I saw in her expression looked almost...sheepish.
Regardless, there's no ignoring the way the atmosphere in the small room has thickened with Rhett's sultry words.
It's expectant —and whatever it is that’s been slowly awakening between the three of us expands even further—breathing in and out like it's a living thing.
Without warning, Rhett lifts a single hand, gripping the collar of his Henley and pulling it off in a single, smooth motion. He drops the shirt to the floor without a word, and my already erratic heartbeat skips once again as I’m greeted by the broad, inked muscles of his back, stretching and contracting with each movement.
Only this time, it’s not skipping beneath the press of anger.
No, not …anger.
This time, it’s beneath the choking surge of molten lust. Entwined with a healthy dose of dominance.
A need to claw back some semblance of control from this utter fucking shitshow of a day.
To punish Orbison for his over-familiarity with the object of my obsession.
To punish her for the hold she has over me.
And so help me— to punish us all for my lack of restraint.
Each thought comes with a renewed rush of blood to the groin; my intent no doubt crystal clear from the scorching look I now run down her torso, snagging on where their pelvises press lightly together.
Rather than stopping to overthink it, I’m stepping right up behind my best friend. Bracing myself against the counter with one hand, I then place the other directly between his naked shoulder blades. My palm glides over each of the twitching muscles there before finally settling against the back of his neck.
Rhett’s skin is searing hot against mine, and I can smell the slight musk of his afternoon workout. Sabine’s sandalwood scent, fresh from the shower, is stronger still, and it hangs around us all like a haze. I feel the moment a single breath shudders out of the man beneath my grip, his head gently dropping forward.
No resistance, just a deep knowing of exactly what it is I need right now. Easily handing me the reins.
One down. One to go.
Silently, I press downwards.
With a soft groan, Rhett lowers to his knees, hands automatically moving from the counter’s edge to Sabine’s bare legs as he goes. His palms run up and over the scarred skin there, before slipping beneath the shirt’s hem to seek out the waistband of her underwear.
Meanwhile, my hand stays firmly in place at the back of my Second’s neck. I don’t dare reach out and touch her; the handle on my control is tenuous at best.
But my focus? All on her. Mesmerized by the rise and fall of her breasts. The flexing of her thighs. On that mocking glimpse of black material.
Rhett’s fingers pause. Obediently awaiting my next instruction.
“Lift,” I all but bark.
There’s a split-second hesitation before I see the resolve gathering behind her eyes. That tells me she knows she’s venturing into unfamiliar territory, and now she’s feeling defensive. Desperate to test the limits of this new dynamic. To push back against the role I'm assigning her for this very unprecedented encounter of ours.
“What—” she starts, but I’m having exactly none of it tonight. She might be familiar with all of Orbison’s play styles, but she’s in my dominion now.
I lean down, dropping my chin so we’re directly at eye level with one another. So there's no way she can miss my words. Or my intentions for her.
“For just once in your fucking life, Sabine, I want you to shut that bratty mouth of yours long enough to follow a goddamn directive,” I grit out, my voice harsh, but still heavily laced with months of undisguised need. “Now, wrap those thighs around Orbison’s ears, and the only two words I want passing your lips are: ‘ yes ’ and ‘ sir ’.”
Sabine’s eyes flare wide with my words, and I’m practically scorched by the blatant heat I see reflected back at me. I watch greedily as her lids lower, her lips roll inward, and her legs stretch out on either side of Rhett’s head.
So, despite having the most stubborn, independent streak of anyone I’ve ever known, it seems Ms. Sabine Winters does have it in her to submit, after all.
“Lift,” I order again, and this time her hips tilt up without so much as a blink. Rhett snags her panties and drags them down her long legs, raising her ankles above his head as he goes. She helps him kick them off before they join his discarded shirt.
Freed of her underwear, Sabine moves to drop her calves back to rest on each of Rhett’s broad shoulders. The motion causes the huge tee she’s wearing to pool at her hips.
“Shirt, too,” I hiss, and a heartbeat later it joins the rest of the pile on the kitchen floor.
My teeth sink sharply into my bottom lip, my brain struggling to reconcile its first glimpse of Sabine's fully naked form. Her pale chest rises and falls, focus flitting between the tousled head hovering between her thighs—and the fiery gaze now burning a slow trail between those perky, pierced tits and that gorgeous, glistening pussy of hers.
The source of all my most tortured fantasies.
I can tell she’s simply dying to open her mouth and say something. Anything. No doubt she’s used to calling the shots in bed. Or at least, she’s used to always being given the choice .
It’s a brave new world, princess.
“Lips sealed, and eyes on mine.”
Her dusky eyes glimmer and her throat bobs as my command settles over her skin. Again, she only gives me a whisper of emotion, but I read it for the subtle flash of relief that it is. Slowly realizing that when she’s with me, the burden of decision-making can be lifted, if only for these few stolen moments.
“Well done. Your reward for listening will be Orbison’s mouth on your pretty little pussy.”
Another breath heaves out of Sabine’s lungs, and Rhett releases his own heady groan in anticipation. The combination of the two has both my chest and groin tightening to the point of pain.
I barely need to signal my assent, as no sooner do my fingers press into the sides of my Enforcer’s neck, than he’s burying his nose against her clit and swiping deep with his tongue.
One of Sabine's hands shoots out to grasp a handful of dirty blond locks, and I find myself paralyzed again, riveted by the scene before me. I can hear the wet glide and contact of their skin. Smell the tangy fragrance of her arousal.
“I bet she tastes fucking decadent,” I coax.
As Rhett’s lips continue to weave their sensual dance, I let my palm drift north with the natural movements of his head. My fingers drag gently over his scalp before sliding firmly over Sabine’s—connecting where they’re still buried in his hair. Her breath hitches as she watches our grips interlocking before realizing her mistake and her eyes fly back to my face.
I could punish her, but there’ll be a better time to explore that particular transgression another day.
When we’re in a proper bed and I have access to my collection.
So I tighten my hold on Rhett's locks instead, purring down at him, “That’s it, perfect, darling. Enjoy that sweet cunt, and then I’ll have you taste us both together.”
I'm rewarded with a desperate noise from deep within his throat—a reaction to my praise, the spur-of-the-moment pet name, or perhaps a combination of both—before his languid oral ministrations visibly speed up.
Sabine’s head drops back in response, and I can see her composure wavering, her eyes struggling to maintain their focus on me. She’s definitely close.
But her lips stay pressed together.
Let’s see if she remembers her instructions.
“Such an obedient girl for us, but I think it’s time. Are you ready?”
Without skipping a beat, she locks me down with those gray eyes and breathes the magic words. “Yes, sir .”
Holy. Fuck.
The next swallow I take feels like sandpaper all over again, and I squeeze her fingers, still laced with mine. “You can let go,” I urge, my voice as strained as the front of these fucking infernal pants. “ Now. ”
Fortunately, it’s only mere seconds before I witness her peak, tattooed thighs audibly snapping close around Orbison’s head the moment she tips over. Her moan is long and low and raspy and, quite honestly, the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I only wish that she'd been making that noise while she was riding my cock instead of my best friend’s tongue.
From the corner of my eye, Rhett rises gracefully to his feet, one hand gripping the bulge in his sweatpants. As he turns to lean against the counter beside Sabine, the change in position leaves me with an unrestricted, full frontal view of her pussy—swollen and pink and slick.
Then I’m sucking in a single breath before letting out a snarled, “ Fuck it ,” and it’s the last deliberate action I make.
The beast takes full fucking advantage of my vulnerability and snaps its leash completely.
Foolish.
I was so busy monitoring her fall that I'd failed to clock how dangerously close I was to a full-core meltdown. I should have been tripping all sorts of emergency shutdown protocols before letting myself get to this point.
Instead, the edges of my vision darken and my hands seize Sabine by the waist, jerking her roughly toward me. I don’t remember unbuckling my belt, nor unzipping my trousers, but between one heartbeat and the next, I’m plunging inside her.
Vaguely, I feel shapely nails clawing at the back of my shirt.
Narrow hips cinching around mine.
I hear the harsh, rhythmic breaths echoing between us and I smell her shampoo where my nose is buried against her hair.
I think I might hear Rhett’s low, hoarse words of encouragement, but they’re lost as soon as they reach my ears. Because despite all the intimacies of this moment, the most primal parts of my hindbrain have firmly taken over, and my entire consciousness has zeroed in on that one, perfect, singular connection between us.
I’m inside her.
Hot, tight.
And mine.
There’s no gentle warning for what comes next. Our joint orgasms are as sudden and violent and all-consuming as my obsession. My vision blacks out completely, my only concern at that moment being the very real need to pump her cunt full of my seed.
And so the madness grows.
When I finally come back to myself, it’s to the sound of jagged panting. And then to the image of Sabine’s elfin face—eyes wide, pupils blown, high cheekbones tinged rosy pink.
She’s a picture of pure satiation, and it stirs a pleased rumble in my chest.
Now I’m staring at her mouth, like it’s begging me to suck on that plump upper lip. I’m desperate to tease my tongue along the piercing I know I’ll find hiding behind it. I definitely should’ve kissed her long before we made it to this point, but they do say there’s no time like the present.
I lean in.
A gravelly “ fuck, ” cuts in from our immediate left.
Annoyed by the sudden interruption, I turn my head to find Rhett, breathing like he’s the one who just had a blackout fuck. My eyes drop to find his sweats shoved down, a cum-covered fist still wrapped around his dick, and slick fingers toying with the bars of his ladder. His hot gaze is locked to where I’m still buried inside Sabine.
Kiss forgotten, all three of us watch, fixated, as I make a slow, dramatic show of withdrawing my cock. Sabine’s pussy—just as stubborn as the girl herself—never stops fighting to relinquish its stranglehold. It’s not until the head forcibly slips free that our combined fluids can flow out.
I think I stop breathing altogether when Rhett leans over, scoops up the mess with two thick fingers, and then pushes the lot back inside. “Waste not, want not, baby,” he teases her before turning his attention to me.
Our eyes lock, and my hand shoots out to grab his bicep, my grip rough. My head, at this point, is still pure chaos, and speech feels cumbersome.
“ Taste us ,” are the only two words my tongue is able to form, but I still manage somehow to lace them with enough dominance that Rhett and Sabine both moan in unison.
Just as smoothly as he did before, Rhett kneels down between us. His fists—one still covered in cum—rest on his massive thighs, his hair an absolute mess from our grasping fingers. I expect his focus to pull back to our girl like a magnet, but as I step closer, his eyes remain trained on my still very hard dick. He watches as my thumb and index finger form a tight ring around the base of my shaft before sliding along its length, deliberately gathering mine and Sabine’s combined releases as I go. As soon as I finish coating the head, I step forward and press it against Rhett’s waiting lips.
And with another deep groan that Sabine and I both echo—Rhett proceeds to make an absolute meal of my basted cock.
His talented tongue laves and swirls and caresses, replacing our mixed fluids with nothing but his own saliva, and when he deems the job done, he slides off my length with an audible pop and a salacious grin.
Fuck.
My mouth hangs open.
I should really tell him how fucking amazing that was, how well he did for me.
How nothing between us can or will ever be the same.
But I’m still stuck in my post-coital fog, still at a complete and utter loss for words.
It’s Sabine, of course, who recovers first and breaks our heated stare-off.
“Holy fucking bucket list , Batman . ”