9

Meanwhile

Max Perron stood in the shower behind Oriana, loving the dreamy look on his wife’s face as she gazed up into his eyes. That was all he needed to see to know tonight would go well. To be perfectly honest, he’d been nervous at first, but there was something erotic about setting up a scene that gave the two most important people in his life exactly what they needed.

He enjoyed watching the scenes between her and Sloan, but sometimes he was torn between his desire to watch and his need to participate in their pleasure. He hadn’t been sure he’d be of much use this time, but Sloan insisted that he make sure to get Oriana nice and clean while other preparations were made.

The intense focus in Sloan’s expression as he’d pulled out his knife kit was enough to make the hairs rise on the back of Max’s neck. And blood to pulse steadily into his cock as he considered how fucking hot the whole scenario would be.

He took a deep breath as he cupped his hand to fill his palm with the coconut- and vanilla-scented shampoo. The sweet aroma rose in the steam as he worked it through Oriana’s waist length, burnished gold hair. He massaged her scalp, loving how routine intimate moments like this had become over the years. Sex had never been an issue for them, but his biggest fear in their unconventional relationship had been that the little things he enjoyed doing with her would seem boring.

Instead, it was the little things that she craved when life got rough. Yes, she enjoyed a high level of pain when they played, and she found peace in submitting to him and Sloan. But cuddling on the couch, having her hair washed or brushed, soft kisses, and holding hands while walking down the street, were all she needed to make her smile and laugh when she was on the verge of tears.

Casual affection was a bit harder for Sloan, but he did his best. His efforts were appreciated, but Oriana had told Max once that so long as she had one of her men who showed tenderness easily, she’d never feel like their relationship was lacking.

Which made him happy. And yet…hell, he couldn’t even explain why it still bothered him that he had to step in after every edgy scene to ease Oriana back to level ground. Sloan was capable enough in providing aftercare, but there was a jarring disconnect in the way he tended to their girl. Almost as if he’d gone so far into himself that he had trouble coming back.

Max suspected Sloan could use some aftercare himself, even if it was just to snuggle and hear he wasn’t fucked up for wanting to hurt the woman he loved. Not when it satisfied them both and he was so goddamn careful with her.

“Max?” Oriana glanced over her shoulder, putting a hand over the one he’d rested on her shoulder while drifting away in thought. “Are you okay? I lost you there for a little bit.”

He smiled and grabbed the showerhead to rinse her hair. “I’m fine, love. Just thinking about the scene.”

She inhaled roughly, closing her eyes to keep the soap out of them. “In a good way? You’re not worried, are you?”

He wasn’t worried about the scene itself, but he took his time answering. Sloan had mentored with an experienced knife Top for almost a year. He’d renewed his first aid certificate. He’d done everything a responsible Dom could possibly do to make a potentially dangerous scene safe.

But preparing emotionally for a scene that could hit unexpected triggers for the Dom and the sub? There was no course for that. One could prepare for every imaginable outcome and still be blindsided.

Using a washcloth, he wiped away the suds on Oriana’s face so she could open her eyes. “I always worry, but it’s not a bad thing. Nothing pleases me more than you both exploring all your twisted kinks.”

“But?”

“But I never know if I’m doing enough. During the scene…and after.” He gave her a crooked smile and shrugged as he soaped up the sea sponge to wash her beautiful body. “I hope you’ll let me know if I’m not.”

“I will. But I don’t see it happening.” She squirmed as he washed her breasts, then giggled as he scrubbed over her ribs and the luscious swell of her belly and hips. A soft sound of pleasure left her as he moved in closer and pressed the sponge between her thighs. “You never miss anything, Max. Even when you’re not touching me, just feeling your eyes on me makes me feel…” She pressed her hand to his cheek and smiled at him. “I’ve seen the girls you were with in the past. They were skinny and perfect. I used to wonder why you’d even want me, but not anymore. I don’t see a chubby woman when I look in the mirror. I see the woman you can’t take your eyes off of.”

“Good. Because I’ll take the whip to you myself if you dare compare yourself to anyone.” He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her wet lips, putting his misgivings aside so he could lose himself in the moment.

Some might assume sharing his wife with another man would make him jealous, or bitter, but he found that it made him appreciate times like this in a way he might not if he had her all to himself. He could be wrong; he didn’t have much experience not sharing a woman. And yet, he wouldn’t change a single thing.

Helping Oriana step out of the shower, Max drew her close and claimed her lips again, not caring that they were both dripping water all over the floor. He’d take care of the mess later—or perhaps make Oriana do it since Sloan often accused him of being too easy on her. For now though, he simply wanted to drink in her excitement. And hold her one last time before she floated away in ecstasy.

She gave him a playful look as he grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist before opening the door that led into the master bedroom. “Speaking of whipping, I noticed you couldn’t take your eyes off Sebastian and Luke at the club. Even after Sebastian put the whip away.”

Max blinked, thinking back on their last visit to the club and wondering what she was getting at. She knew he got off watching people fuck. He wasn’t picky about who he watched, and she’d never complained before.

“Does it bother you?” If it did, he’d stop. He just hadn’t considered that giving in to his urges as a voyeur might become an issue.

Standing by the bed, Sloan snapped on a pair of sterile gloves from the large first aid kit on the nightstand and let out a soft chuckle. “I do believe she’s noticed you’re just as interested in watching the men being fucked as the women.”

“I…” Max frowned as he realized his focus had shifted. He’d never had a problem with who was getting off, but the soft body of a woman had always been more appealing. Lately there was a greater variety at the club, and he was drawn to the passion laid out before him.

“It’s not a big deal, my love.” Oriana came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I enjoy watching them too. Sometimes I wonder…”

Her voice trailed off and Max looked over his shoulder, eager to know what had her blushing and biting her lip. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

She ducked her head and pressed her cheek to his back. “Never mind.”

Max frowned. “Pet, you—”

“Does she need to spell it out, Max? She gets nice and wet seeing two guys together. Seems like her sister is living every woman’s fantasy.” Sloan rolled his eyes as Max’s brow furrowed. “She wants to be able to watch more often.”

All right, he didn’t see a problem with that. Max grinned as he pulled Oriana in front of him so he could go back to kissing her sweet lips. She wouldn’t be able to squirm once Sloan started playing with her, so Max would enjoy making her do so now.

And tease her a little with her kinky needs, which meshed well with his own. “The guys who go to the club don’t mind an audience. I’ll make sure you’ve got the perfect view next time we go. Carter might like it rough like you, but you should see how Zovko and Chicklet torment Vanek. It would amuse Chicklet to have your eyes on them while I toy with you.”

Sloan snorted as he lifted a dagger from the array of sharp implements he’d sterilized and lined up on a raised tray by the bed. “Probably, but Oriana would much prefer watching me fuck you.”

With an involuntary shudder, Max shot Sloan a dirty look. “You’re crazier than a shithouse mouse.”

“And sometimes you make White look like a rocket scientist. Not sure how many different ways you needed her dirty dream scenario explained to you.” Sloan tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully with the tip of the dagger, his lips slanting in a smirk. “From the expression on your face, you were willing to give her whatever her heart desired. Did that change, Romeo?”

What kind of question was that? Max stifled the urge to swallow, fully aware that Sloan was in the dark headspace where any discomfort he caused would satiate him. And Max refused to give the man the upper hand.

So he shrugged. “I don’t deny our beautiful wife very much.”

“Fuck off.” Sloan’s eyes narrowed at Max’s level gaze. “Are you serious?”

“If I am?”

It was Sloan who swallowed before quickly shaking his head. “I couldn’t… Hell, you’re like a brother to me. Cutting you when you wanted to see how it would feel was almost too much. I won’t judge you if you wanted to try—”

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I was with another man?” Max ran his fingers up the underside of Oriana’s arm, never taking his eyes off Sloan. “Reckon that would be good enough for our girl.”

The muscle in Sloan’s jaw ticked. “Guess that would be fine.”

Max kissed along Oriana’s throat. “We’ve both agreed she can only be shared between us, so she wouldn’t participate.”

Oriana let out an irritated sound. “She is right here.”

Sloan ignored her. “We agreed the three of us were committed to this relationship.”