Page 128 of Stolen Faith
So their sexual exploits thus far had been limited to blowjobs, sixty-nines-plus-one, reverse cowgirl, and what Brennon had dubbed “show-and-tell” sex, which consisted of Rowan sitting in a chair next to the bed, directing Izabel and Brennon’s lovemaking while he played voyeur. Rowan would tell them what to do and his sexy spouses would give him one hell of a show. They’d brought more than a few of his hottest fantasies to life, Rowan’s commands getting racier each time they played.
Izabel and Brennon had indulged in spanking, withholding orgasms, and experimenting with sex toys. One night, they’d discussed bondage, and while Izabel hadn’t been comfortable trying it after their time in the cabin, Brennon had been all in, allowing Izabel to tie him up. She’d followed Rowan’s commands to the letter, the two of them driving their lover to what Brennon swore was the best orgasm of his life.
Rowan had assured them—especially the last couple of weeks—that he was capable of doing more, but his words had fallen on deaf ears. While the orgasms had been amazing, his frustration had grown with each encounter as he’d been forced to hold back, his body and his stubborn spouses refusing to let him fuck them the way he longed to.
Two days ago, Rowan had gotten a clean bill of health, but Izabel had insisted they spend the nights before their wedding apart, saving themselves for the honeymoon.
She’d remained at her parents’ house, while he and Brennon had stayed here in the suite…in separate rooms.
“Not thirsty?” Brennon asked, winking at him.
Rowan didn’t answer the question. Instead, he raised his hand and pointed down the hall. “Bedroom. Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Izabel and Brennon exchanged an amused glance.
“Looks like someone is feeling better,” Izabel mused, as the two of them turned together, leading the way to the bedroom.
Rowan was hot on their heels, fighting to overcome his impatience.
Six weeks. He’d been laid up for six weeks, forced to remain on his back while Izabel and Brennon took him into their mouths and Izabel into her pussy. And while he’d loved every second the three of them were together, he had chafed at the bit as well. He’d had too much time to imagine all the things he wanted to do to them.
Once they entered the bedroom, he stepped behind Izabel, kissing her shoulder. “You look beautiful,” Rowan murmured in her ear, before looking at the dress. “How does it come off?”
Izabel laughed, then twisted, showing him the side zipper as she pulled it down. She wasted no time slipping it off one arm and then the other, allowing the silky material to drop to the ground. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
Rowan had been struck by Izabel’s elegance the first time they’d met. Initially, he’d been intimidated by it, but tonight…fuck him. She was confident, sexy, and so fucking stunning, as she stood before them in nothing but a thong.
Brennon trailed his fingers down her arm to her hip as he looked his fill. “My wife,” he murmured.
“Our wife,” Rowan corrected, nodding his head toward Brennon. “Your turn. Take off the monkey suit, husband.”
“So demanding,” Brennon retorted, even as he tugged at his bow tie, pulling it off. “I like it.”
“Good. Because things change tonight.”
Brennon had admitted that he loved Rowan’s take-charge attitude a couple of weeks earlier, completely open about his submissive tendencies.
“Told you he wasn’t a bottom,” Brennon said to Izabel, who gave Rowan a seductive smile.
“Lucky us.”
“If I’m never the bottom again, it’ll be too damn soon.”
Brennon stripped, but once he’d kicked off his pants, Izabel stopped him, reaching out to grip the erection tenting his boxer briefs. He groaned.
Rowan watched for a moment before his brain engaged and told him he wasn’t stuck on the sidelines anymore. He untied his bow tie, slipping it from the collar before unbuttoning his shirt. Izabel and Brennon turned their attention to him, watching as he finished taking off his own clothing, his boxers included.
Izabel sucked in a deep breath as her gaze slid down to Rowan’s erection. She squeezed Brennon’s dick through the cotton again.
“I swear to God, I feel like a kid in the candy store,” Brennon admitted. “Now that we can have it all, I fucking want it all. And right now.”
Izabel laughed, but Rowan just nodded…because that was exactly how he felt as well.
“Finish undressing and meet me on the bed.” Rowan walked across the room, pulling the duvet down before sinking down onto the edge of the mattress. Just like in Izabel’s condo, the Boston Park Plaza had included an Alaskan King in their honeymoon suite, which made sense since the room was permanently reserved for the Trinity Masters.
Rowan casually opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out the lube and condoms he’d put there earlier.