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“Then I want Peter in my mouth.” I nod my head before I ask—for the first time in my life—for permission. “Can Peter fuck my throat?”
Gus doesn’t flinch. He averts his attention to Peter and raises his chin. “Well, Davenport? Do you want my girl to suck your dick?”
His girl.
“Yes. God yes.” Peter takes yet another step closer, an expression of wild anticipation on his face. He’s already hard beneath his swim trunks, and I’ve been with Peter enough times to know he’s thrilled with this turn of events.
Satisfied, Gus swivels his gaze back to me and assesses me. I’m still not sure how to read the situation. We went from having a mature, adult conversation about opening up to each other emotionally…to now engineering a threesome with my best friend.
My misgivings begin to fade when I notice Gus is suppressing a smile. He wants this so much, all because of one throwaway comment I made when I was trying to mess with his head. Is this what it’s like to be Gus Winter’s girl? He fulfills your every whim, no matter how taboo or risky, and simply delights in making you happy?
“Safe word?” Gus asks while he rubs my shoulders affectionately.
“Paris.”
Gus looks at Peter. “And you?”
“Edelweiss,” Peter replies, his expression still bewildered like he can’t believe this is happening. “What about you?”
“Graceland,” Gus responds before he turns his attention back to me. “Take off my shirt.”
With the order dangling in the air, I realize what Gus gets out of this. It’s full control. He’s in charge of me—and Peter—and it doesn’t matter if there’s another man here. We’re both here to entertain Gus Winter.
The thought makes my stomach flutter.
I do as I’m told and reveal his flawless body. His tan skin and sculpted muscles somehow look even better than they did in Montana. I inhale and exhale audibly, taking in his physique, wishing I could run my tongue along each ridge in his abdomen.
It’s like he can read my mind.
He sits before he pulls me towards him, moving me like a prop. He places me in his lap so I’m seated atop his erection with my shins resting on the cushion beneath him. His hardness teases me through the sparse, thin layers between us.
Gus tilts me forward, guiding my lips to his chest. I kiss him, taste him. I trace the contours of one defined muscle and glance up. Gus’s gaze is an inferno.
He lowers his hand to the spot where my apex rests against his erection. With a simple hook of his finger, he pulls my bottoms to the side.
“I haven’t touched your pussy since December,” he muses. He drags his finger along the edge of my lips. “That’s entirely too long. So pink. Wet. Tight.” When he says the last word, he plunges a finger into me.
I gasp at the sudden intrusion, but catch my bearings quickly. It only takes a single stroke to make me realize I actually missed being filled by him.
He adds another finger to join the first and pumps harder, pushing deep enough for the heel of his palm to press against my clit. The sensation makes me squirm against his hand.
…And then that motherfucker pulls his hand away.
“August—”
His other hand clasps over my mouth, and I hate how much my stomach flutters when he silences me.
“Nope. Not going any further until you pull your weight,” he warns and raises his chin in Peter’s direction.
Peter, who is openly working his cock while he watches Gus finger me, takes a step closer when he sees Gus beckon him over.
A tense moment passes between Peter and me. I stare at his thick, ruddy length, gathering my nerve. I shift as Gus returns his fingers and presses them deep in me again, curling them to massage the sensitive spot by my entrance. My body is light and tingly, and adrenaline courses through me. Two sets of eyes watch while I’m thoroughly finger fucked—and I love it.
“Do it,” Gus murmurs before he plants a chaste kiss against my temple. His free hand brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, doting and affectionate and a stark contrast to the words that come out of his mouth next:
“Suck his cock, Julia.”
The assurance in his voice helps push aside my lingering fear of upsetting the delicate balance between Gus and me. Deep breath. Gently, I wrap my hand around Peter’s length. He’s warm in my hand and reassuringly familiar, like a homecoming of sorts. I lock eyes with him while my hand rests on the base of his cock. I nod—and so does he. It’s all I need to know he’s still on board. Deftly, I begin to work him, dragging my hand from base to tip.
