Sharing Adam (3 page)

Elliot’s cries morphed into broken whispers, then a wail when she withdrew. She didn’t ask whether Elliot had returned the favour and gone down on Adam. She’d already guessed the answer. “Mouths only, or did you fuck?”

Elliot pushed up on to his elbows. “How much do you want to know?”

“Everything. All of it.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” A silky grin spread across his lips. “I mean, what’s it worth? Because it’s private, and not really relevant to us.”

“It seems pretty relevant to me. You were snogging him earlier.”

“Does that demand the dredging up of all the sordid details of my past?”

The word sordid acted on her like a jug full of aphrodisiac. “Which way round did you do it?” she asked. Because, yes, they absolutely did need to retread upon the events of his past. She needed to know exactly how involved with Adam he’d been. She had to hear it in order to make the fantastical images in her head that bit crisper. Though what she really wanted was for him to stand up and say, ‘Hang on, I’ll just go get Adam and we can demonstrate’.

Only Elliot didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything for several seconds, until her brow rumpled. “You didn’t answer,” he explained. “I meant it as a genuine question.”

Becca silently unravelled the conversation of the last few minutes until she happened upon his ask.

“What are you going to give me in return?” Elliot clarified. He had the sort of smirk on his face that made her pulse race. It hinted at raunchy animal sex. The sort of down and dirty stuff they didn’t do nearly enough of these days. “Come on, Becca, work with me a little here. You know I don’t like discussing my past relationships, and I’ve never beaten a drum over you sharing yours.”

“I know, but this is different, right? It’s not really past like Wendy, the girl you mooned over in high school, past. This is past that just collided with the present.” Becca shuffled up closer to him, so that her breasts tickled his chest hair and his cock nestled perfectly between the split of her pussy. “Plus, it’s not as if I’m going to blab to the world. This is just me and you sharing a little intimacy.” She rocked her hips in encouragement, which made him groan. “And, of course, if you tell me nicely, I might have a very special reward for you.”

Elliot cocked his head to one side making pretence of doubt. “How special?”

Lord God, the man had to know, didn’t he? Wasn’t it blatantly obvious from how close they were pressed? It’d take nothing more than a minor wiggle for him to slide in and fill her right up. Becca nibbled his earlobe, then whispered, “Tell me, Elliot, or else I’m going to get off your lap and walk down the corridor, find him, and ask him just how far it went.”

“You won’t do that.” His hands circled her waist. The tightness of his grip betrayed the doubt in his assertion.

“Yes, I will. I’m sure I can prise his number from the desk clerk. And hey, what’s Adam to lose by telling me? It’s not as if you’re still an item.”

“We were never an item.”

“Bingo! Now we’re getting somewhere.” She slid back and forth along his prick, an act that caused his eyes to glaze over and that she had to fight not to overdo. Fact was, it felt bloody good, and he was so, so close, it would take hardly any sort of movement at all to join them in perfect harmony. But she was going to hold out and perfect this interrogation technique. “Shall we start with a straightforward question or two? Is he gay?”

“He’s a flirt.”

No big surprises there. “Now that wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

“Ask him yourself. We haven’t been in touch recently.”

Becca let that particular point ride. She wasn’t even sure why it was important. What was more relevant was that Adam had at some point been intimate with her husband. Even more intimate than the act she’d witnessed.

“Okay. One-night stand, or multiple-occasion thing?”

Elliot buried his face in her shoulder, but she distinctly heard him say, “Multiple.” Judging by how hot his cheek was where it pressed against her skin, he was burning with embarrassment. She gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, not wanting the information to dry up. Hell, she wanted to know dates and places, positions, chat-up lines, foreplay and ratings out of five for each and every act. That said, it might be best if they didn’t get into exact figures yet, and just stuck to the juicy excerpts. “How did it happen? Did you pick one another up in a club or something?”

“He invited me over to play chess.”

“Huh!” That jerked her out of the scenario she was generating in her head, where they were dancing up against one another in some nightclub, and had realised they needed to engage in a rather more vigorous form of bump and grind. “You don’t even play chess.”

“Nor does he.”

Smart Alec.

“He didn’t even own a set.”

“Is that why he offered to suck your cock, to apologise for being such a humongous goof?”

“Do you think he looks like a goof?”

Actually, as a matter of fact she thought he looked altogether too delicious, in a rough, somewhat sharp sort of way. It wouldn’t have surprised her to learn that Adam liked whips and chains and flogging tied-up folks across the arse, which as an idea made her altogether uncomfortable, nervous and intoxicated. He probably had a pierced nipple or a vast dragon tattooed across his back.

“So, he sucked your cock as an apology for failing to have the game you came over to play?”

“He sucked me so that I was relaxed enough so that he could fuck me,” Elliot confessed. Becca made a point of seeking his gaze after that admission, and, God, if Elliot wasn’t squirming. He wouldn’t look at her for more than a millisecond.

“He fucked you,” she stated, and watched in delight as further colour licked across his cheekbones and up into his temples.

“Yes.” He pouted. “Are you happy now that you know he’s been in my arse?”

She almost sniggered as Elliot’s face scrunched up into a defensive mask. Except, judging by the way he was still jerking his hips, his embarrassment was more of a turn-on than a turn-off.

“Go on,” Becca prompted. “It’s not enough to just tell me it happened. You have to tell me how it was done. What it felt like.”

“Don’t make me, Becca.”

Don’t make him. If she didn’t make him he’d probably burst or have a stroke. Besides, she needed to know. All his wriggling and sliding up against her entrance but not quite making it inside, then spearing upwards instead to drub upon her clit, was bringing her ever closer to simply grabbing him and going at it like it was the all-time best ride of her life. “Tell me.”

Maybe the demand came out more forcefully than she’d intended—nevertheless, it had the desired effect.

“He sat us together, kind of like this,” Elliot confessed, his words coming out slightly thick. “Facing each other—not from behind like everyone imagines gay sex is. Then he had me lower myself. It was supposed to be slow, but—” He scooped her up; lifted her so that this time, when she fell, his cock sank into her, joining them in one neat stroke.

Relief! Blessed, blessed, relief. She needed this so badly. His lips brushed her neck. He was still speaking, staying with the tale.

“—I couldn’t hold the pace. Not that slow. Anticipation got the better of me. I sank down at the same time that he bucked up. One glorious thrust and he was in me to the hilt. I swear, Becca; I’ve never known so much agony, so much pleasure mixed into one. I felt so damn full. It was like I was going to burst. And my heart was going so fast I thought that was going to burst too. But it was all good. Lord, it was bloody fantastic. Adam just held me for a moment. I think he was trying to keep me still. Then I guess I must have relaxed a little, because he started moving. I could feel everything, every tiny shiver, every buck of his cock.”

“Yes,” she agreed, for she could feel that too. She loved being astride Elliot like this, feeling the way his muscles pulled up tight each time he thrust. Knowing that, no matter what, ultimately, control lay in her hands.

“Then we were fucking. Properly fucking and I was just riding it. It was the most perfect, shocking, amazing thing. Any minute I thought I was going to come and paint his iron-flat abs with my stuff. Then, do you know what he said?”

Becca shook her head. She too was riding that cresting wave, allowing Elliot’s words to drift past her without allowing them to sink deep enough to cause any concern or pain. The whole time he spoke she kept a frantic grip upon his back. She was probably marking him. Elliot would wake in the morning with criss-crossed scratches across his shoulder blades that made him look like the victim of a werewolf attack.

“He said, ‘Reach down between us and rub your dick’.”

“Yeah,” she breathed between smeared kisses. “Did you do it?”

“I didn’t want to, because I was already so close.” His blush reached his eyes at that confession. Becca brushed her lips against his eyelids. “But I didn’t want to upset things either, so, when he gave me the instruction again, I did it. I wrapped my palm tight around my shaft and gave myself exactly what I needed. I swear I was hanging on by a thread. The only way to stop myself coming was to pinch around the base of my cock. Even then it was touch and go. But it was fine, because Adam gave me another instruction.”

“Come,” she guessed.

“Nah,” Elliot drawled, and the intonation told her that wasn’t who Adam was. He wasn’t easy or soft. More had crossed his mind than giving Elliot a good time. His own pleasure was paramount too. Some gut-level type instinct told her Adam wouldn’t let his partner climax until he was good and ready to come too.

“He got hold of my hand and sucked my fingers into his mouth, just like this.” Elliot pushed his first two fingers into her open mouth for her to suck. “He made sure they were good and wet. Then he got me to feel my way down his back to his arse.”

Suddenly, one of Elliot’s big hands was doing exactly that. Becca stiffened a little as his loved-up digits circled the tight furl of her anus. She used fingers on him there quite often, but they rarely did things this way round.

“Oh!” she squeaked, having failed to anticipate Elliot taking things in this direction. He kept on stroking her there, which sent bolts of shock and excitement ricocheting through her already highly aroused form. “Ell,” she groaned into his shoulder. He was going to tip her over if he kept on doing that. Her sensitivity there was damn near off the scale. If he dared to—my God, he dared to… First one, then the second digit penetrated her arse. She was being filled both back and front. She closed her eyes and it was as if Adam were in the room with them. His muscular body wedged up against her back, and his cock branding her arse, while Elliot filled her cunt.

That thought undid her completely. Becca sobbed out her orgasm into her lover’s shoulder. Seconds later, Elliot came inside her, equally hard.

Chapter Three

“What do we do now?” Becca asked as they readied themselves for breakfast the next morning. They’d spent the rest of the night curled up together like newborn puppies or kittens, nothing quite as sterile or cold as nested spoons. Wedding over, they were now dressed in their informal best. Fancy enough to fit in with the hotel decor, but far too nice for the weekend grocery shop.

“About what?” Elliot muffled a yawn. The banquette hadn’t been all that comfortable, something she’d realised during their post-coital cuddle. Consequently, Elliot was rather sleep deprived. Sure, she’d let him join her in the king-sized bed, but he’d only had a few winks up until that point.

Becca waited for the bride’s family to go into the restaurant ahead of them, before jabbing Elliot in the ribs to jolt him from his zombified state. “You know what about. Last night, remember? Adam, and what you got up to, and how I’d like to, you know…” She jabbed him again to make the point.

Following a second, rather prolonged yawn, Elliot shrugged in incomprehension. “I thought I was forgiven. Didn’t we make up?”

“You are, but…”

“But I am or I’m not?”

Becca raised her hands in despair. Evidently, the complexities of last night’s sex had completely washed over Elliot. She nudged him forward and left off trying to prompt his tired brain until he’d drained a glass of orange juice and started on a mountain of fruit. “I meant about how I’m interested in seeing you like that? Not that you’re a bad boy for doing it.”

“Christ, Becca!” He spluttered fruit over the tablecloth. Breath recovered, he snatched up a napkin and dusted away the offending bits of forest fruits. “Not fair,” he complained, whilst giving his nose a wiggle. “I’ve never snorted raspberries before. I didn’t think you were serious. I thought we were, you know, play-acting in order to get off.”

“So, you were lying about you and Adam?”

“No.” He cast a glance about the room, clearly making sure they weren’t in danger of being overheard. The restaurant, with its paint-splash modern art, held only a few late risers. Many of the wedding guests had departed the previous night. “Look, I might have embellished things a bit.”

“How much of a bit? Are you now saying he’s never fucked you?”

Elliot pulled a sour face around a piece of grapefruit. “Look, it was obviously turning you on, so I ran with it.”

“Has he or has he not shagged your arse?” she hissed.

“Has.” Elliot bowed his head and concentrated on his bowl until he’d emptied it. He drank a whole cup of tea before he spoke to her again. “I never realised that you were that into the idea. Are you really serious about wanting to see that shit?”

Was it really so terrible that the idea of seeing her husband being fucked turned her into a sex maniac? If she did a quick survey of the breakfast guests, how would the notion of her watching her other half get some go down? Hot or not? Approval or disdain?

She guessed the answer was plain enough on Elliot’s shock-whitened face. Sadly, him looking a bit peaky didn’t quieten the excited tingle in her cunt. There weren’t that many things in life she’d wanted with any degree of passion. However, the few things that fit that bill she’d fought, scrimped and saved her way to getting. Brand new car, a biomedical degree, and that Louis Vuitton case she’d craved so badly when she was seventeen. Admittedly, they were things and hadn’t really involved other people, but…