Asher wanted to kick his own ass the second he’d suggested no sex. Not because it wasn’t the right thing to do, but because it was going to leave him in some serious physical pain later on. Blue balls weren’t a good thing. Ever.

Regardless, he would deal with it because he wasn’t going to screw up this chance with Fiona.

And Owen.

Asher had to keep remembering that Owen was a part of this too.

He’d like to say having his best friend in the room with them was a turn-on, but it wasn’t. However, it wasn’t a buzzkill, either. It was just…different. Something that would take some getting used to.

He hoped he got used to it.

The twinges of jealousy he felt watching Owen as he kissed her or touched her were still there, but it was getting easier to push the feeling away.

Okay. It wasn’t easier, but he’d get there. He had to. He was as committed to protecting his friendship with Owen as he was to claiming Fiona’s heart.

And it wasn’t like his sex life hadn’t been one big experiment in exploration anyway. Christina Saunders hadn’t only been his Creative Writing teacher, she’d been his instructor in the bedroom as well. She’d exposed him to tantric sex, guided him through most of the positions in the Kama Sutra, and as a member of a local sex club, she’d enrolled them in classes on shibari and wax play.

The more he learned, the more his dominant side began to emerge—a fact that delighted Christina as much as it bothered her.

She enjoyed his dominance in the bedroom—on occasion—but it wasn’t something Asher could turn on and off. And that was when they’d both realized the pupil had outgrown the teacher.

Unfortunately, he and Christina had never brought another person to the bed, never included another man—or woman—in their play. So he was going to have to figure this one out on his own.

Owen stopped playing with her breasts, his gaze glued to where Asher’s hand had slipped beneath Fiona’s thong.

She was absolutely beautiful, Asher’s idea of feminine perfection, though he knew there were parts of herself that she viewed as anything less than ideal. Her plump, full breasts fit his hand perfectly, while her figure was more straight than hourglass. She sometimes mentioned her longing for curves. Every time she did, he’d reminded her she was jogging them off. He wasn’t wrong. Her legs were lean, slim, muscular, and he’d give a million dollars right now to have them wrapped around his waist. Or his shoulders.

“Grab her wrists, Owen. Hold them above her head.”

Owen didn’t hesitate to do as asked. Asher dreamed of tying Fiona to his headboard, of keeping her on the edge of a climax for hours while he—fuck, they—played with her. She liked it when he pulled her hair. It gave him hope that she’d like to try other, kinkier things.

Fiona was a true Collins, a grab-life-by-the-horns type of girl. In truth, it wasn’t her penchant for bedroom adventures he was worried about.

It was Owen’s.

His friend had one wrist in each hand, sort of awkwardly holding them up. The position meant he was blocking Fiona’s view of what Asher was doing.

He knelt up, gesturing for Owen to release her. Asher grasped her arms, crisscrossing her wrists above her head so he could hold her in place with just one hand. He demonstrated for Owen.

“This way.” Asher reached down with his free hand and pinched one of Fiona’s nipples. She gasped, then moaned. “So you can still play with her.”

Owen nodded that he understood and Asher released her, letting Owen take over. Shifting back between her legs, Asher tugged off her thong.

“Open your legs, princess.”

She did as he said without comment or delay. Asher took a second to study her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was no denying she liked the idea of being held down, captured. He’d tried to initiate a capture fantasy with Christina one night, but she’d lost her shit, then spent the next two hours guiding him through feminist literature and trying to convince him his desires were wrong. The night ended with him binding her in shibari rope, withholding her orgasm until she’d admitted she was wrong. It was one of the hottest, most sexually charged nights of their relationship.

It was also the beginning of the end, the moment they both realized the writing on the wall had changed.

Asher lifted Fiona’s legs, tugging her knees over his shoulders just as he desired, and he bent down to place a kiss on her clit. He’d anticipated Fiona’s hip-jerking reaction, so his hand was pressed firmly on her stomach, holding her to the floor.

He upped the ante, sucking her clit into his mouth, then nipping at the distended flesh with his teeth. Through it all, she struggled to move, to drive her pussy closer to his mouth, trying to grab more.

“God, Ash…”

He glanced up, wanting to see her face, but his eyes met Owen’s. Owen still held her wrists, his free hand lazily caressing her breasts. Clearly, he was too distracted by what Asher was doing to concentrate on his own actions.

“Suck on her breast. Play with the nipple.” Asher had just gotten out of a relationship because he was tired of playing the student. He really didn’t want to get into one where he took on the role of teacher.

Owen responded, his head lowering to take her nipple into his mouth. Fiona sighed, Owen’s touch decidedly gentler than his, if her almost-relaxed reaction was anything to judge by.

Asher took a deep breath and pushed his wayward thoughts away. It was only their first night. They had all the time in the world to learn each other’s hot buttons, to explore and grow.

He took her clit back into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside her.

“Yes,” Fiona hissed when he drove deep, pumping in and out several times. She was wet, her pussy on fire, and once again, he cursed himself for promising no sex. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to lose himself in all that heat, let her burn him, scorch him.

Fiona started to tremble, her inner muscles clenching against his fingers. She was close.

He withdrew before she could get there.

“No! Wait,” she cried out.

He shook his head as he rose, kneeling between her legs. “No. You’re going to wait.”

Her forehead creased briefly with confusion before her eyes flashed with irritation. “Asher. Be a good boy and put your fingers back inside me.”

He laughed. “Oh, princess. That’s never going to work with me.”

And then, because she had the devil in her, Fiona flashed her bright baby blues at Owen. “Owen, sweetie, you’re nicer than Asher. Everyone knows that. Knock that meanie out of the way and take over down there.”

Owen, the asshole, actually looked like he was considering it.

“Don’t let go of her hands, Owen.”

Owen’s grip tightened—and for the first time, Fiona actually struggled against it.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I was close, Ash. Like, really close. Painfully close.”

“If you want it quick and merely satisfying, say the word. Owen and I can leave and you can grab your vibrator. If you want to take your time, let it build while we kiss, lick, suck and bite every inch of you until you explode in our arms, we’re doing this my way.”

Fiona stopped trying to free her hands from Owen’s grip.

“Damn, man,” Owen murmured. “That sounds fucking hot.”

Asher grinned, but Fiona didn’t. Instead, she was nibbling on her lower lip and, for a second, he thought she was actually trying to decide which route to go.

“Seriously?” Owen muttered. “The answer isn’t obvious?”

She shot him a dirty look. “It is. I’m just…I’m not used to denying myself. Anything, really. Food, shoes, purses, orgasms. If I want it, I get it.”

Asher nodded solemnly. “I know. You’re spoiled.”

She scowled. “Not because I make other people buy everything for me. I work damn hard for my salary, which happens to be a great one.”

“And your parents are richer than God,” Owen added.

“Fuck you, Owen.”

The three of them cracked up as Asher lay back down beside Fiona, and Owen released her hands. Fiona sighed, clearly thinking they were taking a breather.

Asher had other plans in mind. He liked keeping her off-balance, on guard, for the very reasons she’d just stated. Fiona lived a life of self-gratification, and it was becoming pretty obvious Brock had simply given her whatever she wanted in bed without challenging her, pushing her limits.

Reaching down, Asher unbuckled his belt, sliding it from the loops, allowing the whishing sound to fill the silence.

Fiona’s eyes followed the movement of his hands as he sat up and reached for her wrists once more.

“Wait,” she said.

“I can use the belt to bind your hands or to spank your ass. Don’t tell me to wait one more time. If you don’t like something I’m doing, tell me no and I’ll stop. Always. But if it’s something you want, don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Wow,” she said.

He tilted his head. “Wow what?”

Fiona opened her mouth, but no sound came out, so Owen answered the question. “You are one scary fucker. And I’m pretty sure Fiona’s as turned on by it as I am.”

Asher expected Fiona to either laugh or correct him, but instead she merely nodded. “You come off as so nice when you’re Clark Kent. Then boom, Sexy Superman.”

He couldn’t resist her a second longer, so he gave her a kiss. He’d meant to keep it quick, mouths closed, but Fiona wasn’t finished fighting yet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her lips, her tongue seeking his. He let her guide the kiss because he was nobody’s fool. He loved kissing her.

When they parted, he unclasped her hands from behind his neck and tugged them upwards again, twisting the leather around her wrists and tying it off.

“Not your first time doing that,” Owen said softly.

It wasn’t a question, so Asher didn’t bother to answer. The proof was in the efficient knot anyway.

“Leave your hands above your head, Fee.” He didn’t say “or else,” but from the way she shivered slightly, he knew it had been implied.

Asher lowered his head to Fiona’s breast, gripping the flesh firmly. He shot a quick glance at Owen, indicating he should hop in and play with the other.

Hopefully, once the shock of what they were doing wore off, Owen wouldn’t keep reverting to spectator.

Together, they each played with her breasts. Asher would occasionally catch a glimpse of what Owen was doing, and he got a sense his friend was actually mimicking him, following his lead.

Fiona wriggled beneath them, her soft cries, her moans telling him when he’d done something she liked.

Asher deepened the suction on her nipple, keeping it in his mouth, as his hand slid lower, the back of his knuckles brushing along her stomach until he reached her pussy.

Fiona’s legs were clenched as she rubbed her thighs together. She was desperate for stimulation and failing to find enough on her own.

The second she felt his fingers near her clit, her legs fell apart, inviting him to play.

Asher raised his head, his gaze on Owen, capturing his friend’s attention.

“Want to touch her?” Asher asked.

Owen nodded, his own hand caressing Fiona as it drifted lower. He paused when his hand rested by Asher’s.

Asher was perfectly capable of taking the reins, of telling Owen what to do. But was Owen okay with that? It wasn’t like this was Owen’s first time with a woman. Hell, it wasn’t even his first time with Fiona. So why all the hesitance?

“Touch her,” Asher whispered, when Owen made no further movement.

Owen’s finger grazed her clit. Fiona jerked at the sudden touch but didn’t make a sound. Owen was too gentle—in everything.

Asher gave up trying to be a team player. “Like this.” He put his hand on top of Owen’s and applied pressure, his finger pushing Owen’s against her clit.

That time, Fiona responded with a loud, “yes,” and Owen grinned.

“Rub it. Fast and hard. But don’t let her come.”

Owen frowned. “How will I know if—”

“Pay attention. Listen to her. Feel what her body is saying.”

Fiona’s neck arched. “Stop. Talking,” she groaned. “More.”

As Owen stroked her clit, Asher took advantage of other areas. He pushed two fingers back inside her, matching his thrusts to Owen’s motion.

Fiona’s hips lifted and fell and once again, Asher was overcome with the need to unzip his pants and take her.

He thought the only thing stopping him was that they’d agreed to take sex off the table, but Asher forced himself to admit the truth.

He didn’t want Owen there when he made love to Fiona.

“Fuck.”

He hadn’t meant to say the word aloud. Fortunately, neither Owen nor even Miss Tone Fiona realized it was frustration, not arousal behind it.

Once more he felt her reaching the peak, so he withdrew his fingers, letting one wet digit drift lower, wiggling it around her anus.

“Asher,” Fiona cried out, her reaction in direct opposition to her earlier comment about anal play.

She liked it. He knew she would.

Owen glanced down and realized what he was doing.

“She’s going to kill you,” Owen muttered, “the second she stops coming.”

Asher grinned, then pressed the tip of his index finger into the tight ring of flesh. He wouldn’t do more than that tonight, but he definitely wanted to give Fiona something to think about for next time.

For the first time all night, Owen took some initiative and pushed his own fingers inside her pussy. Asher was impressed when his friend even managed to keep the pressure on her clit by using his thumb.

It didn’t take more than a few thrusts before Fiona went up and over, her body shuddering with her climax. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed as she trembled. He loved the little sounds she made—the perfect blend of surprise mingled with mews of pleasure. Neither Owen nor Asher stopped touching her, stroking her, as wave after wave passed through her, and she cried out, “Holy fuck! God. Jesus.”

Asher had promised her an explosion. Looked like he—they—had managed it.

When she landed, Owen was the first to withdraw, leaning over to give her a soft kiss.

Fiona gave him a drowsy smile.

“Going to the bathroom,” he said. “Need a few minutes alone with my lightsaber.”

She frowned. “Owen, wait. I know we said—”

“No, Fee,” Owen interrupted her. “It’s better this way. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

She nodded slowly as Owen pushed himself up from the floor. Asher noticed his friend never looked in his direction as he walked out of the room.

So, Owen felt the same way.

This time, Asher managed to keep the fuck inside his head. He crawled alongside Fiona, reaching up to free her hands.

“Bondage, huh? That was a surprise,” she said saucily.

Despite the tightness in his chest that told him things were going to take a bad turn really soon, he laughed. “That’s just one surprise.”

Once she was free, she tugged him toward her.

“I should wash my hands, Fee.”

“In a minute.” She pulled his head down toward hers and kissed him. Though she initiated it, he took over, deepening the connection, wishing there was an easy solution to all of this.

Because kissing Fiona was the closest he’d ever been to heaven…and Asher really didn’t want to leave paradise.