Kara lifted off me with a wet, sucking sound that cut through the room's noise, and for a second I felt the cool air on my cock where her heat had been. She was gleaming in the amber lamplight, her thighs slick, her dark bob stuck to her temples, and she dropped onto her back beside me with a satisfied sigh that she made sure the whole room heard.

"Fair's fair," she said, and her hand found my chest, pushing me gently toward the cushions. "You're not done, are you?"

Before I could answer, Rachel's hand closed around my hip. Her fingers dug in—not tentative, not asking. She pulled me up off the couch, and I went, my knees finding the velvet as she guided me down again between them. The sundress was already bunched around her waist, and when she turned, settling onto all fours beside Kara, I saw the dark patch on the thin cotton where she'd been wet since before I'd even touched her.

"He's not done," Rachel said, and it wasn't a question. She looked back at me over her shoulder, those blue eyes bright in the lamp glow. "Are you?"

The room had gone quiet around the edges, the way it does when everyone's holding their breath. Then Hal's laugh boomed out, and the spell broke.

"There he is," Hal said, settling deeper into his armchair, his belt already loose. "The man of the hour. Two at once, Xavier. I taught you better than that—don't keep a lady waiting."

I looked at Kara on her back, thighs open, waiting. I looked at Rachel on all fours, her ass raised, her dress bunched. The couch was wide enough for both of them, and the lamp threw just enough light to see everything—the gleam on Kara's skin, the way Rachel's back dipped as she arched.

My hand found Kara's knee first, sliding up her thigh. She shivered, and her legs fell open wider.

"You've had me once tonight," she said, and her voice was low, deliberate. "I want to feel you again. Inside me. While she watches."

Rachel made a sound—half laugh, half something else—and shifted on the cushions. "I'm not watching," she said. "I'm next."

I didn't need to be told twice. I moved over Kara, my cock already hard again, slick from her, and when I pushed into her, she gasped and her back arched off the velvet. She was still open from before, still wet, and I sank into her in one slow, deliberate thrust that made her grab my shoulders and pull me down against her.

"Fuck," she breathed, her mouth against my ear. "Yes. Like that."

I set a rhythm, slow at first, letting her feel every inch of me dragging against her walls. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back, and she matched me, rolling her hips to take me deeper. The couch creaked under us, a steady, rhythmic complaint.

"Look at her," someone said—Derek's voice, sharp with amusement. "She's been waiting all night for this."

"Haven't we all," Gina added, and I heard the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of her shifting on the armchair across the room. I didn't look. I couldn't. Kara's eyes were on mine, and she was biting her lip, and the way she was looking at me made me want to stay inside her forever.

"Don't you dare come yet," she whispered, and her nails raked down my back. "Not until I say."

I laughed—I couldn't help it—and she smiled at me, a sharp, wicked smile that was all teeth and hunger. She was beautiful like this, her composure stripped away, her dark hair spread across the velvet, her skin flushed and damp.

"You think you're in charge?" I asked, and I pulled out of her, slow, until just the tip was still inside.

Her eyes went wide. "Don't you—"

I pushed back in, hard, and she cried out, her head falling back against the cushion. "I'm in charge," I said. "You're just the one I'm fucking."

Her laugh was breathless, broken. "Fine. Fuck me, then. Fuck me like you mean it."

I did. I set a harder pace, my hips slapping against hers, the wet sound of my cock sliding into her filling the room. The men had stopped pretending to play cards—they'd abandoned the table entirely, their chairs turned to face the couch, their hands moving in their laps. I heard Tommy's sharp intake of breath, and I glanced over just long enough to see him stroking himself, his glasses fogged, his eyes fixed on the two of us.

Ethan was beside him, his jaw clenched, his hand moving in the same rhythm. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Kara—his wife, spread open beneath me, her legs wrapped around my waist, her mouth open in a moan that she made sure he could hear.

"That's it," Ethan said, and his voice was rough, barely a whisper. "That's it."

Tommy didn't say anything. He just stroked, faster, his eyes wide behind his glasses, and I saw the wet spot spreading on his trousers before he even came.

"Jesus, Tommy," Marcus drawled from his corner, his cigar forgotten in the ashtray. "You're going to ruin those pants before the show's even started."

Tommy's face flushed, but he didn't stop. He didn't look away. He just kept stroking, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and when he came, he bit down on his own fist to keep from crying out.

"Attaboy," Derek said, and the room laughed—a low, cruel, appreciative sound that made Tommy's flush deepen.

Kara's hand found my face, turning me back to her. Her eyes were bright, her lips parted, and she pulled me down into a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, her hips grinding against mine.

"Don't watch them," she said against my mouth. "Watch me. Feel me. You're inside me, Xavier. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

I didn't. I couldn't. Her cunt was hot and tight around me, clenching with every thrust, and she was making these small, desperate sounds that went straight to my cock. I wanted to stay here forever, buried inside her, feeling her come apart around me.

But Rachel was still there, on all fours beside us, and I could feel her eyes on me, watching every move I made.

"Don't forget about me," she said, and her voice was soft, almost shy, but there was a heat in it that made my cock twitch. "I've been waiting too."

I pulled out of Kara, and she made a sound that was half protest, half understanding. Her thighs stayed open, glistening, and she watched me move to Rachel with a hungry, appreciative look.

"Go on," Kara said. "I'll be here when you're done."

Rachel's hand found my hip before I'd even settled behind her, guiding me to her entrance. She was soaked—her cunt was dripping, slick all the way down her thighs, and when I pushed into her, she let out a long, shuddering breath that was almost a sob.

"Oh," she said, and her head dropped forward, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. "Oh, yes."

She was different from Kara—tighter, hotter, and she clenched around me like she was trying to pull me deeper. I grabbed her hips and set a rhythm, slow and deep, and she pushed back against me, meeting every thrust.

"That's it," I said, my voice low in her ear. "Take it. Take all of it."

She whimpered, and her back arched, and I felt her cunt flutter around me. "I want you to come inside me," she said, and her voice was breathless, desperate. "Please. I want to feel you fill me up."

The room had gone quiet again, save for the wet sound of my cock sliding into her and the men's ragged breathing. I looked over at Tommy, and he was frozen, his hand still wrapped around his cock, his eyes wide and fixed on his wife's face as she took me.

"Look at him," Derek said, low and cruel. "He's already spent, and she's still going."

Tommy's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. He didn't move. He just watched, his hand moving again, slow and mechanical, as if he couldn't stop himself.

"You like watching your wife get fucked, Tommy?" Ethan asked, and his voice was tight, bitter. "You like seeing her take another man's cock?"

Tommy didn't answer. He just kept stroking, his eyes fixed on Rachel, and I saw the shudder run through him as he came again, silent and helpless.

"Two for two," Marcus said, and there was a ripple of laughter through the room. "Somebody get the man a medal."

I kept fucking Rachel, my pace building, and she was making these small, desperate sounds that were driving me insane. Her cunt was clenching around me, tighter and tighter, and I could feel my own climax building, coiling low in my gut.

"I'm close," she gasped. "Xavier, I'm so close—"

"Hold it," I said, and my hand found the back of her neck, pressing her down into the cushions. "Not yet."

She whimpered, but she obeyed, her body trembling beneath me. I kept thrusting, slow and deep, feeling her clench around me, feeling her hold herself on the edge.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, Xavier, I can't—"

"You can," I said. "You will. You'll come when I tell you to."

She nodded, her face pressed into the velvet, and I felt her whole body shudder. I pulled out of her—just for a second, just long enough to feel the cool air on my cock—and then I pushed back in, hard, and she cried out.

"Now," I said. "Come for me, Rachel."

She did. She came with a broken, desperate moan, her cunt clenching around me so tight I could barely move, and I let go, burying myself deep inside her and coming with a shudder that shook my whole body. I felt her milk me, felt every pulse of her orgasm drawing me deeper, and when I finally pulled out, I was still hard, slick with her, and the room was cheering.

I turned to Kara, still waiting on her back, her thighs open, her eyes bright in the amber lamplight. She reached for me, her hand closing around my slick cock, and pulled me toward her.

"My turn," she said.

Her fingers tightened around me, slick with Rachel's wetness, and she guided me to her entrance like she was fitting a key to a lock she'd been waiting all night to open. I pushed in, and the sound she made was different from before—lower, hungrier, a sound that came from somewhere deep in her chest. She was still open from earlier, still slick, and I sank into her with a single, smooth thrust that made her eyes roll back and her hands find my hips, pulling me deeper.

"That's it," she breathed, and her voice was rough, almost raw. "God, Xavier. That's it. Don't stop."

I didn't. I set a rhythm that was slower than before, more deliberate, letting her feel every inch of me dragging against her walls. She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me down against her, her mouth finding mine in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. Her hands were in my hair, gripping, pulling, and she made these small, desperate sounds against my lips that went straight to my cock.

"Look at him," Derek said from somewhere behind me, his voice sharp with amusement. "He's got two of them on that couch and he's still going like he's got something to prove."

"Let him prove it," Gina said, and I heard the soft, rhythmic sound of her hand moving between her thighs. "God knows he's got the stamina for it."

Kara laughed against my mouth, a breathless, broken sound. "You hear that?" she asked. "You've got an audience. Don't disappoint them."

"I don't plan to," I said, and I shifted my weight, driving deeper into her. She gasped, her back arching off the velvet, and her nails raked down my shoulders.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Yes. Like that. Don't you dare stop."

Rachel's hand found my hip, her fingers digging in, and I felt her press against my side, her body warm and damp against mine. She was watching, her eyes bright in the lamplight, her lips parted, and her hand was between her thighs, moving in a slow, steady rhythm as she watched me fuck her friend's wife.

"She feels good, doesn't she?" Rachel asked, and her voice was soft, almost dreamy. "I can tell. I can see it in the way you move."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Kara's cunt was clenching around me, tighter and tighter, and I was losing myself in the heat of her, in the sound of her breathless moans, in the way her legs tightened around my waist with every thrust.

"Don't come yet," she whispered, and her eyes were bright, almost feverish. "Not yet. I want to feel you—"

"I know," I said, and I slowed, pulling out until just the tip was inside her. She whimpered, her hips chasing me, and I held there, feeling her pulse around me, feeling her desperate need. "I know what you want."

I held there, just the crown of my cock pressed against her opening, and I could feel her pulse through the head of it—fast, frantic, a heartbeat that matched the one drumming in my own chest. Her thighs were trembling around my waist, and her hands had fisted in the velvet cushions, knuckles white. She was waiting. They were all waiting—the room had gone so quiet I could hear the lamp's faint buzz, could hear Gina's shallow breathing from the armchair, could hear the wet, rhythmic sound of someone's fist working their cock.

"Please," Kara whispered, and her voice cracked on the word. "Xavier. Please."

And I gave it to her.

I pushed in slow, so slow I felt every inch of her open around me, felt the slick heat of her pull me deeper, felt her walls ripple and clench as she took me all the way to the hilt. Her head fell back, and the sound she made was raw and broken, a moan that came from somewhere she'd never let anyone see. Her legs locked around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back, and she pulled me down against her, her mouth finding mine in a kiss that was all desperation and teeth.

"Yes," she breathed against my lips. "God, yes. That's it. That's—"

I didn't let her finish. I set a pace that was hard and deep, my hips slapping against hers, the wet sound of my cock plunging into her filling the room. Her nails raked down my back, and I felt the sting, felt the heat of it, and it only made me fuck her harder. She was gasping, crying out, her body arching off the velvet with every thrust, and I could feel her cunt fluttering around me, feel her teetering on the edge.

"Not yet," I said, and my hand found her throat, just a light press, just enough to make her eyes fly open and lock on mine. "You come when I say."

She nodded, her lips parted, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Her eyes were wet, bright with something that wasn't just arousal—something raw and unguarded that made my chest tighten. I kept thrusting, slow and deep, and I felt her body obeying me, felt her holding herself on the edge, felt the tremors running through her thighs.

"Look at them," Derek said from somewhere behind me, his voice low and reverent. "Look at her. She's his."

"And Tommy's wife," Marcus added, and there was a dark amusement in his voice. "Two of them. And they're both his."

I glanced over just long enough to see Tommy and Ethan side by side, their hands moving in matching rhythm, their eyes fixed on the two women. Tommy's face was flushed, his glasses askew, and he was stroking himself with a desperate, mechanical urgency that made the other men laugh. Ethan was quieter, his jaw clenched, his hand moving slower, more deliberate, his eyes burning holes into the sight of his wife beneath me.

"You're almost there, Ethan," Hal called out, his voice booming with good cheer. "Don't hold back on our account. Let her hear you."

Ethan didn't answer. He just stroked, faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and I saw the shudder run through him as he came, silent and violent, his cum splattering on the floor between his feet. Tommy followed a second later, a broken, helpless sound escaping his throat as he spilled over his fist.

"Two for two," Derek said, and the room laughed. "Gentlemen, I think we've found our champions."

I didn't have time to laugh. Kara's cunt was clenching around me, tighter and tighter, and I felt my own climax building, coiling low in my gut like a fist. I drove into her, hard, and she cried out, her body arching off the couch, her hands gripping my shoulders.

"Now," I said, my voice rough. "Come for me, Kara."

She came the instant I said it, her whole body seizing beneath me, her cunt clamping down in waves that pulled me so deep I felt her heartbeat through my cock. Her mouth opened on a sound that wasn't quite a scream, wasn't quite a sob, and her heels drove into my lower back, locking me inside her, holding me there as her orgasm rippled and clenched and refused to let go. I watched her face—watched the way her eyes went wide, the way her lips shaped my name without quite saying it, the way her composure shattered into something raw and honest—and I felt my own release cresting, a pressure building at the base of my spine that I'd been holding back all night.

I let it go. I buried myself as deep as I could get and came inside her with a groan that tore out of my throat, my hips grinding against hers as I emptied myself in long, shuddering pulses. She felt it—I knew she felt it, because her legs tightened around my waist and her nails bit into my shoulders and she made this small, broken sound against my ear that was half pleasure, half something I couldn't name. I stayed there, buried to the hilt, feeling her milk me, feeling her cunt flutter and clench with every pulse of my release, and for a long moment there was nothing else in the world but the heat of her and the sound of our breathing and the wet, rhythmic clasp of her body drawing me deeper.