I Spy a Dark Obsession

“Goddamn, he’s tight. So fucking perfect, so beautiful. How could anyone not want to snatch him up, keep him forever?”

Emma’s reply was lost as the man rammed into him without mercy. Fucked him hard, fast, and deep, heavy balls slapping against his ass.

“Please,” he begged. “I need to come! ”

“I need to come, sir.”

“Please let me come, sir!”

“Soon,” the man growled, never ceasing his pace. A few more powerful thrusts and the Dom stiffened, plunging deep, cock jerking.

Heat filled Bastian’s ass as his own cock stabbed the air, seeking release. At last, Blaze eased out of him and began to undo the leather strap, freeing him. Tossing it aside and gripping Bastian’s cock, he said, “Come for me.”

With a cry, he spasmed. Pumped ropes of pearly cream onto his own abdomen as Blaze fisted his shaft. Milked him of every drop. When the last of the shudders faded, his eyes drifted closed. He was so heavy, melted. Couldn’t move if he wanted to.

“Poor baby is exhausted,” Emma said, kissing his cheek.

“He’s dealt with too much these past few weeks. I think he needed this, and that it helped him at least a little.”

Bastian tried to agree that it had, but his lips refused to work.

“Can we keep him?”

“I wish, angel,” Blaze said. “But his heart belongs to someone else.”

“I know.” She sighed.

He couldn’t stay awake, but the real regret in their voices brought him a measure of peace and warmth as he fell into his dreams.

The limo wove through the streets toward Katrina’s condo at a sedate crawl. Michael’s mind churned, thoughts tumbling one after the other.

You know I love you.

When you stop running, I’ll be here. Just like I always have been.

And then he’d gone home with Blaze and Emma. To get his ass reamed again, as his friend put it. Sure, the very night of the shooting, Michael had figured out that Bastian had been with the experienced Dom. But tonight was different. Tonight he’d gone with the couple to escape from Michael.

And that knowledge caused a strange, terrible ache in his chest.

“How long have you loved him?”

Michael started and peered at Katrina, who was seated next to him. There was no sense in pretending he didn’t know who she was talking about. “I don’t love him, except as my best friend.”

“Right. That’s why you look like you’ve just lost that best friend for good,” she said softly.

“He’s a grown man and can do as he likes, and so can I. We don’t hold each other back. We’re solid.”

“Michael—”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he snapped. Instantly, he regretted being short with her, and relented. “Look, I know you’re concerned and only trying to help. So I will say that I know how Bastian feels, and he knows I can’t return his affections in the way he’d like.”

God, that sounded cold.

“Can’t you? Your reaction when he left with Blaze and Emma communicated something very different. Frankly, you looked like he’d just punched you.”

He’d felt like it, too. But he didn’t acknowledge it aloud.

“Well, he wasn’t very nice about it. He was deliberately trying to get a rise out of me.” That was the truth, though he knew he was avoiding the issue. Bastian had been cruel because he was lashing out in pain. I deserved it.

“He knew we were together, and he was hurt. You can’t imagine how guilty I feel for adding to his misery. I like Bastian… a lot.”

Something wistful in her tone caused him to study her face more closely. “You say that like you mean it more than as casual acquaintances.”

She was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I do. You should know I’m extremely attracted to him as well as to you. Actually, we almost had sex recently, but we got interrupted,” she confessed. “And I’m not certain what, if anything, to do about it.”

Christ. He wasn’t sure what part of that to tackle first. She’d almost had sex with Bastian? And she was attracted to both of them? Curiosity about her last thought got the better of him. “What would you do about it, if you could?”

Instead of answering directly, she countered with a question. “Have you ever been in a menage relationship?”

His lips turned up. “I’ve had three-ways, but never anything resembling a relationship. And definitely not with another man involved.”

“Even Bastian, your best friend?”

“Of course not,” he said warily. “Why would I?”

“But you’ve known him for years, and you two are close.”

“Yes. What’s your point?”

She turned in her seat to face him, warming to the topic. “It just seems that two sexually charged men who’ve shared a big part of their lives together would have, at some point, shared a woman. Especially since you two are obviously close.”

“Well, I’m not comfortable with the thought of being… in a sexual situation with Bastian,” he said defensively.

“Exactly. And why is that, I wonder?” She sounded satisfied, as though he’d made her point.

He stared at her in the dark interior of the car, processing what she meant. “You’re implying I’ve avoided having a menage with Bastian because I’m afraid I’ll develop feelings for him.”

“Or you’re afraid the feelings you already have, the ones you keep under lock and key, will out themselves.”

“That’s ridiculous.” But the protest had sprung from his lips too easily, and his voice had wavered. His heart pounded and his palms felt clammy. “Anyway, what are you trying to get at? You want a menage with me and Bastian?”

Her voice lowered, her reply husky. “Would you be willing to consider the idea if I did?”

“I don’t—” He started to refuse. What stopped him, he wasn’t sure.

Taking advantage of his lapse, she scooted close, reached out, and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m a pretty direct person and I’m used to just coming right out with what I want or feel. Yes, I want to be with both of you at the same time.”

Even though he’d braced himself for the words, they still knocked him for a loop. “You — you want a menage with us.”

“Yes.” Her smile was wicked, those gorgeous eyes sparkling, her touch searing him as her hand moved south. Down his belly to his crotch and the hardness that had come back to life there. “Picture me naked between you. Me, on my hands and knees, sucking his cock while I take yours from behind.”

“God,” he rasped. He could picture it just the way she described. Her pretty lips stretched around his friend’s shaft, wild red hair tumbling around her shoulders, Michael pumping her with long, glorious strokes.

Still rubbing his erection through his jeans, she leaned over and nibbled on his jaw. Kissed his temple. “Tell me where’s the harm in three people enjoying each other, Michael. I think Bastian would be game, and part of you is very much willing.”

Two orgasms tonight and his cock throbbed like he hadn’t had sex in a week. The picture she’d painted fired his blood and his imagination.

“You wouldn’t even have to touch him if you don’t want to,” she continued. “Many menage relationships work just fine without the men having sex.”