“Use your fingers,” he urged. “Play with that beautiful pussy and pretend it’s his tongue.”
I couldn’t. The orgasm was too blinding, too intense, too unexpectedly sudden and I rocked back, impaling him on me, his grunt of pleasure breaking the last tie of control. I screamed, my body quaking, and he gripped my shoulders, moving his slick cock in and out of my tight ass. I screamed again, my orgasm spurred on by the reckless volume, the belief that Aaron might hear, he could know, he could be standing at the dark crack of the door and watching as Easton took my ass and fucked me through this orgasm.
“I’m gonna come.” Easton’s hand tightened on my shoulder and he swore, gasping as his hips slowed, his pleasure peaking, and he called out my name, a cry of worship in the moment before he collapsed to one side of the bed and pulled me with him.
We laid there under the slow swipe of the fan in sated silence. He moved, his dick sliding out of me, and I winced at the spark of discomfort.
“Fuck,” he drawled. “You are insane, you know that?” He pulled me into his chest and I laid my head against his head, the rapid heartbeats tapering off into a more peaceful rhythm. Reaching over, he tugged at the sheet, draping it over my naked body, protecting the view. A long moment passed and I listened to the sounds of the house. From down the hall, the television was barely audible. The yard was quiet, and I suddenly thought of the landscaper.
“How much of that do you think the yard guy heard?”
“He probably can’t hear shit after listening to that mower for the last hour. Don’t worry about it.” He twisted a dark lock of my hair around his finger and gently tugged. “Let me get the door.”
I propped up on one elbow and watched as he made it to the door and shut it, working the door into the frame. He kicked it with his foot and it knocked into place. When we moved in, our neighbors told us that Hurricane Donna picked our house up a little, then set it back down. I didn’t know if I believed that story, but it would explain why it doesn’t seem to have a single right angle. Coming back to the bed, I watched as he lowered his naked body beside me.
“This is interesting.” He used his forefinger to move a fallen chunk of hair out of my eyes. Snagging his finger on a bobby pin, he carefully removed the offending item, then tossed it in the general direction of the bathroom. “This Aaron fascination you suddenly have.”
“I wouldn’t call it a fascination.” I frowned. “You’re the one who just took all of that there.”
“You seemed to like it.” His finger ran across my collarbone and pulled at the sheet, dragging it down until my breasts were exposed. Reverently, he caressed the twin mounds. They were one of his favorite parts of my body. I had a brief moment of vanity, thinking of what pregnancy would do to them. Maybe my stubborn uterus was for the best. Maybe, with all of the torrid thoughts in my head—I wasn’t fit to be a mom anyway.
“Did you?” Easton dropped his head and took the closest nipple into his mouth, tenderly sucking at the sensitive bud.
I sighed and cupped the back of his head, watching. “I did like it.”
“Have you ever thought about him before?” His gaze flicked up to meet mine, but he kept his mouth in place, the scruff of his beard brushing over the delicate curve of my breast.
“Before Vegas?” I hesitated. “Sometimes. But never just him. I would think about him and you, doing stuff with me.”
He lifted his mouth. “Really?” He frowned, considering the idea. “Both of us with you at the same time? Like double penetration?”
“No, no, no.” I made a face at the idea. “Like, other stuff. I don’t know. Stupid stuff.”
He moved higher up on the bed until our faces were level. “Tell me.”
“Noooo.” I kicked a leg out from under the sheet, freeing it.
“Come on.” He inched closer until his mouth was inches away, the warm blow of his breath against my lips. “Tell me.”
“Easton…” I tried to pull back and his mouth captured mine, his hand cupping my head and pulling me to him. I struggled against his kiss, keeping my lips stiff, my tongue unresponsive.
“Stop fighting me,” he whispered, gently pressing small pecks against my lips before trying again for a deeper kiss.
I gave in, relaxing into his touch as my mind churned through his questions. Have you ever thought about him before? Tell me. It wasn’t like Aaron was the crux of my fantasies. I’d had so many unwelcome thoughts about so many men—Aaron just happened to be the one who I was currently literally tripping over, the one who had stood on that dark balcony and made my first fantasy come to life. If I was start confessing my thoughts to Easton, maybe I should bring up my secret scenarios about someone else, someone who wasn’t in our house, eating dinner with us every night. Someone who didn’t feel so close.