“Good, now keep riding our boy.”
The hot suction around his cock combined with Claire’s little squeaks of pleasure as she rode Aidan was enough to short-circuit his brain. It wasn’t long before the only thought he was capable of producing was go, go, go.
Dylan wasn’t gentle as he drove his dick all the way to the back of Aidan’s throat, fucking him with fast, deep strokes. He gripped the man’s dark hair and pumped his hips, thrusting harder, deeper, and when he felt Aidan’s teeth scrape the underside of his shaft, he swore loudly and shuddered with pleasure that bordered on pain.
And the entire time, he kept his gaze locked with Claire’s, knowing from her glazed brown eyes and strained breathing that she was close.
“She’s gonna come soon,” he told Aidan. “You’re gonna feel her cunt squeezing your cock soon as she milks you dry.”
With his mouth otherwise occupied, Aidan could only respond with a muffled groan. His dark eyes peered up at Dylan, blazing with such all-consuming desire it took Dylan’s breath away.
“C’mon, Claire, I wanna see you lose control.” He focused his gaze on the junction of her thighs, on the swollen clit she was rubbing with two fingers as she moved up and down Aidan’s erection. “That’s it, keep touching yourself, honey. Make yourself come and show us how much you like riding Aidan’s big cock—”
Claire released a blissful cry as she climaxed.
The moment he glimpsed the ecstasy surging through her eyes, Dylan let himself go. He exploded inside Aidan’s mouth in long, hot pulses that racked his body, groaning as he watched the other man’s throat working hard to swallow his seed.
But then the exquisite suction was suddenly gone.
“Coming,” Aidan grunted, and his long fingers dug into Claire’s slender hips as he thrust upward and shuddered with release.
When Dylan glimpsed the shiny come leaking from the corner of Aidan’s mouth, he was hit with another spontaneous orgasm, more hot jets shooting out of his cock and spraying Aidan’s muscular chest.
Holy shit. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t see anything but the black dots dancing in front of his eyes.
He didn’t think he’d ever come that hard in his life.
When Claire began to laugh, the wheezy sounds brought an exhausted grin to Dylan’s lips.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking—” she continued to shake with laughter, “—how dumb I was for not wanting to be the kind of woman—” another giggle, “—who did stuff like this. Because seriously? I’ve never had this much fun in my life.”
They wound up spending the rest of the afternoon lounging on the couch, which was officially Dylan’s new favorite piece of furniture in the condo. He and Aidan were in their boxers, Claire in nothing but Dylan’s wifebeater, and they were lying in the position that had become their trademark—Aidan on his back, Claire curled up beside him, and Dylan nestled behind her.
Only this time, Aidan had surprised him by reaching for his hand, and Dylan’s gaze kept flitting toward the intertwined fingers resting on Claire’s hip.
A strange undercurrent traveled between them as Aidan shifted his head to meet Dylan’s eyes.
His breath caught, because Aidan was looking at him in a way he’d never done before. Almost like…fuck, Dylan refused to let his mind even go there. The other man had been holding a part of himself back the entire time they’d been together. It had really bothered him at first, but Dylan had eventually recognized the futility in wishing Aidan would be more vocal about his feelings.
Except now, in this moment, there was no mistaking the tenderness in Aidan’s eyes.
As their gazes locked, something hot and unfamiliar coursed between them, but the odd intimacy dissolved when Aidan broke the eye contact to answer Claire, who’d been talking about her latest job for the past ten minutes.
“Sounds like there’s a reason this place is losing money,” Aidan remarked.
“Yeah, no kidding. They literally have four people doing the job of one person,” she said in disbelief. “And don’t even get me started on one of their software designers. When I was there yesterday, he spent the entire day tinkering with his fantasy football lineup. He kept minimizing the window whenever I walked by, but one time he wasn’t fast enough and I totally recognized the site he was on—it’s the same one my dad’s fantasy league uses.”
Dylan laughed. “Well, at least he’s doing something somewhat productive and not just fucking around on solitaire.”