His name whispered in and out of my pleasure-filled haze, always at the back of my mind, even as I was sucked and stroked by the hands and mouths of others.
Kennedy was between my thighs, his face buried there for so long that I was sure it would be red with a rash when he came up. I lost count of how many orgasms he’d given me, how many times he’d put his fingers inside and manually fucked me until I was shaking and trembling, until I was shouting and writhing.
I was sure there were other hands and other caresses going on, other people getting attention that I was unaware of. The Persian woman had another man nuzzling at her neck. Who even knew what was going on with Kennedy and his cock? Someone was attending to it, surely. It wasn’t my concern at this meal. I was the main course of this particular feast, for no special reason other than that was how the kisses had turned tonight, and the main course didn’t look at the other servings to see if they were being enjoyed.
But I did keep coming back to Nate. Wondering if he’d make an appearance. Wanting to see his face at my feet, between my legs. Just in the room watching, even.
My mouth was swollen and the scent of sex was heavy in the air when I finally heard his voice.
“Perfect. Always so perfect.”
I opened my eyes from the haze of ecstasy. Could it really be…? It was what a junkie must feel like coming down from a high. Or maybe I was the junkie, desperate for another fix of the man I knew was bad for me? I had to swim through a cloud of indecision before I could focus on my surroundings.
My eyes found him, and it felt like finding myself, like finding home.
Had I missed him this much, or was everyone else just so pale in comparison to his colorful life, his sexual prowess, his surprising answers?
Like that first night, he didn’t get too near. Just stood watching. A voyeur.
But this time his tuxedo pants were pulled down, and his cock was in his hands. He fisted himself tightly, jerking off while his eyes stayed pinned on me, on the beautiful display of my sex being adored in front of him. I stretched, opening up in front of him, as though I were a flower and he were the sun. I wanted him to see all of me, wanted him to see me being admired like this. Wanted him to see me being alternately used and served.
I saw him watch as Chuck rolled one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, saw Nate’s expression when my mouth curved into an O, as Kennedy brought me to yet another orgasm, and my back arched up, up away from the man behind me and into the mouth of the Persian woman waiting to suck on my lower lip, on my jaw.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” Nate said, and I could tell from the tightness in his tone that he was close to his own release. We’d only been with each other a few times, but it was enough for me to learn his cues, and I wanted to see him, I wanted to be there for him.
The closure we’d never had could be turned into a new beginning, if he’d just come with me. Come for me.
I pulled away from the touches of other arms, other legs. I untangled myself and bent my knees in front of Nate.
“I’m your canvas,” I said. “Make me your art.”
Nate’s eyes hooded as he tugged harder on his cock and stepped closer. God, he was beautiful. He was a work of art. His body strong and finely chiseled, his jewel-green eyes arresting.
Behind me, Chuck followed to where I knelt so he could wrap his arms around my tits, one in each hand. He pushed them together, making perfect cleavage for the man in front of me.
“So hot. So fucking sexy.” Nate began muttering a string of words, dirty, filthy words, and then he shot his cum all over me—all over my breasts, over Chuck’s hands—painting me with his bliss.
That was what I loved about these parties. This community’s communal goal, everyone reaching toward their own climax, everyone helping everyone else attain pleasure. And sometimes it wasn’t even an orgasm, sometimes it was just watching and feeling every kind of sensation. The beautiful words exchanged. The sounds… God, the sounds that we made together. The harmony our bodies produced. It was my favorite thing in the world.
I’d never had to have any of it outside of these nights, never needed to take anyone outside of these walls, but seeing Nathan Sinclair, I wondered if that had changed.
Had he changed me? How much could I change?
I pulled him away to a bathroom to clean up with me.
“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” I said, not wanting to give away how glad I was to see him, but desperate to say something at the same time. To acknowledge that he was important to me.
“I wouldn’t have missed you for the world.” He kissed me, his tongue moving into the deepest parts of me, the places that I didn’t always want to share.
When he broke away, I felt unsettled.
“Busy week?” I asked, looking away as I pulled my dress on over my head, not wanting to meet his eyes. “You seemed to be working late when you sent your texts.”
“Yes. With Weston on his quote-unquote honeymoon, I had to pick up a lot of slack in the office. Donovan took his girlfriend off for the weekend, which meant they both left early yesterday, so I was working today too.” He helped straighten my dress and rubbed off my smudged eyeliner. “I took a break tonight to come and see you.”
“I’m sure everyone loved having you here.” I pushed out the bathroom door, wishing he hadn’t made tonight all about me. It made me feel shackled even though my stomach fluttered at the same time.
Once again, I was worried what he thought was going on between us.
It would sure help if I had a handle on the idea myself.
“Did you want me to grab your coat?” he asked when we were in the hall.
“Sure. That would be great.” Grabbing someone’s coat for them was harmless. Right?
He disappeared into the guest room where the coats had been stored. As soon as he was gone, Chuck Richard came up to me, fully dressed now.
“Miss T,” he said, brushing his fingers along my jawline. “You are so sexy tonight. And I’m still so hard for you. Let me come home with you.”
This was pretty standard. Almost every week he asked if he could go home with me or if I would go home with him.
“I’ll take you to a hotel if you’d rather,” he suggested this time. “We’ll keep the neighbors up all night long.”
“Sounds like a blast,” I said with a flirtatious wink. “But I’ve got my rules, Chuck.”
“Rules were made to be broken.” He rubbed his nose against mine.
I was about to give him another one of my patented brush-offs when Nate returned with my jacket. “She’s going home with me,” he said adamantly.
I stiffened.
What the—? I mean, he hadn’t even asked me. We hadn’t talked about it. He’d just assumed?
I wasn’t going to challenge him though, not in front of Chuck Richard.
“So you do know rules are made to be broken,” Chuck said, his eyes darting from me to Nate, assessing how serious the situation was. “I knew you couldn’t be that strict of a rule follower. No one here is.”