Give Me More (Salacious Players Club #3) (44)

“You comin’?” he asks, looking at me as if this is completely normal. He’s staring at me…and his hand is still moving.

Suddenly, my cock is twitching in my pants, throbbing as it fills and presses painfully against my zipper.

“Yeah…I guess,” I stutter, pulling off my shirt and draping it neatly over the rim of the sink. Next, I ease down the zipper of my jeans, wondering if he notices how hard I am already, just from watching him stroke himself.

Anyone would get hard from that, right?

Of course…not everyone secretly wonders how nice it might be to reach out and touch it. How another man’s cock feels in your own hand. How it tastes.

Fuck—a lightning strike hits the base of my spine and my cock twitches at the thought.

As I step toward the shower, Drake steps aside, pressing Isabel between us as I move under the hot spray of water. It’s truly a big enough shower for three people to stand in here without touching, but where’s the fun in that?

As I rinse my hair, trying to stay as composed as possible, no longer bothering to hide the hard length jutting out from my hips, Drake runs his hands over Isabel’s wet body. She hums as he tweaks her nipples. With their eyes on me, both of them fondle and caress each other, not doing anything other than touching—and driving me insane.

Is it weird to feel like the third wheel when it’s your best friend and wife?

“All right, you two. Dry off and get out. Meet me in the spare bedroom.”

Isabel bites her lip as she smiles at me. Then, I step out of the shower, grab a towel and resist the urge to stroke myself as I dry off. We have a potentially long night ahead of us…if I can keep it together.

After a quick dry-off, I leave them in the shower and head down the hall toward the spare bedroom—with a quick detour to the tequila bottle, of course. In the room, I browse through the cabinets and drawers. I know what I have in mind tonight, but I don’t know if they will be into it. It’s not really Drake’s style.

So I pick out a few of the easier toys. No need to go crazy this time around. A red leather paddle with a lot of flex. A soft leather flogger for sensation. My experience with these things goes about as far as the research for the club. This isn’t something Isabel and I have tried yet, mostly because I don’t have it in me to hurt her. Too much trauma in my history, but Drake could—if she wants it.

I’m holding the paddle when they finally walk in, still naked. Isabel is behind him with her hands on his waist, stroking his bare skin with intimacy, and something strange strikes me at that moment. Something I can’t define.

This whole time I’ve been more turned on than jealous at the sight of them touching each other, but suddenly, seeing just how comfortable they are together, the feeling has changed. Just a little but the shift from arousal to envy is there.

Shrugging off the hesitation, I move silently across the room. Pulling Isabel from behind Drake, I lead her toward the bench. With her cheeks flushed red from the shower and a sheen of sweat across her forehead, she’s so breathtaking, I can’t help myself as I pull her in for a kiss. On instinct, she melts into my arms.

“Do you know what this is, baby?”

Her eyes dance over the bench, the four cuffs attached to the head and foot on each side, and I spot the twinkle of curiosity in her expression. Lips parted, she nods.

“Drake is going to strap you to this bench and spank you for all the dirty things you’ve done. How does that sound?” I mutter lowly in her ear.

There’s a slight hitch in her breath.

“While you watch?” she asks, her round green eyes finding mine.

“Yes, baby. I’ll be in that chair, watching him make you scream.”

The corner of her mouth lifts as her hand unexpectedly takes a hold of my cock. I let out a grunt as my knees go weak. She tugs a long stroke of my dick, pulling me closer to her as she says, “Don’t touch yourself while you watch. I want you to hold out for me.”

With a growl, I cover her hand with mine. “My filthy girl. You’re getting an extra stroke for that.”

As Isabel and I pull away from each other, I look at Drake, who’s touching his lips as he stares at her, pinching the bottom one and rolling it in a way that makes me feel something I shouldn’t.

“What do you think? Is this a good plan for you?” I ask him.

Suddenly, his arm is around Isabel, tugging her closer as he buries his face in her neck. She lets out a yelp as his giant body engulfs her tiny one.

“Punish this dirty girl while you watch? It would be my pleasure.”

“You’ll need a safe word, Red,” I say, but she cuts me off before I have a chance to suggest one.

“Namaste.”

My head tilts to the side as Drake lets out a light chuckle.

“Okay, then.” By the time I sit in the chair across the room, Isabel is already climbing up onto the bench. With her belly and chest against the high part, she easily rests her knees and hands against the lower ledges, and Drake takes his time cuffing her wrists and ankles. There’s a look of eager anticipation on her face as she squirms with each lock of the cuffs.

I keep glancing back at the small dish on the dresser labeled Spanking Bench Keys, as if they’re going to magically float away and my wife will forever be stuck to this sex device.

She’s facing me on the bench, so I don’t get a good look at her backside, but this view is enough. Her head and ass are in prime locations for access and she has little to no mobility, something I’d say she’s enjoying by the salacious gleam in her eye.