![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
justprompts: Careful
Feb. 10th, 2009 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fast_maxWarning: three-way explicit sexual content behind the cut. Stephen is delamarck, and Solace is dumornes_sol. Oh, and it's ~3000 words, so, click at your own risk!
It wasn't like that was the first time they'd invited him to go clubbing with the two of them. In fact, if a bit less so than the occasional drinks after work with Stephen (it turned out it was easier on both of them if they actually went together, rather than finding each other by hitting on the same woman - after the third time it had happened. Back before Stephen got married and the hitting started being done... well, differently), it was turning into a habitual thing, in fact. Get a place that's decent, find a booth that was away from the most sensitive technology. Relax.
Occasionally, in no time at all they would be, all three of them, in the heart of a small but loud, intense party of their own, drawn in by the good looks of all three, the free drinks, the constant talking that Max could provide. Or just the willingness for good times, quietly expensive style. Then they could take their pick - sometimes Sol and Stephen did, sometimes they didn't. Same for Max. If they did, they'd slip away quietly, then the remaining party would remain as long as desired and leave too.
Other times, they'd just be there, dancing, relaxing. Talking of things that didn't have work in them, either Archer Imports', or Solace's, or even the White Council's. Just things. Each with a drink of choice (Sol had emphatically, if coolly, put her foot down on drinking contests after the first one - so they kept those for the bar nights, and rarer and rarer too, at that. Competition and partnership had turned into a tentative, but undeniable friendship. And that was good). Each with the willingness to spend some time like this, the loud music (or noise, depending on the place) vibing through their bodies, in its own way cleansing. Numbing, almost, but not quite.
Like that night. The three of them, sitting just far enough from the loudspeaker to be able to kind of sort of hear each other. Except that for a moment, Sol and Stephen were making out (quite a treat for sore eyes as it was, too) and Max was lounging back in his seat, close enough to be alerted if they wanted to tell him something, but not quite close enough to intrude. His look slid away from his two companions and out onto the dance floor for a moment - half scanning the perimeter, professionally, half scanning the selection... just in case. (Which he'd never allow himself while fully at work, but he could, now. As long as he didn't neglect the first part.)
And then suddenly Solace's kiss-warmed lips were on his, her fit body pressed against his and her hand sliding along his leg, firmly, gently, knowingly, into a snog which was... quite not something to miss.
She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be, and that much he could register so that he didn't pull away from the kiss, and it only took a moment to become good enough for him to not want to pull away. And then her fingers were deftly moving up... and lingering, and his head rolled back with a quiet groan. A deep breath, lips parted. Oh yes, he was enjoying this and then some. But still...
"I wasn't aware you were quite so attracted to me?" Arched brow. Husky voice, just a little, but enough to be noticeable even in the loud surroundings.
"We both think that we do find you--" fingers were replaced by the full of her palm, and he stiffened that much faster, "-- quite that attractive." Her tone of voice was just humorous enough (so controlled, how did she always do that?) to assure him she meant it. And Max's eyes shot up to his boss.
Stephen was, apparently, enjoying the sight. From what he had seen, Max guessed that he was liking the effect Solace was having at him - which was, well, undeniable. "Sure about that?"
"Sure." The familiar lilt to the familiar voice held not a hint of tension or doubt. Whatever uncertainties Stephen had once had about Max in his bed, they were either dispelled with the intervening time, or well-enough covered so as not to bother him. Either way, Solace was also acting with his full permission. And support. Of that, Max had no doubt.
And she was acting... working on him quite skillfully. His breath quickened slightly, and he forced himself to relax. Not make anything happen too fast, yes, he did have the vestige of control, even though it was barely held together, because of how unexpected this development was - and how desirable.
"Both, hmm?" He'd seen them pick up girls - women - enough times to know that they definitely did welcome others to their bed. On the other hand, he was pretty sure there hadn't been guys before.
Solace's lips were wet and soft on his ear, and her whispered 'yes' sent a shiver down his spine and made his arms finally move to respond to her motions, large palms warm along her slim, good body. Experience of many years guiding him into caressing the curve of her waist, then up along the side of her ribcage, and lightly gathering the leather of her top to increase its pressure on her breasts. Making her eyes glitter in return and a small approving sound come over from Stephen. Oh yes. We will enjoy this...
"It might be prudent then to get somewhere more private. I doubt this can happen privately enough for here."
"Rushing anything, Max?" This time it was her tongue-tip on his ear, and his body arched against her a little, his breathing harder, faster. "Oh right. Fast Max..."
That got Stephen to chuckle - the sound came closer than Max was expecting, his friend had scooted nearer while Sol was distracting him - and Max rumbled in response, "give me a good place where I can act freely and I'll show you what the 'fast' part comes from." Bed. Floor. Somewhere that they could all relax.
Solace shifted, Stephen's hand had found its way to the small of her back. Max liked the sensation of her motion, which soon drowned into the feeling of another kiss. Deep. Long. When he could take a breath after it, his own hand moved up and down Solace's spine, trying to slow down, to wind down a bit. "My car... or yours?" For this, he suspected it would be the de la Marck residence. With... good reason, considering.
He got faced with a smirk, for that. "Actually... I think right now I'd rather dance." Nimbly, the black-haired woman shifted away from both of them, and the dark and the green eyes followed her with mixed surprise and anticipation. Only she took both their hands and pulled them after her. Slow, close dance - body pressed against body pressed against body. Strange for a few steps, and got a few faces turned at them curiously, then the swaying of Solace between them got both of the men too concentrated on that to notice. When the song was over, they just followed her lead, out to the car. Where she pulled Stephen in turn for some kissing, drawing Max's hands on her body. He didn't need too much in term of hints. His lips found the nape of her neck; his caresses, her hips and thighs while Stephen's grasped her shoulders.
Her pacing... their common pacing was stuttering and odd, but worked surprisingly well. Bursts of movement, then pauses of mutual excitation. Driving. More kissing and caressing just inside the door of the house, the familiar hallway hazy in the increasing warmth. Garments slowly discarded - shoes. Jackets. Some of the jewelery. Max's hand slipped from Solace's breast, the touch of which just so actually made her gasp, to Stephen's shoulder, the side of his neck.
Which was a mistake. He could feel his friend's muscles tighten and his motions lose their fluidity, freezing with the surprise. The difference of the touch, Max guessed. Yes... he had determined to do this... but that didn't mean he was entirely comfortable with it.
He withdrew his hand quickly, and caught Stephen's eyes for a moment, both of them apologetic at the same time, before Solace turned between them, her mouth covering her husband's with a hunger that was familiar, from the observer's point of view, and the response to it was, thankfully, immediate and predictable. Things resumed rolling more smoothly after that - and Max made sure he kept his hands off. From him.
Solace's body, he was definitely welcome to have a free run on. Lips, fingers, tongue, soon enough skin on skin. She was surrendering to the dual stimulation with a familiar abandon, which Stephen took his cues from, and relaxed again, even if once or twice his eyes darkened slightly... not in embarrassment so much as still uncertainty, as clothing was shed and they stood, the three of them together, naked and covered in a sheen of perspiration and ready, and yet hesitant to move on lest somebody did something off...
Which time Max took to enjoy the view.
Solace was, as she'd never been shy in demonstrating, a very beautiful woman. Pale, smooth skin - was that a love-bite under her collarbone? Definitely a sight to see (not to mention that his other senses had tasted enough of her to know that oh yes, while he'd never covet his neighbor's... well, boss's wife? When this offer was made, he wasn't turning it down). And Stephen...
That Max was attracted to him had not been a secret, for a long while now. But like this... Pale olive skin, dark curls, dark eyes. Fit, slim body (glimpsed, in between things in the training room showers, but oh hell that wasn't a place to look over. Let alone stare... appreciatively), wiry more than muscular (but then, that was Max's job, wasn't it? Being the muscle right there when Stephen needed it...). Sculpted. Beautiful. And at an arm's reach...
... almost. Touch didn't help the mood. Maybe Stephen had gotten around the idea of having a man in his bed... but that wasn't quite the same as a man touching him.
Or more.
Or more. For a moment, Max's imagination painted the lithe body that was now facing him, bent over and flushed and writhing in the pleasure that he could give...
... and then Solace was kissing him again, hard, body pressed against his, which even had more of an effect, skin on skin. She must have beckoned to Stephen too, since he heard the ready breathing of his close by as well, on the other side of the woman, could feel him kissing her neck, pressing against her back in return. Body pressed against body pressed against body as when they were dancing, and in a way, they were again dancing, but oh it was different like this. His cock was hard, erect, and rubbing on her glistening skin. Her body swinging sideways, drawing them both with her, till for a bit all that could be heard were hard breaths, wet sounds from lips and tongues on lips and tongues and on skin. Stifled moans as touches were shared. When she had to draw breath, she leaned back against her husband, and each man took to nibbling at one side of her neck, making her body arch and shake between them, lips parting in gasps and more vocal expressions of pleasure. Max's hand slid down, circling a breast, first with barely fingertips, then squeezing gently, then down along the chest, the stomach, the abdomen, and in between the smooth folds between her legs, partly aware that Stephen was almost mirroring the motion along her back, and between their fingers, she was for the first time not fully in control, swaying on her feet between them, moaning. Stephen murmured something in her ear, just when Max's own head was rolling back with the touch of her hand right there, but her breath came out through her teeth in a soft hiss, lips grinning.
Dancing, yes. Now they had each other, and they weren't letting go, each of their bodies too well-trained, too graceful to lose this.
An indeterminate time later, Max and Sol were kneeling on the bed, facing each other, kissing again, the tension hovering right on the edge of being too much because none of them was willing to let go and rush. Stephen pulled Solace's hips back, the coolness of their absence against Max's both thrilling and disappointing. Then her kiss turned almost sharp, and her body tensed, being filled up, arching, breasts pressing against Max's chest. A soft groan of Stephen's. Another coolness as the kiss ended, but her mouth was moving down, over his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He gasped as she nipped, almost bit at his nipple before going on to kiss further back, bending before Stephen's measured but deep thrusts - until her lips wrapped around Max's cock, and he tensed and moaned. Oh she knew what she was doing alright. He drew a deep breath, which sounded way too shuddery for the control he wanted, so he exhaled and tried again, then she did something good with her tongue and his cock twitched helplessly. Through half-closed lids, he could see that Stephen's smile widened at that.
Oh is that it... he does like the effect she has...
Gently, Max gathered Solace's long hair in his fist - not tight. Just so that he could uncover the view better. And then with the next thing she did, he thrust a little. Which got her to purr a little, sending a shudder along his body, urging him to thrust again. And again. In counterpoint to Stephen's movements, so they ended passing her back and forth between them, slow and hard at first, and then gradually faster, soft grunts, moans, groans escaping each of them, mixing. Max's other hand slid along Sol's back, moisture making the motion slick and smooth. Then around, closing his eyes, and touching to cup a breast, his body taking over... not quite out of control yet, but definitely stronger than his want for control.
And then his fingers touched another hand, and his eyes snapped open, though he didn't slow the rhythm. Nor did Stephen, this time, though their eyes met. And Stephen did not withdraw his hand. Eyes on him (the sweat-drenched curls sticking for his forehead. The half-parted lips. The open, hungry eyes), Max carefully, oh so carefully moved his fingers over the back of Stephen's palm. The back of his wrist. Slowly, up the length of his arm, to the elbow, further up.
Stephen's eyes went a little wider, but he didn't stop. Maybe he couldn't, any more than Max could.
Palm on his shoulder - Stephen's head lolled slightly to that side. Soft comment that he was warm, so warm. Increased rhythm even. Palm sliding along the longed-for, smooth chest. Slick and easy motion again. Thumb over a nipple, getting a grunt. Thumb and finger, not quite pinching but close to it, and Stephen's head snapped back, a harder grunt coming out as his hips ground harder, deeper, which made Solace's head roll in turn, which made Max thrust harder, faster. Now going closer to a crest at which control ceased to exist and over which... well. He didn't want to get there ahead of the rest.
He braced his hand, palm flat, against the skin of Stephen's chest, feeling the muscles shift under his skin as he moved, feeling the beads of sweat trickling around his fingers - and didn't loose it too early - barely. And mostly by the grace of the fact that they were there too. Stephen's thrusts became sharper, faster, until Solace's body shuddered, the low, long moan in the depth of her throat adding to her ministrations and tipping Max over as well. Stephen took a few seconds more, and cried out, both hands pressing Solace's hips to his as the finish of it all swept over him too. Max struggled for breath, low groans gasped out between his teeth, until he realized that now he was gripping her hair too tightly and let go. Slowly she let him out of her mouth, and straightened, to lean back against her husband's chest, arms going back around his neck, until he shuddered a last time and sat back on his heels, pulling her with him. Her hand slipped out, cupping Max's cheek fondly.
Somehow, they slithered sideways against the pillows, arms loosely over each other, Stephen still not quite pulling away from Max's touch, though not actively seeking it either.
When he caught his breath, he leaned slightly up to look at his boss. "So... two-blades. You got two swords for your wife. I think she liked that..."
That was how far he got before the pillow slammed into his face - he didn't know which one had done it, but he could hear the laughter of both of them.
... it was well.
delamarck, and Solace is dumornes_sol. Oh, and it's ~3000 words, so, click at your own risk!It wasn't like that was the first time they'd invited him to go clubbing with the two of them. In fact, if a bit less so than the occasional drinks after work with Stephen (it turned out it was easier on both of them if they actually went together, rather than finding each other by hitting on the same woman - after the third time it had happened. Back before Stephen got married and the hitting started being done... well, differently), it was turning into a habitual thing, in fact. Get a place that's decent, find a booth that was away from the most sensitive technology. Relax.
Occasionally, in no time at all they would be, all three of them, in the heart of a small but loud, intense party of their own, drawn in by the good looks of all three, the free drinks, the constant talking that Max could provide. Or just the willingness for good times, quietly expensive style. Then they could take their pick - sometimes Sol and Stephen did, sometimes they didn't. Same for Max. If they did, they'd slip away quietly, then the remaining party would remain as long as desired and leave too.
Other times, they'd just be there, dancing, relaxing. Talking of things that didn't have work in them, either Archer Imports', or Solace's, or even the White Council's. Just things. Each with a drink of choice (Sol had emphatically, if coolly, put her foot down on drinking contests after the first one - so they kept those for the bar nights, and rarer and rarer too, at that. Competition and partnership had turned into a tentative, but undeniable friendship. And that was good). Each with the willingness to spend some time like this, the loud music (or noise, depending on the place) vibing through their bodies, in its own way cleansing. Numbing, almost, but not quite.
Like that night. The three of them, sitting just far enough from the loudspeaker to be able to kind of sort of hear each other. Except that for a moment, Sol and Stephen were making out (quite a treat for sore eyes as it was, too) and Max was lounging back in his seat, close enough to be alerted if they wanted to tell him something, but not quite close enough to intrude. His look slid away from his two companions and out onto the dance floor for a moment - half scanning the perimeter, professionally, half scanning the selection... just in case. (Which he'd never allow himself while fully at work, but he could, now. As long as he didn't neglect the first part.)
And then suddenly Solace's kiss-warmed lips were on his, her fit body pressed against his and her hand sliding along his leg, firmly, gently, knowingly, into a snog which was... quite not something to miss.
She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be, and that much he could register so that he didn't pull away from the kiss, and it only took a moment to become good enough for him to not want to pull away. And then her fingers were deftly moving up... and lingering, and his head rolled back with a quiet groan. A deep breath, lips parted. Oh yes, he was enjoying this and then some. But still...
"I wasn't aware you were quite so attracted to me?" Arched brow. Husky voice, just a little, but enough to be noticeable even in the loud surroundings.
"We both think that we do find you--" fingers were replaced by the full of her palm, and he stiffened that much faster, "-- quite that attractive." Her tone of voice was just humorous enough (so controlled, how did she always do that?) to assure him she meant it. And Max's eyes shot up to his boss.
Stephen was, apparently, enjoying the sight. From what he had seen, Max guessed that he was liking the effect Solace was having at him - which was, well, undeniable. "Sure about that?"
"Sure." The familiar lilt to the familiar voice held not a hint of tension or doubt. Whatever uncertainties Stephen had once had about Max in his bed, they were either dispelled with the intervening time, or well-enough covered so as not to bother him. Either way, Solace was also acting with his full permission. And support. Of that, Max had no doubt.
And she was acting... working on him quite skillfully. His breath quickened slightly, and he forced himself to relax. Not make anything happen too fast, yes, he did have the vestige of control, even though it was barely held together, because of how unexpected this development was - and how desirable.
"Both, hmm?" He'd seen them pick up girls - women - enough times to know that they definitely did welcome others to their bed. On the other hand, he was pretty sure there hadn't been guys before.
Solace's lips were wet and soft on his ear, and her whispered 'yes' sent a shiver down his spine and made his arms finally move to respond to her motions, large palms warm along her slim, good body. Experience of many years guiding him into caressing the curve of her waist, then up along the side of her ribcage, and lightly gathering the leather of her top to increase its pressure on her breasts. Making her eyes glitter in return and a small approving sound come over from Stephen. Oh yes. We will enjoy this...
"It might be prudent then to get somewhere more private. I doubt this can happen privately enough for here."
"Rushing anything, Max?" This time it was her tongue-tip on his ear, and his body arched against her a little, his breathing harder, faster. "Oh right. Fast Max..."
That got Stephen to chuckle - the sound came closer than Max was expecting, his friend had scooted nearer while Sol was distracting him - and Max rumbled in response, "give me a good place where I can act freely and I'll show you what the 'fast' part comes from." Bed. Floor. Somewhere that they could all relax.
Solace shifted, Stephen's hand had found its way to the small of her back. Max liked the sensation of her motion, which soon drowned into the feeling of another kiss. Deep. Long. When he could take a breath after it, his own hand moved up and down Solace's spine, trying to slow down, to wind down a bit. "My car... or yours?" For this, he suspected it would be the de la Marck residence. With... good reason, considering.
He got faced with a smirk, for that. "Actually... I think right now I'd rather dance." Nimbly, the black-haired woman shifted away from both of them, and the dark and the green eyes followed her with mixed surprise and anticipation. Only she took both their hands and pulled them after her. Slow, close dance - body pressed against body pressed against body. Strange for a few steps, and got a few faces turned at them curiously, then the swaying of Solace between them got both of the men too concentrated on that to notice. When the song was over, they just followed her lead, out to the car. Where she pulled Stephen in turn for some kissing, drawing Max's hands on her body. He didn't need too much in term of hints. His lips found the nape of her neck; his caresses, her hips and thighs while Stephen's grasped her shoulders.
Her pacing... their common pacing was stuttering and odd, but worked surprisingly well. Bursts of movement, then pauses of mutual excitation. Driving. More kissing and caressing just inside the door of the house, the familiar hallway hazy in the increasing warmth. Garments slowly discarded - shoes. Jackets. Some of the jewelery. Max's hand slipped from Solace's breast, the touch of which just so actually made her gasp, to Stephen's shoulder, the side of his neck.
Which was a mistake. He could feel his friend's muscles tighten and his motions lose their fluidity, freezing with the surprise. The difference of the touch, Max guessed. Yes... he had determined to do this... but that didn't mean he was entirely comfortable with it.
He withdrew his hand quickly, and caught Stephen's eyes for a moment, both of them apologetic at the same time, before Solace turned between them, her mouth covering her husband's with a hunger that was familiar, from the observer's point of view, and the response to it was, thankfully, immediate and predictable. Things resumed rolling more smoothly after that - and Max made sure he kept his hands off. From him.
Solace's body, he was definitely welcome to have a free run on. Lips, fingers, tongue, soon enough skin on skin. She was surrendering to the dual stimulation with a familiar abandon, which Stephen took his cues from, and relaxed again, even if once or twice his eyes darkened slightly... not in embarrassment so much as still uncertainty, as clothing was shed and they stood, the three of them together, naked and covered in a sheen of perspiration and ready, and yet hesitant to move on lest somebody did something off...
Which time Max took to enjoy the view.
Solace was, as she'd never been shy in demonstrating, a very beautiful woman. Pale, smooth skin - was that a love-bite under her collarbone? Definitely a sight to see (not to mention that his other senses had tasted enough of her to know that oh yes, while he'd never covet his neighbor's... well, boss's wife? When this offer was made, he wasn't turning it down). And Stephen...
That Max was attracted to him had not been a secret, for a long while now. But like this... Pale olive skin, dark curls, dark eyes. Fit, slim body (glimpsed, in between things in the training room showers, but oh hell that wasn't a place to look over. Let alone stare... appreciatively), wiry more than muscular (but then, that was Max's job, wasn't it? Being the muscle right there when Stephen needed it...). Sculpted. Beautiful. And at an arm's reach...
... almost. Touch didn't help the mood. Maybe Stephen had gotten around the idea of having a man in his bed... but that wasn't quite the same as a man touching him.
Or more.
Or more. For a moment, Max's imagination painted the lithe body that was now facing him, bent over and flushed and writhing in the pleasure that he could give...
... and then Solace was kissing him again, hard, body pressed against his, which even had more of an effect, skin on skin. She must have beckoned to Stephen too, since he heard the ready breathing of his close by as well, on the other side of the woman, could feel him kissing her neck, pressing against her back in return. Body pressed against body pressed against body as when they were dancing, and in a way, they were again dancing, but oh it was different like this. His cock was hard, erect, and rubbing on her glistening skin. Her body swinging sideways, drawing them both with her, till for a bit all that could be heard were hard breaths, wet sounds from lips and tongues on lips and tongues and on skin. Stifled moans as touches were shared. When she had to draw breath, she leaned back against her husband, and each man took to nibbling at one side of her neck, making her body arch and shake between them, lips parting in gasps and more vocal expressions of pleasure. Max's hand slid down, circling a breast, first with barely fingertips, then squeezing gently, then down along the chest, the stomach, the abdomen, and in between the smooth folds between her legs, partly aware that Stephen was almost mirroring the motion along her back, and between their fingers, she was for the first time not fully in control, swaying on her feet between them, moaning. Stephen murmured something in her ear, just when Max's own head was rolling back with the touch of her hand right there, but her breath came out through her teeth in a soft hiss, lips grinning.
Dancing, yes. Now they had each other, and they weren't letting go, each of their bodies too well-trained, too graceful to lose this.
An indeterminate time later, Max and Sol were kneeling on the bed, facing each other, kissing again, the tension hovering right on the edge of being too much because none of them was willing to let go and rush. Stephen pulled Solace's hips back, the coolness of their absence against Max's both thrilling and disappointing. Then her kiss turned almost sharp, and her body tensed, being filled up, arching, breasts pressing against Max's chest. A soft groan of Stephen's. Another coolness as the kiss ended, but her mouth was moving down, over his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He gasped as she nipped, almost bit at his nipple before going on to kiss further back, bending before Stephen's measured but deep thrusts - until her lips wrapped around Max's cock, and he tensed and moaned. Oh she knew what she was doing alright. He drew a deep breath, which sounded way too shuddery for the control he wanted, so he exhaled and tried again, then she did something good with her tongue and his cock twitched helplessly. Through half-closed lids, he could see that Stephen's smile widened at that.
Oh is that it... he does like the effect she has...
Gently, Max gathered Solace's long hair in his fist - not tight. Just so that he could uncover the view better. And then with the next thing she did, he thrust a little. Which got her to purr a little, sending a shudder along his body, urging him to thrust again. And again. In counterpoint to Stephen's movements, so they ended passing her back and forth between them, slow and hard at first, and then gradually faster, soft grunts, moans, groans escaping each of them, mixing. Max's other hand slid along Sol's back, moisture making the motion slick and smooth. Then around, closing his eyes, and touching to cup a breast, his body taking over... not quite out of control yet, but definitely stronger than his want for control.
And then his fingers touched another hand, and his eyes snapped open, though he didn't slow the rhythm. Nor did Stephen, this time, though their eyes met. And Stephen did not withdraw his hand. Eyes on him (the sweat-drenched curls sticking for his forehead. The half-parted lips. The open, hungry eyes), Max carefully, oh so carefully moved his fingers over the back of Stephen's palm. The back of his wrist. Slowly, up the length of his arm, to the elbow, further up.
Stephen's eyes went a little wider, but he didn't stop. Maybe he couldn't, any more than Max could.
Palm on his shoulder - Stephen's head lolled slightly to that side. Soft comment that he was warm, so warm. Increased rhythm even. Palm sliding along the longed-for, smooth chest. Slick and easy motion again. Thumb over a nipple, getting a grunt. Thumb and finger, not quite pinching but close to it, and Stephen's head snapped back, a harder grunt coming out as his hips ground harder, deeper, which made Solace's head roll in turn, which made Max thrust harder, faster. Now going closer to a crest at which control ceased to exist and over which... well. He didn't want to get there ahead of the rest.
He braced his hand, palm flat, against the skin of Stephen's chest, feeling the muscles shift under his skin as he moved, feeling the beads of sweat trickling around his fingers - and didn't loose it too early - barely. And mostly by the grace of the fact that they were there too. Stephen's thrusts became sharper, faster, until Solace's body shuddered, the low, long moan in the depth of her throat adding to her ministrations and tipping Max over as well. Stephen took a few seconds more, and cried out, both hands pressing Solace's hips to his as the finish of it all swept over him too. Max struggled for breath, low groans gasped out between his teeth, until he realized that now he was gripping her hair too tightly and let go. Slowly she let him out of her mouth, and straightened, to lean back against her husband's chest, arms going back around his neck, until he shuddered a last time and sat back on his heels, pulling her with him. Her hand slipped out, cupping Max's cheek fondly.
Somehow, they slithered sideways against the pillows, arms loosely over each other, Stephen still not quite pulling away from Max's touch, though not actively seeking it either.
When he caught his breath, he leaned slightly up to look at his boss. "So... two-blades. You got two swords for your wife. I think she liked that..."
That was how far he got before the pillow slammed into his face - he didn't know which one had done it, but he could hear the laughter of both of them.
... it was well.
