17 - The Dare #4
Elena heard David’s sharp intake of breath from across the room, but she didn’t break away.
Instead, she pressed closer to Byron, her hands sliding up his chest to rest against his shoulders.
His mouth was demanding now, confident, and she found herself responding with an abandon she hadn’t felt in years.
Byron’s hands moved to the zipper at the back of her dress, pausing just long enough to catch her eye. The question was silent but clear.
Elena glanced toward David, who was gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His face was flushed, his breathing shallow, and when their eyes met, she saw nothing but raw desire and encouragement.
She nodded to Byron.
The zipper whispered down her spine, and the black dress pooled at her feet like liquid shadow.
Elena stood in her matching lingerie—delicate black lace with intricate floral patterns that traced along the curves of her breasts and hips.
She’d chosen this set specifically for tonight, the most expensive and elegant pieces she owned, purchased months ago but never worn for anyone but herself in the mirror.
Standing there under Byron’s gaze, she wondered if a man like him—who clearly had no shortage of experienced lovers—would appreciate the careful selection, the way the lace enhanced rather than concealed, the subtle sophistication of the design.
His sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes moved over her with genuine appreciation answered her question immediately. “Beautiful,” Byron murmured, his hands skimming along her sides. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Elena felt a flush of gratification spread through her chest. She’d chosen well.
More than that, she felt powerful under his admiration, desired in a way that made her skin feel electric.
The expensive lingerie had been worth every penny for this moment alone—the way it made her feel confident, feminine, worthy of such focused attention.
When Byron’s mouth found the curve of her neck, just above the delicate lace edge of her bra, she let out a soft moan that seemed to echo through the room.
David shifted in his chair, the movement drawing her attention.
He was staring at her with an expression she recognized—the same barely controlled intensity he got when she whispered dirty stories in his ear, or the few times she’d been bold enough to tell him exactly what she wanted him to do to her.
That particular combination of shock and overwhelming arousal that made him forget himself completely.
She realized he’d never seen this lingerie either—it had been her secret, waiting for the right moment.
The knowledge that he was watching, that he wanted to watch, sent another wave of arousal through her.
Byron guided her toward the bed, his touch reverent but certain. As Elena sank onto the soft mattress, she kept her eyes on David, drawing strength from his presence even as she surrendered to another man’s hands.
Byron’s hands moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the lace edges of her bra before sliding around to unclasp it. Elena felt the delicate fabric fall away, and instead of the self-consciousness she might have expected, she felt a surge of pride at Byron’s sharp intake of breath.
“Elena,” he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation.
She glanced toward David, who was gripping his beer bottle so tightly she was surprised it didn’t shatter.
His eyes were dark with want, completely focused on her.
In that moment, she understood something profound: David wasn’t just allowing this to happen—he was giving this to her.
This freedom, this attention, this chance to be desired and admired by someone new.
The realization filled her with a heady mixture of gratitude and power.
When Byron’s mouth found her breast, Elena arched into him with a soft gasp, but her eyes stayed on David.
She could see the effect her response had on him, the way his breathing quickened, the way he shifted restlessly in his chair.
Good. She wanted him to see exactly what he was giving her, exactly what he was choosing not to have right now.
Byron’s hands were skilled, patient, mapping her body with the attention of someone who understood that pleasure was an art form. He eased her back onto the bed, his mouth trailing lower, and Elena felt herself surrendering to sensations she’d almost forgotten she could feel.
“Oh God,” she breathed, her back arching as Byron’s tongue found exactly the right spot. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against her, and she heard David’s sharp exhale from across the room.
She looked at her husband through heavy-lidded eyes, seeing his face flushed with arousal and something else—pride. Pride in her. Pride in what she was becoming.
When the first wave of pleasure crashed over her, Elena cried out, her body trembling against Byron’s mouth. She kept her eyes open, kept them on David, letting him see exactly what his gift had given her.
As she came down from the high, breathing heavily, Elena felt a new confidence settling over her like armor. She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking down at Byron with eyes that held a different kind of hunger now.
“Your turn,” she said, her voice husky with satisfaction and new determination.
Something fundamental had shifted inside her—not just arousal, but understanding.
David had dared her to flirt, nothing more.
But when the moment came to stop this, to pull back, to return to safety, he hadn’t.
He’d taken that elevator to the fifteenth floor.
He’d accepted Byron’s invitation. He was sitting in that chair right now, watching her with complete fascination.
Her husband was discovering his own desires in real time, just as she was discovering hers. And that realization filled her with something deeper than gratitude—it was devotion. David was letting this happen, trusting her, trusting them both. The least she could do was make it extraordinary.
Elena rose to her knees on the bed, her movements fluid and purposeful in a way they hadn’t been all evening. Gone was the hesitant woman who had worried about her lingerie choices. In her place was someone who knew exactly what she wanted to do and how she was going to do it.
Elena reached for Byron’s shirt, her fingers working the buttons with steady hands that showed none of her earlier nervousness.
Each button revealed more of his chest—solid, masculine, real.
When she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, she let her hands explore with genuine appreciation, mapping the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his arms.
“You’re beautiful, too,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin and feeling the slight tremor that ran through him at her touch.
She was going to give Byron everything she had. Not because it was planned, but because David was choosing to let her.
Byron’s breath caught as she worked her way down his body, her mouth and hands mapping every inch with careful attention.
She kissed along his chest, letting her tongue trace the definition of his muscles, feeling the way his breathing changed as she grew bolder.
Her hands followed the path of her mouth, exploring the solid warmth of him with genuine fascination.
When she reached his belt, Elena’s movements became deliberately slow, methodical. She wanted to savor this—the power she felt in his sharp intake of breath, the way his abdominal muscles tensed as she took her time with each buckle, each button, each zipper.
“Elena,” Byron breathed, his voice strained with want.
She looked up at him through her lashes, a small smile playing at her lips. “Patience,” she murmured, echoing something he might have said to her earlier. The role reversal sent a thrill through her.
When she finally freed him from his remaining clothes, Elena took a moment to appreciate what she saw.
He was magnificent—thick, hard, already showing evidence of his arousal.
She wrapped her fingers around him experimentally, marveling at the contrast of silk over steel, the way he pulsed in her grip.
From the corner of her eye, she was aware of David leaning forward in his chair, completely captivated. The knowledge that her husband was watching her touch another man, seeing her explore and appreciate Byron’s body, sent another wave of heat through her.
Elena positioned herself lower on the bed, angling her body so that her face disappeared from David’s view as she pressed soft kisses to the base of Byron’s shaft.
She could hear her husband shift in his chair, could imagine his frustration at not being able to see exactly what she was doing. Good. Let him wonder.
She took her time there, using her tongue and lips to explore, feeling Byron’s thighs tense on either side of her. His breathing became ragged as she worked her way up slowly, deliberately, making him wait for what they both knew was coming.
“God, Elena,” Byron gasped, his hand finding her hair but not controlling, just touching, just connecting.
She could feel his restraint, the way he was holding back, and it only made her more determined. She wanted to break that control, wanted to give him something unforgettable.
When Elena finally worked her way up to take him fully into her mouth, she did so with complete dedication. She used everything—her lips, her tongue, varying pressure and rhythm as she learned what made his breath catch, what made his hips lift involuntarily from the bed.
She could hear David’s breathing from across the room, could sense his tension even without looking at him. The knowledge that he was watching whatever glimpses he could catch, that he was experiencing this through her responses and Byron’s reactions, only intensified her focus.