Page 100 of Better When Shared
My last defenses crumbled like ancient walls finally succumbing to time and weather.
I reached out with trembling fingers, tracing the sharp line of Marco's jaw with a touch that was reverent and desperate. His skin was warm, slightly rough with morning stubble that scraped against my palm in ways that made my cock twitch with interest.
"I've never," I started, then stopped. The admission felt too large for words.
"That's okay," Marco said softly, leaning into my touch like he'd been waiting for permission. "We don't have to do anything you don't want."
"Have you?"
Marco smiled. "Not in a long time. Juniper and I have been together since college. So I'll be exploring just as much as you, in a way. If that’s what you want."
I did. I wanted it with an intensity that made my chest tight and my breathing shallow. Having her wasn’t enough. My body ached for him, too. For the taste of his mouth, the solid weight of his body pressed against mine, for the sounds he'd make when I touched his cock for the first time.
I leaned forward, closing the space between us in a motion that felt as inevitable as gravity. When our lips met, when I finally tasted Marco's mouth, every carefully constructed boundary I'd ever built turned to ash.
He tasted like a man, like possibility. His lips were warm and sure against mine. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration rather than desperate claiming, but when his tongue swept against my lower lip, when he made a soft sound of appreciation that vibrated through both our bodies, something wild and hungry roared to life in my chest.
"Fuck," I whispered, the word emerging without conscious permission.
"Good fuck or bad fuck?" Juniper asked, laughter threading through her voice. "Because from here it looked pretty damn sexy."
I looked at her, then back at Marco, feeling like I'd just discovered a new color in the spectrum of human experience.
"Definitely good fuck."
Juniper slid a hand down her legs, her eyes hot with need. "Then, by all means, continue. I'm enjoying the show."
We stared at each other for an instant before desperate need consumed rational thought. Marco's hands fisted in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss with the kind of hungry possession that made my blood rush to my core. Our tongues met and tangled, tasting and claiming with an urgency that spoke of months of suppressed desire finally given permission.
My analytical mind—the careful processor that had governed every decision for thirty-two years—switched off the way it had with Juniper last night. In its place was pure animal want, the kind of primal hunger that reduced everything to sensation and need. Marco's mouth was hot and demanding against mine, his teeth scraping my lower lip, marking me. Claiming me.
We rolled across the creaky mattress like we were wrestling, and maybe we were. We were fighting for dominance, all hard planes of muscle and desperately grasping hands. Though in the end, I knew I’d happily go to my knees for him and offer he wanted.
Marco's chest pressed against mine, the dark hair dusting his pectorals, creating friction that made me groan into his mouth. When he pinned my wrists above my head, when his hips groundagainst mine with deliberate pressure, I bucked beneath him like a wild thing.
"Holy shit," Juniper breathed, her voice thick with appreciation. "You two are hot as hell together. Look at you—can't get enough of each other."
Her commentary sent fresh heat racing through my veins. I'd never been watched before, never had someone catalog my responses with such obvious enjoyment. The knowledge that she was drinking in every desperate movement, getting off to every bitten-off moan, made the experience somehow more intense.
Marco released my wrists to map the territory of my chest with reverent hands, fingers tracing patterns on skin that felt hypersensitive to every touch. When his palms found my nipples, when he pinched and rolled them between calloused fingers, I arched off the bed with a sound that was pure desperation.
"Fuck, you're responsive," he murmured against my throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin just below my ear. "I love how you sound when I touch you. I’ve been dreaming about this. About having you under me, making you fall apart."
The dirty talk should have embarrassed me, should have triggered some protective mechanism that restored proper boundaries. Instead, it made my cock throb against his hip, made me thrust upward seeking friction he was deliberately withholding.
"Please," I gasped, the word torn from my throat without conscious permission. "Marco, please."
His laugh was dark and knowing. "Please what? Tell me what you want, Tristan. Use your words."
But words had abandoned me entirely. I could only writhe beneath him, chasing the contact he gave and withdrew with maddening precision. When he shifted position, when his mouth found the hollow of my throat and sucked hard enough to leave marks, I thought I might come from the sensation alone.
"I've been dreaming about your cock in my mouth," he whispered against my collarbone, the confession making my entire body shudder. "About making you scream my name while I suck you off. Want to taste you, want to feel you lose control on my tongue."
The words hit like physical blows, each syllable sending shockwaves through my nervous system. No one but Marco and Juniper had ever reduced me to base need with nothing but promises and teeth against sensitive skin.
Marco began kissing his way down my chest, his mouth hot and wet as he worked lower. He paused at each nipple, sucking and biting until I was writhing beneath him, then continued his downward journey with deliberate slowness. His teeth scraped my ribs, my stomach, marking his territory with a possessive hunger that made rational thought impossible.
"Look at these marks," Juniper said, running a small, warm hand down my chest. "He's claiming you, baby. Making sure everyone knows you belong to us now."
