Page 38 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Juniper

The transformation in Tristan was intoxicating. Gone was the controlled CEO—in his place was a man driven by pure hunger, his hands roaming my body like he was trying to memorize every curve through touch alone. The cashmere of his creation felt like a second skin, making me powerful and desired in ways that went straight to my head.

"More,"

I gasped against his mouth, my fingers clawing at the cotton of his shirt. I needed skin, needed the heat of his skin against mine.

His shirt joined the growing pile of discarded clothing, revealing the kind of muscled chest that spoke of private gym sessions and careful maintenance. Dark hair dusted his pectorals, trailing down his flat stomach to where his cock was hard and leaking between us. The sight made my mouth water, made my pussy clench with want that bordered on pain.

"Look at you,"

Marco's voice cut through the haze of sensation, warm and approving.

"Fucking gorgeous. Both of you."

The encouragement sent heat racing through my veins. I loved that Marco was watching, loved that he wanted this, too. My husband's dark eyes tracked every movement as Tristan's mouth found my throat, teeth scraping against sensitive skin in ways that made me arch into his touch.

"That's it,"

Marco continued, his voice dropping to that rough timber that meant he was getting as turned on as I was.

"Show her what you've been thinking about. All those fantasies you've been hiding."

Tristan groaned against my neck, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine. His hands found the strategic openings in the dress he'd made, fingers sliding through gaps designed specifically for this purpose. The yarn parted like water under his touch, revealing my breasts.

"Fuck,"

he breathed, staring at my exposed flesh like he was seeing art in a museum.

"You're perfect. So goddamn perfect."

His mouth replaced his hands, lips closing around my nipple with a desperate hunger that made my knees weak. The contrast was maddening—soft cashmere against most of my skin, hot mouth on the peaks of my breasts, cool air everywhere the dress allowed access. He'd created something that would let him worship my body while keeping me wrapped up in his craft.

"Marco,"

I gasped as Tristan's teeth grazed my nipple, sending electricity straight to my clit.

My husband was beside me in an instant, his familiar warmth balancing Tristan's desperate intensity. When Marco's mouth found mine, when his tongue swept against my lips in the kind of kiss that spoke of years of practice, I thought I might come from sensation overload alone.

Two sets of hands, two mouths, two different kinds of hunger focused entirely on my pleasure. Tristan's touch was all desperate discovery, like he was afraid I might disappear if he stopped touching me. Marco's touch was familiar and confident. He knew exactly what would make me arch and moan and beg for more.

"Such a good girl for us,"

Marco murmured against my lips, sharing the flavor of my mouth with words that made Tristan moan against my breast.

"Wait until you taste her pussy."

The suggestion made Tristan's whole body shudder against mine. His hands slid lower, finding more strategic openings in the dress that allowed access to my hips, my thighs, the slick heat between my legs that was already soaking the cashmere.

Tristan dropped to his knees, his hands pushing the dress up around my waist. The movement revealed my pussy to his hungry gaze, and the sound he made was pure worship.

"Beautiful,"

he whispered, his breath hot against my inner thighs.

“So fucking tempting.”

The first touch of his tongue against my clit made me cry out into Marco's mouth, my hips bucking against Tristan's face with desperate need. He was skilled—more skilled than I'd expected from someone who projected such careful control. His tongue moved in patterns that suggested plenty of experience, lapping at my pussy like he was starved for my taste.

"That's it,"

Marco encouraged, his hands cupping my breasts through the openings in the dress while his mouth moved to my neck.

"Look how good you're making her feel. She's so wet for you already."

Tristan pressed in, his tongue diving deeper, exploring every fold and crease like he was mapping territory he planned to claim permanently. When he found that spot just inside that made me see stars, when he pressed against it with exactly the right pressure, I screamed his name loud enough to echo off the oak-paneled walls.

The combination was overwhelming—Marco's familiar touch on my breasts, his teeth scraping against my throat, while Tristan's tongue worked my pussy with the desperate intensity of a man finally allowed to indulge his deepest fantasies. The cashmere dress clung to my skin where I was sweating, the fabric somehow making every sensation more intense.

"I'm going to come,"

I gasped, my hands fisting in Tristan's hair as pressure built low in my belly.

"Please don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

Tristan's response was to seal his lips around my clit and suck with exactly the pressure I needed while his tongue continued its relentless assault. Marco's mouth found my nipple through the dress opening, biting gently while his hands roamed over every inch of skin the garment revealed.

My orgasm hit like a freight train, pleasure tearing through my nervous system with enough force to make my vision white out at the edges. I screamed both their names as I came, my body convulsing against Tristan's mouth while Marco held me steady against the wall. Wave after wave of sensation crashed over me, leaving me shaking and gasping and completely wrecked.

Tristan didn't stop until the last aftershock faded, his tongue gentle now as he cleaned every drop of my release. When he finally pulled away, his face was glazed with my juices, his green eyes wild with satisfaction and renewed hunger.

"Perfect,"

he said, his voice wrecked.

"You taste perfect."

Strong arms lifted me from the wall, Marco and Tristan working together to carry me the few steps to the massive four-poster bed that dominated the room. My legs felt like water, aftershocks still rippling through my core as they laid me back against pillows that smelled of lavender. The cashmere dress now clung to my sweat-dampened skin and had shifted to reveal even more of my body.

Tristan loomed over me, his cock jutting thick and proud from his hips, pre-cum glistening at the tip in a way that made my mouth water. But as Marco began stripping off his own clothes with efficient movements, something shifted in Tristan's expression. The wild hunger flickered, replaced by a flash of his old careful control.

"I don't have—"

he started, then stopped, color flooding his sharp cheekbones.

"I didn't bring protection. Condoms."

The practical concern hit like cold water, threatening to shatter the heated bubble we'd created. But behind it was concern and care for me that made me smile.

"I need your cock inside me,"

I said, my voice rough with desperation.

"Right fucking now."

Marco's laugh was warm and knowing as he kicked off his jeans, revealing the familiar length of his erection that I'd worshipped countless times.

"When's the last time you were tested?"

he asked Tristan, his tone practical but not judgmental.

"Three months ago,"

Tristan replied, his breathing shallow as I wrapped my hand around his shaft, stroking the impressive length with firm pressure.

"Clean bill of health. I'm very careful about using protection."

"Same,"

Marco interrupted with a grin.

"And Juni's on the shot, so pregnancy isn't a concern. We haven't been with anyone else since we met. Not interested in anyone else."

Something flickered in Tristan's green eyes: surprise, or confusion.

"But you both seem so... open. To this kind of arrangement."

Marco's expression softened as he climbed onto the bed beside us, his hand finding my hip possessively.

"We've talked about it. Fantasized about finding the right person to share this with. But it had to be someone special. Someone worth the risk."

"We've been waiting,"

I added, my thumb sweeping across the head of Tristan's cock to collect the pre-cum that was steadily leaking from him. "For you."

The words hit him like a physical blow. I watched his pupils dilate, watched something primal and possessive take over his features as the full meaning sank in. We hadn't been playing games or looking for casual fun. We'd been waiting for him specifically, choosing him out of all the possibilities.

"Fuck,"

he breathed, as his control snapped.

He hauled me against him with strength that made me gasp, positioning himself between my thighs with movements that were pure animal instinct. When he thrust inside in one smooth motion, when his massively thick shaft filled me so until I saw stars.

He was thicker than Marco, though not quite as long, stretching me in ways that bordered on too much but was absolutely perfect. The cashmere dress bunched around my waist as he seated himself fully inside me, his face a mask of desperate concentration as he fought for control.

"Holy shit,"

I gasped, my nails raking down his chest as I adjusted to his size, grinding against his hips.

“You feel so good.”

The praise broke something loose in him. His hips began moving with wild abandon, fucking me with the desperate intensity of a man finally allowed to claim what he'd been dreaming about. Each thrust hit spots inside me that made my vision blur, made my toes curl against the ancient bedding.

"Can't believe this is real,"

he panted against my throat, his voice destroyed by lust.

"Can't believe you're letting me, that you want me—"

"We want you,"

Marco corrected, his hand tangling in my hair as he watched Tristan claim me with obvious appreciation.

"Both of us. Look how perfect you two are together."

The encouragement made Tristan fuck me harder, driving deep enough to make me sob with pleasure. But I could see Marco's own need in the rigid line of his erection, could tell he was fighting his own desperate hunger.

"Move me,"

I gasped, my hands finding both of them.

"I want both of you. Need both of you."

They positioned me on hands and knees, the movement making Tristan's cock slip free with a wet sound that was positively pornographic. The dress had shifted again, revealing my ass and pussy to their hungry gazes while still clinging to strategic places.

But before Tristan could push back inside, I grabbed Marco's hips and guided him toward my mouth. My husband's familiar taste hit my tongue as I sucked him deep, hollowing my cheeks the way I knew drove him wild.

"Fuck, baby."

Marco’s hands tangling in my curls.

"Your mouth is so good. Show Tristan how talented you are."

Tristan's response was to slide back into my pussy from behind, his thickness stretching me deliciously as I worked Marco's cock with lips and tongue. The position was perfect—filled completely, every nerve ending firing as the men found their rhythm.

They took turns using my body with the kind of desperate intensity that spoke of fantasies finally made real. When Marco left my mouth to kiss me deeply, Tristan's hands gripped my hips and thrust into me with wild abandon. When Tristan needed a moment to regain control, Marco fed his cock back into my eager mouth while fingers found my clit.

The cashmere dress was stretched and twisted around my body in ways that emphasized my submission to their combined hunger. I felt like a goddess being worshipped by devoted followers, like art being appreciated by the most discerning collectors.

"I'm going to come,"

Tristan warned, his voice breaking as his rhythm became erratic.

"Can't hold back anymore."

"Fill her up,"

Marco encouraged, his own breathing ragged as I worked his shaft with renewed desperation.

"Give her what she needs."

Tristan's orgasm triggered my own, pleasure crashing through my nervous system as he pumped hot come deep inside my pussy. The sensation of being claimed, of his cum marking me from the inside, sent me over the edge with enough force to make my arms give out.

Marco followed moments later, his come flooding my mouth. I swallowed everything he offered, licking up every last drop.

We collapsed together on the ancient bed, sweaty and satisfied and breathing hard.

"Worth the wait,"

I managed to say, earning exhausted laughter from both of them.

“But I think I broke your dress.”

“It served its purpose,”

Tristan murmured, cupping my jaw and kissing me tenderly.

He gently removed the knit piece, making sure it didn’t pull too tightly or mark my skin.

When I was naked, they tugged me between them, warm bodies creating a cocoon of satisfaction and possibility. Outside, the rain was back, pattering against the windows, ensuring we'd have more time to explore whatever this was becoming.

Perfect.