Lars watched Milo over Cora’s shoulder. The man hadn’t moved since slumping in the chair. Hadn’t said a word. But there was an unspoken agreement between them.

There always had been.

Cora’s breast filled his hand, but barely. Her tits were as cute and perky as she was.

He breathed into her ear, relishing the way it made her shiver against him. He could have fucked her right then—he was hard enough for sure—but this was theater. He and Cora actors on a stage. And the more entertaining their performance, the more satisfied their audience would be.

And it was impossible to satisfy Milo. He was a black void that could consume everything and still be left wanting.

Lars squeezed Cora’s breasts hard enough to make her gasp. His other hand slid that annoying black robe from her shoulders. She grabbed his wrist as if trying to stop him, but there was no actual resistance in those arms. The robe fell to the crook of her elbows and gathered there. She clung to his wrist, shifting her weight as if she wanted to step away but never actually taking that step. Her pathetic excuse for pajamas skimmed her in all the right places; tight over her breasts where her nipples poked that creamy fabric, spanned across that inch of skin between her legs. He wished he had Milo’s vantage point right then, because he was sure she looked fucking amazing. Like a cold beer to a man dying of thirst.

Still grabbing hard at her breast, Lars nipped on the edge of her ear as he slipped off first one of the camisole’s straps, then the other. Her only complaint was a low moan in the back of her throat.

How complacent. But would it last? Or would she wake up ten minutes from now wondering what the fuck was going on and screaming at them to get out?

They stood about two feet from the heavy oak coffee table perfectly placed between the chaise lounge and Milo’s armchair. Lars coaxed her forward until her shin was almost knocking into the edge.

Milo shifted in his chair. It was a small movement, one anyone else would probably have missed.

Lars didn’t. His grin stretched, and he licked the outside of Cora’s ear as he smoothed the edge of the camisole down, exposing Cora’s breasts. There wasn’t much light in the room, but when he glanced down, he could see her dusky nipples had tightened into buds. He wanted to suck them, desperately wanted to feel them in his mouth, but that would obscure his Milo’s view.

He couldn’t bear to disappoint his audience.

Lars tweaked her nipples. Cora arched into him and made a mewling sound.

Milo shifted again, this time bringing up one hand to press his curled knuckles against his mouth. Lars could see a hard-on tenting the front of his sweats.

He put his lips by Cora’s ear, whispering to her as he slowly slid the camisole down to her belly button. “Did he fuck you hard, my Milo?” Lars asked her in a conspiratorial whisper, loud enough that Milo would have had to be struck deaf not to hear.

“Yes,” came Cora’s immediate response.

“And you liked it?” He massaged her breasts, drawing circles around her nipples, and then slid both hands down her waist. They followed the curve of her hips, then her thighs, his chin resting on her shoulder the lower he went.

“Yes,” came the same breathless response.

“Do you always like it hard?” he asked as his hands worked their way up again, pausing on either side of her hips.

“I…” Nothing more than a sigh. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

“You don’t know?” Lars said, hearing the smile in his own voice.

Cora arched hard into him again, grinding her plump ass into his dick when his fingers worked their way between her legs. He was still an inch from her slit, but he could feel the heat blossoming out from her core, coating his fingers.

Not just heat. She was wet. Soaking, dripping wet.

He barely held back a groan, instead bit her shoulder hard enough to make her cry out.

“I’ve only ever…it’s only ever been Milo,” she finally said.

Lars’s eyes flashed up to Milo’s. The man had a fist against his mouth now, the fingers of his other hand digging into the edge of the armrest. He’d been staring at Lars’s hands, but his eyes flashed up as if he could feel Lars looking at him.

“Yes…Milo told me you were a virgin,” Lars said. Fuck, he wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the thought that Milo had been this girl’s first, that he would be her second…made him even more horny. He could barely resist the urge to yank down her pathetic shorts and shove his dick into her before she could say another word.

Instead, he grabbed her leg closest to the coffee table and tugged it up. She staggered a little, caught off balance, and then her foot came down on the table’s low surface. He took hold of her knee and slowly spread her leg to the side.

Baring her to Milo.

The man let out an animalistic sound, sat straight in the armchair, and used the hand not pressed against his mouth to try and flatten his dick into his lap.

Lars wished Milo would take it out; it had been too long since he’d seen it.

He touched Cora through her satin pajama shorts. She flinched, moaned, bucked into him.

“Then I’ll show you what gentle’s like,” he murmured into her ear. “You can tell us after which you prefer.”

She made a desperate, pleading sound, grabbed his hand, and tried to force him to touch her harder.

Like the spoiled brat she was. He pulled free, grabbed her wrists, and held her away. But she wrestled herself free, her own hand going for her clit as if she was so desperate to come that she’d hump his fucking leg if that would bring her relief.

But it didn’t work like that.

Milo rose from the armchair. It took him one short step to reach them. He grabbed Cora’s wrists and forced her now fisted hands against his chest.

Lars gently stroked the entire length of her slit until she bucked and whined like an animal in pain. He took his time, lightly building pressure on each stroke until his fingers were digging into her flesh, and then eased up until he was barely touching her.

“Please!” she cried out, her voice strained. “Harder.”

Milo made an unhappy sound in his throat. Forcing her wrists together, he knocked her foot off the coffee table and ripped her camisole down to her feet. She was still taking a breath to gasp or scream when he twisted that satin into a thick rope and shoved it between her teeth.

Her body sagged. Lars almost didn’t catch her in time. Her breath was a pant now, and she shuddered as if she’d been doused with ice water.

Lars urged her foot back on the coffee table as Milo twisted the fabric once in his hands, pulling it taut.

Now she was gagged and bound as effectively as if they’d used ropes. Milo was breathing hard too, but not from exertion. Desperate lust burned in his eyes. He could almost see what the man wanted to do to her, and how hard.

Sex already hung thick in the air, and neither of them even had their fucking cocks out yet.

Cora whimpered and mewled when he stroked her again. Her satin hot pants were cold and damp with her arousal. So he pulled them aside. The fuzz over her lips thrummed under his fingertips as he explored the outside of her slit.

But Milo had become impatient. The man bucked his hips forward, and ran the length of his stiff dick over Cora’s clit. She moaned and tried to arch forward to meet him, but Lars held her back. Instead of holding onto her leg—Milo was blocking her from closing it now anyway—he fumbled with Milo’s hand where the man held the gag behind Cora’s head. He took the twisted satin from him, freeing Milo’s hand.

The man wasted no time. Milo grabbed the wet fabric of her shorts and yanked it so hard to the side that the seams tore open.

Cora yelped through her satin gag and turned big, wet eyes up to Finn. He watched her as he jerked that fabric again, tearing it more. Then he looked down. He’d exposed the most intimate part of her. And the sight of her made him groan deep in the back of his throat. He whipped his dick out of his pants, stroking himself hard and slow. He was so close to coming he could fucking taste it already. But he knew Lars liked taking his time, and the man had only just started.

Lars slid two fingers inside Cora. She gasped around the gag, eyes squeezing shut as she murmured something too muffled to make out. And then Lars fingered her, slowly—almost lazily—for what felt an eternity. It was all he could do to keep himself in check, watching that arrogant display. When he looked up, Lars was staring at him with a secret smile that promised every debauchery he could think of, if only he asked.

“Fuck her,” Finn said in a gruff voice.

“Yeah?” Lars murmured happily.

“Do it.” He glared at the man, but it only made Lars’s grin widen.

“Sure you don’t wanna—” Lars began.

He cut off when Finn ducked, reached under Cora’s sex, and grabbed hold of his dick in a fist. Then he squeezed hard enough to wipe that smile right off Lars’s face.

“Okay,” Lars said, a little breathless. “Jesus.”

He released him, and Lars let out a sigh of relief. Then he turned his eyes to Cora, and gave her a faint smile of his own. Her lips trembled around the gag biting into the corners of her mouth.

She twisted her hands against Finn, and he tightened his grip a little. Her lashes quivered but she kept her eyes on him. Bright and wide…and terrified.