Page 40 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

“Get ready, Avery,” he warns. Her hand falls to her stomach and her eyes roll closed, and I slow my hips for a moment to enjoy the sight of Avery being happily bred. “Take my baby, Avery. Let me come so deep I get you pregnant, please baby.”

Her knees rear back another inch as she grinds down on Sutton, and that’s when the final thread snaps. “Avery, I’m going to come,” I tell her, because her fantasy was a spit roast, she never said where she wants me to come.

She blinks up at me. “In my mouth, please.”

You don’t have to ask me twice. I plunge back inside her warm little mouth and fuck it, coming in violent waves, the entire bed shaking as she sucks out and swallows up my cum.

I don’t even remember saying goodnight, but I fall asleep right after, and sleep better than I ever have before.

After swimming in the ocean, the three of us enjoy breakfast on the beach, and walk into town again, picking up a few gifts for the office back home.

We visit an art gallery, and stop in at a small restaurant for lunch, sharing some of our favorite local dishes.

Avery, outfitted in a strapless, floor length sundress, catches looks and turns heads wherever we go but especially today, with her white thong visible through the sheer linen dress.

She’s been a sight all week, but today, she has me craving intimacy.

They must be feeling the same way, because when we get back to the room, she orders everyone in bed.

Sutton and I take turns making love to her.

She rolls to him, and they make love, his wedding band glistening in the moon light against her back as he tenderly fucks her. She rolls toward me, leaving him there to wait, then allows me inside of her, and I hold her close to my chest on our sides as I fuck her.

She rolls between the two of us, and when Sutton has made her come twice, he holds her tight when he orgasms, promising her babies, so many babies.

And when she rolls to me, and I slide inside of her, finding her sticky and wet already, I come easily, with her soft moans feathering over me like ice on a sunburn.

Sutton brings her a towel, and I bring us water, and after everyone is cleaned up and hydrated, we pass out together, Sutton’s thigh thrown over Avery’s right leg, mine thrown over her left.

Avery and I sleep nude, and Sutt chooses sleep pants, and everything about what we are or aren’t wearing and the way we are laying is a metaphor for who we are.

That’s the last thing on my mind as I watch the bamboo ceiling fan tug lazy circles above me, and I knock out.

Topless, Avery sits in the sand, letting the cool waves rush over her legs and belly. She looks fucking beautiful. Sutton and I are sitting back ten feet, in chairs, feet in the water, enjoying our last beers of the vacation.

I reach into my pocket and tap the button on the remote, sending a shockwave of pleasure into the plug Avery’s wearing.

Yet another toy we grabbed in the shop the other day, she’s already asked if she can wear it on the flight home.

When she asked, I was afraid Sutton would say no, that it’s going too far.

I keep waiting for that—for the kink to reach him in a place he isn’t ready, for him to freak out and try and call it all off. Or maybe not try but actually call it off.

But he’s been unbelievably open and accepting, and it’s now, as I’m hitting level three on the remote, Avery bouncing on her butt in the sand in reaction, I have to ask.

Sunglasses shading our eyes, I turn his way. “Can I ask you something?”

His lips twitch. “Sure.”

I push my sunglasses up, into my hair, and narrow my eyes. “Why do you look like you want to laugh?”

Sutt, wearing a v-neck white t-shirt, lifts a shoulder and lets it fall, kicking his foot a little when the tide rushes in. Wind drops pieces of tawny hair over his eyes. He shoves it back. “I was just thinking, you already sleep with my wife, what more could you ask?”

We both laugh, and I watch him carefully as I do, making sure it’s a true laugh and not one shielding pain or regret.

“Well that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.

” I scratch at my now unkempt beard. “The reason I’m here is because you are…

lacking the desire to adventure, sexually,” I carefully state.

“Vanilla,” he says, “I think that’s what the world at large calls a person like me. Vanilla.”

I nod. “You said it, not me.”

He laughs. “I’m not ashamed. Vanilla is a great flavor. One of my favorites.”

I nod. “Well, you went from vanilla to accepting this cacophony of flavors in your life, and I’m just wanting to know how you got there, how you’re so good with all of this.”

He sips his beer as the foamy white ocean claims our ankles for a moment.

Avery tosses wet hair over her shoulder, flopping back into the waves as I tap the remote again.

“That night, in the hotel room, I realized that, you know, the signs had been there. She’d been asking for more from me for some time and…

I brushed it off. But she expressed outright that she needed more and that she didn’t want to go without those experiences.

And I knew right then and there that I had to change or I’d lose her. ”

I nudge a clump of wet sand with my toe. “When I offered…”

“It clicked into place, that a trusted third was what we needed. And I have no male attraction, so to me, having our third be you made even more sense, in some twisted sort of way.”

It makes sense to me, too. “I shared those thoughts, more or less.”

He peers back at me, sipping the last of his beer, which is mostly foam at this point.

“You know, I thought it was going to be weird, and something I’d need to like, reconcile in therapy later.

But it’s alarming how natural everything feels.

There’s peace of mind knowing that Avery gets the things she needs from someone I trust implicitly. The worry and anxiety never kicked in.”

I bob my head to his words, then scratch at my beard, one more question on my mind. “Do you enjoy watching her?”

A grin sweeps his face. “The most un-vanilla thing about me is how fiercely I enjoy watching her.”

I toggle the switch on the remote and turn off the toy, which causes Avery to flip onto her belly in the shallow water and blink at us, looking like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model more than anything. “Hey,” she pouts.

Sutton looks at me. “Time to go back?”

I nod, collecting our chairs as Sutton towels Avery off.

The three of us walk up the long teak boardwalk to our bungalow, and slip inside.

For our last night here, Avery asks for pain, to see if she likes it and wants to further explore.

Back in the room, she stays sun and sand-kissed when I tie her wrists together, then to the headboard, and tie her feet to the bed frame, spread eagle.

I place the metal clamps she selected at the toy store on her nipples, and drag my fingertips down her bare belly, tickling her, trying to steal her focus from the biting pain.

She winces and whines, but when Sutton appears in a bathrobe and wet hair, she calms for him, her eyes set on his profile as he sits next to her on the bed, kneading her muscles.

“Remember, if it hurts too much, you say red,” he reminds her, kissing her cheek before finding his place; the chair in the corner. She nods, and we begin.

With the plug still in, I straddle her waist and tug at the clamps on her nipples. She whines but never uses the safe word, and when I reach back and dip my fingers between her legs, she’s achy to the touch, wet and warm. “You like the discomfort, don’t you Avery?”

She nods her head, and turns to look at Sutton, whose focus is pinned on the red blooming around her nipples. Concern is etched on his forehead, but he doesn’t speak, so I tug her clamp on the left side, hard, and get her attention back to me.

“Tell him it’s a good pain. A pain that makes the pleasure better.

Take away his concern, Avery. Don’t let your husband worry.

” She nods at me, sweat glistening in the hollow of her throat.

She looks so good this way, tested, worn out, still starved for it.

She’s perfect, and I need to quit fucking using that word for her.

It’s dangerous.

“It feels so good, Sutt,” she moans, alleviating the concern etched on his face.

With my thumb on her clit, I rub her, holding the chains to her clamps in my other hand.

“When I pull this chain, and these clamps come off, it’s going to be intense, blinding pain for a few seconds,” I tell her, preparing her for what I know is going to hurt.

“But I’m gonna make you come, Avery, and I’m gonna pull the chain at the same time, and you’re going to experience that exquisite pain along with the explosive pleasure. ”

She nods. “I want to come now, but I’m scared,” she admits, causing Sutton to hold her bound hands in one of his.

The circles I make over her swollen clit grow tighter, more urgent, and a moment later, her legs are trembling and her pleas for mercy echo off the aged teak. “Please, G, please,” she moans.

My eyes lift to my son’s, and he grips her hands more tightly as I give him the nod. He returns his focus to his wife’s flushed face, and I position myself lower, between her legs, and bring my mouth to her pussy, and finish her with my tongue.

Her orgasm peaks, and I tug the chain, burying my face deeper into her cunt as her howls of pain and pleasure electrify the air.

Sutton’s voice is heavy in the space, his assurance and praise reverberating through the walls as I finish her off.

When I’m done, he’s still softly kissing her neck and talking her through it, and I get up, untie her, then wash my face.

I pass him arnica cream, and he pulls her into his lap, gently spreading the ointment over her wrists and ankles where the rope was tied.

She’s limp in her postcoital bliss, and she smiles at me as Sutton gives her the best aftercare, and I pour us each an ice water as the balmy evening air leaves us misted in sweat.

That night, the last night of the honeymoon, neither Sutton nor myself make love to Avery. She’s the only one to orgasm, but we fall into bed not more than an hour later, sated and exhausted. We wake up to Avery’s alarm the next morning, and the honeymoon is officially over.

We travel all day, exhausted and sore. And back at the airport, Sutton is surprised when two Mercer Properties cars arrive. I tell them I’m going to go back to my place for a week or two before I move into their house, because I have things to get in order, and stuff to pack.

Avery kisses me goodbye, and I shake Sutton’s hand, but his gaze follows me into the backseat of the town car, and I don’t miss the way he watches me until the car pulls off into the night.

He thinks I’m lying about why I can’t go over there.

And he’s right.