Menage After Midnight Read Online Free

a treat.” She laughed and wriggled the finger a fraction deeper. “No one has touched you here before have they, Paris? It’s a most pleasurable spot for both a man and a woman. I hope a little later you’ll use your tongue and kiss me there.” Shocked, he stiffened, and she withdrew, only for her nails to then bite into his back. What was she saying? That the talk earlier hadn’t been forgotten? That she still wanted to pursue that course, even with her husband present?
    Jesus! He had to pull back and out of her just to stop himself coming from the notion.
    Still, he couldn’t stand being apart from her for more than the moment it took to give his balls a deft tug. Not when he was already riding this close the edge.
    He grabbed her wrists and pinned them either side of her head before surging into her again.
    “Yes,” she hissed. “More. Paris. More.”
    It was going to be quick. Dear God was it going to be quick, but he could no more stop his hips from working than he could stop the sun rising. Harder— he couldn’t hold on. Faster— pleasure raced along his shaft, and tightened like a cordon around his balls. Harder and faster— Sophia meeting him stroke for stroke, and fighting a little against the strength of his grip around her wrists.
    She was beautiful and she was perfect. “Mmm, come on,” he coaxed her, wanting her body to react to the pleasure at the same time as his. But his hips were already moving of their own volition. He came with a great shuddering release, crying out as her quim continued to milk him long after his world fractured and slowly began to reassemble.
    “I’m sorry.” He gulped. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”
    Sophia laughed, and worked free one of her wrists so that she could muss his hair. “I told you that you needed to come. You’re far more relaxed now. The second will be all the better for it. Perhaps the best one yet.”
    With her he could actually believe that. Normally, the second was a god-awful chore.
    Paris reached down and circled her clit with his thumb. It was taut and ripe as a berry, peeping out from its protective hood eager for some attention She whimpered at the touch, looked up at him and then at her husband.
    “Let me suck you, dearest.” Sophia twisted beneath Paris, so that although their bodies remained locked, she lay first upon her side and then upon her stomach. She led Paris up the bed a little way until she knelt perfectly aligned with Lovich’s loins, whereupon she raised her head and took her husband’s cock full into her delicate mouth.
    Damn him to hell for it, but watching her pink lips stretch around Lovich’s cock tore a strangled gasp of appreciation from Paris’s throat. When he’d accepted her invitation, he’d never for a moment anticipated this was where it would lead. Yes, he’d wanted her, but he’d imagined her largely unskilled and ill content, her apparently blissful marriage surely nothing more than the sham so many others were. But seeing her now, this was one marriage that was surely built upon mutual contentment, which made it doubly odd that he should be here at all.
    “Paris,” she moaned, taking a moment to catch a breath. “Where are you, my lover? Come, stroke me. Join us.”
    Since his loins were already pressed as close to hers as it was possible to get, it took no leap of intelligence to add it all up. She wasn’t inviting his touch but rather entreating him to join her in pleasuring her husband. The talk of sodomy—huh, well, it all made sense now, sort of. Actually the concept wound knots inside his guts. Of course, he could revolt, flee the chamber and risk future ridicule and maybe damage to his purse, or he could be realistic about who and what he was and exactly how much he really wanted to stay here with Sophia.
    It wasn’t as if he found Lovich repulsive by any means. He’d been drawn to his company in other ways in the past. The man exuded easy confidence and had a keen political