Page 74 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Hamish

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the spot where Makai had been standing before he disappeared below deck.

The air between us felt thick with unspoken possibilities, dangerous and thrilling all at once. I’d come to this island to prove to my wife that I could be spontaneous, but I never imagined spontaneity would lead us here—stranded on a sailboat with my alluring wife and a man who made my blood run hot and made me feel things I’d been denying for over a decade.

“Do you think he’s angry with us?”

Imogen’s voice was low, uncertain. Her cheeks remained flushed, her eyes bright with something I recognized but had never seen directed at anyone but me.

I shifted, my arousal painfully obvious in the thin fabric of my shorts.

“I don’t think angry is the right word.”

His cock had been hard against my thigh when he’d bumped into me.

“The way he looked at you...”

She trailed off, biting her lower lip.

Guilt twisted in my gut, sharp and insistent. I’d spent the afternoon watching Makai’s hands on the ropes, imagining them on my body, while simultaneously fantasizing about pressing Imogen against the cabin wall, her legs wrapped around my waist. The shame of wanting them both should have been overwhelming, but instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff—terrifying and exhilarating.

“The way he looked at both of us,”

I corrected, studying my wife’s face.

“Before he knew you were my wife, he told me he thought you were sexy as hell.”

The wind had loosened strands of her honey-blonde hair from its ponytail, framing her face in a way that made her look younger, Wilder.

“That can’t be why he parks there, can it?”

she asked.

“It is. He said he wants a chance to talk to you. And…more.”

“More?”

I bit my lip, wondering if she really wanted to know.

“Hamish, just tell me. Can’t be worse than him catching me reading threesome erotica.”

I blinked at my wife.

“That’s what you’ve been reading? Bloody hell, Imogen.”

She shrugged, her cheeks pink.

“It was research.”

Grabbing her chin, I kissed her hard, wild need coursing through me. She tangled her hands into my hair, pressing in close as she devoured my mouth like a woman starved. I lifted my lips, searching her face for a moment, then sighed.

“Before he knew you were my wife, he told me he wanted to have sex with you. While your husband watched. And I… wasn’t opposed to that idea.”

“Fuck,”

she whispered, her gaze dropping to my lips, then lower.

“Perhaps we should check on him? Make sure he’s alright?”

“Yes,”

I said.

“We should.”

I took her hand, our fingers intertwining with familiar ease, and led her toward the companionway. The steps creaked beneath our weight as we descended into the dim cabin, my eyes adjusting slowly to the low light. The space was compact but efficiently designed, with a small galley to at the bottom of the companionway and a banquet style table behind it. Further down, I could see a small cabin, with a berth inside.

Makai stood near the cabin, with his back against the bulkhead, board shorts pushed down his thighs, his cock gripped in his fist. He was jerking off. The realization hit me like a physical blow. His cock was as magnificent as his body; thick and long, the head flushed dark against his tanned skin. His eyes were closed, lips parted, lost in whatever fantasy had driven him below deck.

A fantasy of us.I froze, instantly hard, my cock straining against my shorts. I should have been embarrassed, should have pulled Imogen back up the stairs to give him privacy. Instead, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but stare at the slow, deliberate strokes of his hand.

I turned to shield Imogen from the sight, to apologize for bringing her into this situation. But Imogen wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on Makai, her chest rising and falling rapidly, pupils dilated with unmistakable desire. The same hunger I felt reflected in her gaze, transforming her from my proper British wife into someone I barely recognized—someone untamed.

“Fuck,”

I whispered, the word escaping before I could catch it.

Makai’s eyes flew open, his hand stilling but not releasing his cock. For a moment, we all remained frozen in a tableau of suspended desire—Makai caught in the act, Imogen and I caught watching.

“I wonder what he tastes like.”

I didn’t know which shocked me more: the thought itself or the fact that I’d said it aloud.

Imogen turned to me, her eyes wide with surprise that melted into something darker, more primal. Her hand squeezed mine.

“Might as well find out. I mean, if it’s okay with Makai.”

Makai’s sharp intake of breath drew our attention back to him. His eyes were open now, burning with an intensity that made my knees weak.

“I don’t fuck clients.”

Then he was moving toward us, closing the distance in two quick strides. His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back with enough force to make me gasp.

“I don’t usually fuck clients,”

he repeated, his breath hot against my lips.

“But I stopped thinking of you as clients the moment I saw you checking out my ass, Hamish.”

His mouth crashed into mine, hard and demanding. The kiss was nothing like the gentle ones I shared with Imogen. It was possession, domination, pure male aggression. I opened for him immediately, my hands gripping his waist to steady myself as his tongue swept into my mouth, tasting of wine and salt and desire. I ground my hips against his, desperate to press into the hard bulge of his erection.

He pulled back abruptly, leaving me breathless, then turned to Imogen. The look that passed between them contained a silent question and answer, and he grinned and tipped his lips to hers in a gentle, searching kiss. She moaned softly and pressed into it.

In an instant, he was ravaging her mouth with his, his large hand cradling her face with surprising tenderness. I should have felt jealous watching another man kiss my wife, but instead, my cock hardened further, aching with need. They looked sexy as hell together.

When he released her, Imogen looked dazed, her lips swollen and red. Makai’s attention returned to me, his eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in my shorts. He bit his lower lip, grinning wickedly.

“We gonna fuck?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

Smooth, Hamish, real smooth.

Imogen bit her bottom lip, running a finger down his chest.

“We are stuck here all night without much to do.”

She reached for the button on my shorts, with a quick glance to check in. I nodded, giving her permission, and she beamed at me as she shoved my shorts and boxers down past my hips, letting the fabric pool around my ankles. My cock sprang free, painfully hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

“Look at you,”

Makai said, his voice rough with approval.

“Fucking gorgeous. No wonder she tolerates your weird opinions about tea brands.”

“Yorkshire Gold isn’t we—”

My complaint was cut short by a moan as his hand wrapped around my cock, the calluses on his palm creating a delicious sensation that made me bite back a moan. He pressed closer, aligning our bodies so he could grip both our cocks together in his large hand. The feeling of his hot, hard length against mine sent shockwaves of pleasure up my spine.

“You want to taste me?”

he asked, giving us both a slow stroke that made my vision blur.

“I bet you do. Bet you want to lick up all this pre-cum.”

Imogen gasped, and I was sure the sound was pure need rather than shock. When I glanced at her, her eyes were locked on our cocks, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. The sight of my refined, elegant wife staring hungrily at another man’s cock broke something loose inside me, the last threads of propriety snapping like rotted rope.

She reached out, tracing her soft fingers over us, looking for all the world like the sight of us pressed together had put her into a lust-induced trance.

“I want everything. All of it. Both of you,”

I breathed.

He lifted his hand away from us, letting her explore more, and before I could second-guess myself, I dropped to my knees on the cabin floor, my face level with Makai’s huge cock.

“Want a taste of him?”

Imogen wrapped her fingers around his shaft and held him out like an offering. The scent of him—sweat and salt and arousal—hit me like a physical force, making my mouth water. I shivered, the realization that I really, truly wanted this making my heart pound.

Slowly, I leaned forward, letting my tongue slip out as Imogen guided him towards my mouth. I met Makai’s eyes as I ran my tongue over his velvety skin, scooping up a bead of pre-cum from his slit.

“Mm, kiss my cock, sweetheart, just like that,”

he murmured.A groan escaped me at the first taste of another man’s cock, and I lunged forward, greedily lapping up more. As I kissed my way up his length, learning the shape of him with my lips and tongue, I watched Makai kissing my wife, his hand slipping over her stomach and into her shorts.

He was bigger than me, thicker, the skin darker and veins more prominent, and I wanted more than anything to watch Imogen’s reaction to being fucked by him. I dragged my tongue along the underside, then swirled it around his head, exploring and learning him.

“Fuck,”

Makai hissed above me, one hand tangling in my hair, not pushing, just holding.

I glanced up at the long plane of his abdomen, past the defined muscles of his chest, and froze at the sight that met me. My wife was making little whimpering sounds against his mouth, her fingers clutching at his shoulders like she might collapse without his support as he shoved his hand deeper into her shorts, working her pussy under the fabric.

Rather than jealousy, I felt a surge of arousal so intense I had to squeeze the base of my cock to keep from coming. I’d never seen Imogen like this. Makai broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, and her eyes found mine over his shoulder. There was a question in them, concern beneath the desire, checking that I was still okay with what was happening.

I answered by taking the head of Makai’s cock into my mouth, maintaining eye contact with him as I swirled my tongue around the sensitive glans.

Makai’s hands slid up to the front of Imogen’s blouse, deftly undoing buttons until he could push the fabric off her shoulders. Her simple white bra followed, and then her shorts and panties.

Soon, his mouth was on her breasts, teasing one pink nipple while his fingers slipped between her legs to tease at her pussy. The sound she made—a soft, broken moan I’d never heard from her before—sent fire racing through my veins.

“Oh god,”

she gasped, her head falling back as Makai sucked harder at her breast.

“Hamish... Makai.”

I hummed around Makai’s cock in response, taking him deeper, wanting her to see how much I was enjoying this. Whatever guilt might have lingered evaporated as I watched her writhe for him. This wasn’t cheating. We were sharing this experience. If anything, I felt closer to Imogen now than I had in years, connected by our secret, forbidden lust.

With newfound confidence, I tried my best to take Makai deeper, but he was so big, it was tough to fit him all in my mouth.

“Jesus Christ,”

Makai groaned, his hips jolting forward, cock slamming into the back of my throat.

“Where did you learn to—fuck!”

I pulled back, letting his cock slip from my lips with an obscene pop.

“You’re my first. Just trying to think of what feels good to me.”

“Show me,”

she whispered, and the raw desire in her voice made my cock throb painfully.

I wrapped my hand around the base of Makai’s cock, angling it for better access, then took him in my mouth again, sucking him as deep as I could, rolling my tongue around his length, the way Imogen sometimes did with mine. My jaw started to get sore, and I worked through the pain, wondering if other people’s jaws were in better shape than mine.

He tasted really good, felt really good—warm and pulsing and heavy between my lips. I didn’t want to give it up, no matter how much it hurt.

“Holy fuck,”

Makai gasped, his hand tightening in my hair.

“Hamish, fuck, I’m going to—”

I pulled back immediately, denying him because I had a plan for his cum. His cock pulsed, angry and red, so close to the edge. I sat back on my heels, looking up at them both. Makai with his chest heaving, face contorted with frustrated pleasure, his fingers buried inside my wife, and Imogen with her breasts bare, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes dark with want.

“Not yet,”

I said, surprising myself with the authority in my voice.

“I want to see you fuck my wife first.”

Makai’s eyes narrowed, then a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.

“So proper Hamish has a filthy mind,”

he said, turning to Imogen.

“What do you think, Imogen? Should I make you come before your husband gets to?”