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Jack Abbot and Michael “Robby” Robinavitch come as a pair. They are tethered by many things, but most notably by the trauma they’ve endured as attending physicians of an emergency department.
Samira wasn’t naive to it when she started dating Jack.
She knows they are friends. She knows they have history, a backlog of memories spanning over years and continents. She knows they orbit each other.
And she’s acutely aware of how they both pull her to their gravities. They both entice her.
She’s not skilled in the way of dating or men, given she has spent the last ten years of her life focused on becoming the best doctor she can be, the one her father didn’t have.
Jack is everything she wants in a partner. Kind, caring, doting, and wonderful. The best boyfriend in every sense of the word. He sees her, like no one has before.
Robby’s his opposite. Abrasive, tortured, condescending. Looking at Robby is like looking into a mirror. She sees what she might become in him. He sees her, for who she really is.
And Samira can’t help but be curious about that. She wants to understand what he sees when he looks at her. To find where the anger he holds over her lives in his body. Does it match hers? To crack him open and feel under his skin and trace his scars. Is his blood also red? Does his heart beat too much, too fast? Is he just as desperate for the adrenaline high and the rush from doing something good, whichever way he can get it?
She finds out after half a beer from the shitty dive bar near the hospital and an offhanded comment Jack made about her that had Robby freeze in his spot in the booth. Jack drives them all to his house, and Samira can feel the sweat dripping down her back before she even walks in the door, the chill in the air doing nothing to ease her anticipation.
It’s Robby, surprisingly, who speaks up first.
“Are you sure?”
They’re standing in Jack’s living room while Jack pulls cans of beer out of his fridge for them.
She looks up. His tall, broad figure looms over her, his brown eyes uncharacteristically soft and concerned. She watches them harden, drift lower then back up, his breath picking up a little as they both just stare.
“Yes,” she says, sharp and clear. No room for confusion. No hiding from her want.
Then she’s repeating it, over and over, for Jack while he eats her out in the middle of his bed. Her scrubs in a pile on the floor, bare and naked for both of them. Jack has Robby sitting in the plush dining chair that never gets used, dragged into the corner. Samira’s head lolls to the side and she can see his fingers twitch and grip at the arm rests, white knuckled. She meets his eyes and clenches down on nothing. His briefs are still on, tight against his legs and leaving nothing to Samira’s imagination about how big his cock might be.
Jack licks a long stripe up her cunt, forcing a whine out of Samira, her eyes squeezing shut when he kitten licks at her clit.
“This is how she deserves to be treated, Robby,” Jack says, low and rough. He’s smoothing his hands over her widespread thighs, pressing a soft kiss below her hip bone. Samira whines again, her hand moving to grip his curls and trying to force him back down. The extra set of eyes, his eyes, have her more keyed up than normal.
Jack shushes her. Moves her hand smoothly back to the bed, presses into her wrist to tell her to keep it there. He waits after he adjusts her thighs again, probably expecting her to defy the gesture. She trembles but doesn’t move, catching Jack’s eyes with a pleading look. She needs more. Not much, but more. He’s not going to give it to her. Jack’s gaze glazes over as he looks back down to her pussy.
“See? She can be good for you, man,” Jack says, almost to warn him. He glances over his shoulder to Robby. “You have to be nice. You have to learn to be nice to her.” Samira shivers.
His deep brown eyes are boring holes into Samira’s instead. She aches to feel his beard on her thighs, between her legs, scratching at the core of her. Something in her twists to be good for him, like Jack says. Here, at work, wherever he is. It feels innate. Raw. She’s sure he feels it too. The wanting, the desperation to claw into the other, and sink teeth in with only the intention of ripping a part.
She’s too busy looking at Robby; too busy thinking about how different Robby will be, will feel, to notice Jack leaning back in.
She gasps, twisting the sheets in her fists, tries to grind up into Jack’s mouth but firm hands holding tight to the tops of her thighs don't allow it.
He’s slow. Meticulous with his tongue going in and out of her. Then dragging it over her clit like he’s savoring her.
“Jack,” she whines, her eyes squeezed shut to avoid Robby's ever present gaze.
“Samira,” he taunts back.
Jack knows what she can handle. Jack knows she can come like this. He likes testing her patience, while treating her like something holy, something divine. Someone worthy of being worshipped. It settles in her gut like lava, spews languidly out of her cunt and Jack laps it up happily.
“You want to be good for him, Samira? For Robby?” he murmurs into her. The thought has her arching her back off the bed, trying to lock her thighs around his head, a moan ricocheting off the walls. Jack nuzzles his nose into her clit, pointedly blows a puff of air from his mouth. “Asked you a question, baby.”
It punches out of her.
“Yes,” she says.
“Yes,” she repeats.
“Yes,” she succumbs.
It’s like a wave that knocks her off her feet, has her tumbling in white foam, and unable to find up or down. The orgasm that washes over her has a new depth, different because Robby is there, watching how she comes, how she shakes and convulses on Jack’s tongue.
When she finally crashes through the surface of pleasure, gasping for air and shivering, it’s to Jack’s words, to the gentle press of his lips on her inner thighs.
“Are you ready to try?” he asks Robby, the rumble of his words into her sensitive skin causing her to twitch. “Show her how nice I know you can be.”
Robby nods, jerky and afraid to open his mouth. Afraid whatever comes out will betray him, betray his want. He pushes up from the chair and approaches the bed. He watches Jack caress Samira’s skin, kiss up her legs and belly before settling on the edge of the bed.
Robby kneels at the foot and looks up at Samira who has lifted onto her elbows to watch him. His eyes are wide and questioning, she nods. The anticipation of his touch has her whole body buzzing.
Robby grips her calves and drags her to the edge of the bed, manhandles her thighs to rest on his shoulders, unable to resist the urge to take control. Samira nearly rolls her eyes, his movements exactly what she would expect from him, rough and domineering.
“Robby,” Jack warns, his hand coming to smooth over her hair. In lieu of an apology, Robby huffs into Samira’s cunt, warm air over her sticky center. Leans in to lick demurely at the slick that leaks from her. His tongue is slow and wide as he laps at her hole, as he circles her clit. He’s soft, but annoyingly so.
Samira can’t help herself either, her threshold with him always so much lower. Part of her wants him, needs him to be rough with her. Part of her can’t stand the fact that he’s trying to be sweet, craves his biting bark.
“He’s not doing it right,” she whines to Jack, her goal to rile him up as much as it is to get more.
She gets her wish as Robby bares his teeth and pulls her clit between them. He’s rough as he shoves his tongue inside her with a rhythm and pressure designed to punish. And she can’t help but like it, can’t help but arch her back to his onslaught.
But Jack won’t have it, won’t let them take out their grievances on each other's bodies like this. He grips the back of Robby’s head and shoves his face into Samira’s cunt, forcing a stop to his movement.
Samira huffs but can’t deny how good the pressure of his nose into her clit feels. Robby rumbles some sort of objection into her center but Jack doesn’t let up.
“You have to be gentle, brother,” he chastises the man at the mercy of his hand.
Robby’s eyes flick up to meet Samira’s and she can see the anger bubbling in them. He’s probably calling her a brat in his mind, bemoaning the fact that she made him do it. Good.
When he doesn’t answer, Jack grips Robby’s hair harder and pulls him off her cunt. The loss has both of them moaning.
“Can you be gentle?” Jack grits out, leaning in close to Robby as he pants into the open air.
His head bobs up and down, anything to get another taste of her.
“Tell me,” Jack orders as he leans away, towering over him once more.
“Yes,” he agrees from beneath him, and now Jack’s hand is gentle as he guides his friend back to his girlfriend’s dripping pussy.
Robby licks into Samira with renewed vigor, his rhythm slow but with just the right amount of pressure. She wishes it didn’t feel so good, the way he suctions her clit and pulses it in and out of his mouth. Try as she might, she can’t help the symphony of moans slipping from her lips.
Her thighs squeeze around Robby’s head but Jack stops her movement this time.
“Let him breathe, baby” he hums in her ear with a gentle palm on her leg. She relaxes her thighs and her focus remains on the way Robby’s beard grates over the soft skin there. It’s different from Jack’s stubble, harsher and just on the wrong side of painful. Samira can feel another orgasm fast approaching now, Jack knows it, and Robby probably knows it too.
“He’s being good to you, isn’t he?” he asks, for Robby’s benefit just as much as hers.
She can’t answer, can’t even nod because now he’s licking into her and his nose is bumping her clit with a tempo that has a string of gasps pushing out her slack-jawed mouth. Jack grips her chin and turns her face to look at his.
“Tell him,” he commands her.
“Uh-huh,” is all Samira can manage because Robby is slipping one thick finger into her entrance beneath his circling tongue. He’s pushing it in and out of her with long and deep strokes, curling it up to reach that spongy spot deep inside her.
And damn him, that’s the final push she needs to reach another brilliant and glittering orgasm, the waves once more pulling her out to sea. Samira swears Robby groans into her as she gushes around his finger and onto his insistent tongue, but she can’t be sure because this second climax has her head buzzing harder than the first. Robby continues mouthing at her through the aftershocks, like he can’t get enough of the taste of her, like he’s trying to coax even more of the slick from her already soaked center.
Jack’s hand claps down onto Robby’s shoulder as he’s done a million times before, full of pride, and that’s his cue to pull away with a final wet suck. He sits back onto his haunches with a crack of his knees and his blown out pupils peer up at Jack.
“Just like that, man,” Jack grins at him, that slick one they all know so well. “I knew you could do it.”
The praise, combined with the lingering taste of Samira on his tongue, has Robby’s spine going ramrod straight. His already hard cock swells to nearly bursting, has him wondering how he hasn’t ripped his briefs.
“I think we should try something else,” Jack hums with a broad hand on each of them. “Since you’re both listening so well.”
Jack stands to rearrange Samira on the bed, gently cradling her head as he pushes her back up towards the headboard. His lips descend on hers with a soft kiss before he turns back to Robby who remains on his knees behind him.
“Go rest your knees, old man,” Jack quips with a head tossed towards the dining chair.
Robby might have had some sharp comeback if he weren’t turned on out of his mind. So he just follows orders and sinks back into the chair, all three of them back to where they started.
Jack climbs back onto the bed in between Samira’s legs and leans down to kiss her. His hands skim down her arms, circling her wrists lightly to guide them up around his neck. She sinks her hands into his curls, pulling softly and groaning into his mouth.
Her hips lift sharply, seeking the friction from his. Jack reaches down slowly, trailing his fingers over her sides the whole way to her thighs, and slots them up over his hips for her. Samira wraps herself around Jack easily– clinging to his warmth, his uncomplicated desire for her. She tries, in a desperate attempt to hurry the act along, to angle herself and grind to notch Jack at her entrance.
Jack pulls back from the kiss that has turned to simply panting and little noises into each other's mouth, to lean back and push her knees to her chest, splaying her out for him. She whines, high and needy.
“I know, baby. I know what you need.” Jack says in the same gentle tone he says I love you in, and uses a hand to pet softly at her hair. “Let me give it to you, yeah? Let Robby watch me give it to you.”
Samira nods and tries to relax, to let Jack have the reins and trust he will get her there. Her body feels like a live wire with so much pent up desire, even after two orgasms.
He reaches down, grazes her clit, parts her slick folds with the tip of his cock. He pushes in, settling with just the head inside. A strangled moan fights its way out of her throat. His hands grips the back of her knees as he slides sinfully slow, inching his way in.
Robby groans in the corner, where he’s got a front seat view of the decadence of Jack and Samira. Samira’s eyes fly over to him, and she feels Jack twist his torso to look over. He’s palming at himself in his briefs; his hips shifting against the cushion. Hooded lids, heavy breathing, eyes locked on Samira’s cunt stretched around Jack’s cock.
“Robby,” Jack barks.
Robby startles and flits his eyes up to meet Jack’s, turning a deeper shade of red in shame.
“No touching,” Jack’s soft voice floats over to Robby. Samira can see the command hit; his hand robotically removing itself from his own dick, resting it once again on the armrest. “Good,” Jack drawls.
Samira clenches, even if the praise isn’t directed at her. For his part, Jack’s nails dig into her thighs and a quiet curse uttered. He starts inching his way into her again.
A snail's pace gets them finally flush together a few long moments later and Samira feels like she could choke from being full of him.
Jack pulls back, almost pulls out, then thrusts back in. It’s more of a fluid motion than before, but slow enough that it drags at Samira’s insides. He keeps the brutally slow pace, pinning her down so she can’t buck up into his movements.
So she uses her voice to echo her disdain– frustrated grunts every time he bottoms out without the harsh sound of their skin colliding, calls of his name when he stops for a second too long with only the tip of his cock left inside, unstoppable whimpers as he leans in, whispers into her skin: So good, baby and Can you feel every inch of me? and Do you think he’ll feel better than me? Do you want him inside of you? You want him to make you feel good? I think he can fuck you nice and slow like this.
She throws her head to the side, eyes squeezed shut on another slow thrust in, and hears a low groan from Robby.
Samira opens her eyes to see Robby leaned back in the chair, a picture of relaxation except for how white his fingers are where they’re latched onto the cloth of the armrest, staring at Samira’s face. His gaze flicks down her body, bouncing from one body part to the next, to Jack thrusting into her, then back up to her stare with blown out pupils. Another gasping groan falls from his lips, louder.
She burns. She tries with everything to cant her hips up for more. She scratches down Jack’s back. She wants. She needs. She feels untethered. She is dizzy with desire.
Pent up from fantasizing about fucking her boss who hates her and finally about to have the opportunity to do it. Feeling like her blood is running hot through her veins from hating him back because he’s such a fucking asshole and it makes her irrevocably horny.
So Samira begs.
“Jack,” her voice coming out hoarse. “Jack, please. Please, please, please – Fuck. I can’t– I need– Oh, God.” She scrabbles for purchase by pulling the sheets up in her fists, arching her chest up into Jack’s.
He stops moving.
“What do you need, baby?” he coos. It feels almost condescending, like Robby’s quips at her pace with patients. Or the way she diagnoses. Or the thousand other times over the years where Robby has bent down to her level and leered at her.
Samira Mohan is anything but fucking subtle.
“Robby,” she grits out.
Robby’s moan floods her senses. And the sound of rustling clothes.
Samira only catches Robby leaning back into the chair, sans boxer briefs. His thick cock sits heavy against his stomach. From the looks of it, Samira can tell it’s longer than Jack’s. She can feel her own pupils grow, wanting to take the image in and sear it to the back of her eyelids.
Jack’s hand pinches her chin and tenderly guides her face to meet his gaze.
“You want him?” he asks, a wild, but serious expression on his face. Like he’s giving her an out.
She knows if she demanded it, he’d fuck her properly in front of Robby and that would be it. Robby would come from his right hand, eyes locked with Samira’s equally frenzied stare. He’d get dressed. He’d go home. They’d never talk about it again.
Samira doesn’t want that.
“I want him to fuck me.”
Jack’s eyes darken, his pupils taking over most of the green in his eyes, and a smirk slides its way over his lips. He takes in her face, squinting a bit when he lands on her eyes again. Then, “Fine. We’re playing by my rules, though, sweetheart.”
Anticipation festers in Samira’s chest. “What?” she croaks.
Jack laughs, “My rules, baby girl.”
Then he’s pulling out of her– leaving her empty, unsatisfied, impatient– and turning toward Robby.
“You gonna give her what she wants?” Jack asks him with a wicked grin, sidling up beside Samira's languid body. One knee bent, his prosthetic hanging over the edge of the bed, and an outstretched arm beckoning Robby over.
Robby pushes his already shaking body up from the chair and towards the bed once more. The feeling of his painfully hard cock sliding against his own skin has him hissing as he approaches. Blood rushes in his ears as his gaze slides from Jack’s ruddy dick, still wet with Samira’s slick, to her gaping cunt that his friend has so lovingly prepared for him.
He sinks his knees into the bed and Jack grabs him by the scruff of his neck, hard, dragging him down to his eye level.
“Be. Nice,” he warns and releases his grip to scratch at the short hair of his nape. Robby shivers and bobs his head.
Samira watches from underneath eyelids heavy with pleasure as Robby shuffles across the bed towards her. His warm and calloused palms slide up her thighs and they’re reverent in a way she never expected his touch could be. It’s her turn to shiver now and Robby’s eyes follow the movement as it wracks through her body. His thumbs swipe over her hipbones, the soft slope of her belly, the curve of her ribs. Jack’s demands to be soft with her an excuse to finally explore her body, to feel the blood pumping beneath her skin.
“Robby,” Samira grits, trying to be patient but feeling far too exposed and needy beneath his tender touch.
His eyes snap to hers and he finally shifts his hips so that they meet her own. The hard lines of his cock pressing against her puffy pussy. They both moan at the feeling.
“Samira,” Robby whispers, in a voice she’s never heard from him. It’s full of longing and deference and her whole body lights up, cunt contracting around nothing.
Her hands slide up his arms and around his back, nails digging into the corded muscle there as he slides his length up and down her cunt. The head of him bumps against her clit and she keens, arching up into him.
“Look how ready she is for you man,” Jack hums as he watches them.
Robby shifts again, pulling away from Samira’s heat just enough to notch his cock at her entrance. They’re both holding their breath and the room is silent and still for a beat before he pushes past that first ring of muscle.
Just the tip of him inside her is enough to have both of them exhaling sharply in pleasure. Robby’s pace is slow, methodical as he pushes further into her. The inches keep coming and Samira already feels stretched to the limit.
“Halfway there, baby,” Jack whispers with a kiss pressed into her temple.
Samira chokes on air and wonders how there could possibly be any space left inside her. Finally Robby’s pelvis settles flush with hers and she swears she can feel the head of him kissing her cervix.
Robby groans, deep and ragged. His head collapses into the juncture of her neck as he tries to push past the initial dizzy feeling of her warm walls closing in on him from every direction.
Samira wiggles her hips, urging him to move, but instead of acquiescing, he pushes her hips down into the bed with the weight of his body.
“Give me a second,” he nearly growls. Eyes squeezed shut as he desperately tries to keep the waves of a premature climax from overtaking him.
Samira doesn’t listen. She wants him to snap, to break, to take his frustration out on her. She can’t stand the way he’s being so precious with her. It’s not what she wants from him.
So she contracts her cunt around him, hips rotating and grinding into him as much as the press of him down into her will allow.
That does it. Robby lifts up and away from her, sliding his aching cock out of her until just the head of him remains nestled in her warmth.
And then he slams back inside. The force of his thrusts are near painful but it’s exactly what Samira wants. The sharp smack of skin on skin fills her eardrums and she can’t help but love the sound of it.
Robby lifts up further, sitting on spread knees and using a bruising grip on her hips to pull her cunt up and onto his cock over and over and over again. They’re both grunting in time with the slap of her body against his.
And all too soon Jack is cutting in.
“Now is that how Samira deserves to be treated?” Jack questions, his rough palm coming up to cup the slope of her bouncing tit, his thumb tenderly tweaking her nipple. He’s giving Robby a chance to slow on his own, to show he can curb that base instinct to control and destroy.
Samira nods her head vigorously, forgets who is asking the question and the answer she knows Jack wants, too lost in the relentless piston of Robby’s dick in and out of her.
“Yes,” Robby grits out, he too forgetting what Jack has asked of him, too focused on the euphoric feeling of slamming into her cervix, of his balls slapping against her slicked skin.
Jack huffs a sigh, his fingers turning just a little bit mean, pinching Samira’s nipple between them. She throws her head back and grips the sheets in her fists, the added sensation just a little bit too much.
“That’s too bad,” Jack hums. “I guess we’ll have to stop.”
Robby and Samira’s heads both whip towards him, eyes wide and begging.
“Jack, wha-uh—” she squeaks, her rolling hips stuttering to a stop.
“I said we had to play by my rules,” Jack shrugs. “If you can’t do that, it ends right here, right now.”
Robby crashes to a stop on his next retreat, the thick head of cock hovering just inside Samira’s quivering cunt. His shoulders shake with the effort of holding himself back, of not plunging right back into her warm and welcome heat and chasing the high that is now slowly slipping away.
Samira whimpers, mouth parting, searching for the words to beg that don’t come. Her mind and body are at odds, her cunt aching to build that delicious and violent friction again but still wanting to be good for Jack, wanting his praise.
Now that he knows he has their undivided attention, Jack tries again.
“You have to go slow,” he reminds them, a hand smoothing over each of their shoulders. “I know you can do it. I know you can be nice to each other.”
His eyes pass between them, and it doesn’t matter which of one of them he says it to, because they both preen under his warm gaze and steady hand, nodding in agreement like two bobble heads he’s placed on his shelf. Eager to please, to do what they’re told, to be good.
“Show me,” Jack encourages with dark eyes and a confident smirk, his hands slipping away. “Try again.”
And that’s all Robby needs to hear to start a slow and tortuous slide back into Samira’s dripping hole. She can feel every vein of him, every bump and groove, as he pushes in. It’s agony, to go so slow when all he wants to do is thrust with abandon, to lose himself in her and not think.
Samira whines, aching for more, but Jack just shushes her, gives her a fond look.
The pull out of her is even harder than the push in, Samira’s dripping cunt gripping onto him, begging him to plunge back into her again and again and again. Robby’s teeth grit as he slowly, achingly moves his hips backward. He exhales deeply once only his bulbous tip remains twitching at her entrance. Sweat beads at his brow as fights the instincts to give in and take. He’s not sure how long he can keep this rhythm, if he can even come like this.
“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that right?” Robby grits out, huffing over Samira on a precise and hard thrust in, a yelp jumping out of Samira’s mouth.
Robby’s hands are pinning her to the bed, she wouldn’t be able to meet his slow, torturous thrusts if she tried. Samira’s hands are roving over his back, his shoulders, nails digging in when she’s full of Robby’s cock.
Jack laughs, sounding just a touch mean, next to them. Samira can’t seem to help herself, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
“Please. Please, Jack,” she pleads.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he says sweetly.
Samira resorts to evil. She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout and bats her eyelashes at Jack. It’s worked every time before. Has made Jack melt and give and fulfil her whims.
He gives her nothing. So, Samira refuses to look at Robby, refuses to even look at Jack now. Squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head in the most petulant way while Robbys keeps going.
“Stop. Now.” Jack growls, obviously upset at their performance.
Samira feels like she can't breathe when Robby stops moving. Her eyes pop open.
The stretch of his cock is perfect. Robby's big hands gripping tight at one of her shoulders to keep himself upright and stable, the other planted deep into the mattress beside her head is perfect. Their heavy breaths mixing, colliding, fusing as Jack forces them to stare at each other is perfect.
She can see in his eyes a broken man barely hanging on, barely giving into the pleasure being bestowed to him. A man she can't help because she’s broken herself. A man she will try to help anyway despite it all. She’s a doctor. She helps and she tries and she saves. It’s what he taught her.
Maybe if she helps Robby she can figure out how to help herself.
She looks at him. He looks at her. Desperate is the only word that comes to mind to describe the look in his eyes. She imagines she looks the same to him.
He’s not moving but she can feel him trembling above her, the anticipation almost too much to bear. His face above her– bearded, sweaty, twisted up trying not to shatter under the pressure.
“Ask. Both of you.”
Samira blinks out of her trance, glances to her right where Jack lounges on the bed, watching them like a hawk and lazily stroking his own very red-purple cock. His voice is velvet soft but commanding. Just like he is at work.
Robby’s cock twitches. She whines out a quizzical sound, her brows creasing together.
“Look at him, Samira,” Jack chides softly.
She does.
He stares back.
She knows what Jack is asking her to ask Robby. She’s mulled over the question time and time again to Jack. She has tried to puzzle Michael Robinavitch together, to understand what she has done wrong, to pinpoint the missteps he saw.
“Do you hate me?” she asks, all pretenses falling to the wayside.
Robby looks at her. His expression doesn't change, but he looks at her. She watches emotions filter through the sheen of his eyes, like flipping through a rolodex. Watches the contemplation pass over, the twitch of his brow as he thinks about the very simple question.
It sticks to the walls of her heart, her chest cavity. She just wants to be enough for Robby. She wants him to say it. She wants him to mean it.
“Sometimes,” he says, almost gurgling the answer out. Caught in his throat like another version of the word was supposed to come out. This is raw, real.
It hits her square in the chest. Like she was suckerpunched. The gasp rushes all of the air in her lungs out. She feels hot and cold at the same time. All of her nerves have been stimulated simultaneously and there’s nowhere to go. The need to be good for Jack overrides her need to grind her clit up into Robby’s pubic bone, to have him move even the slightest inside of her.
Jack making them go slow, to stop moving when all they both want is to go fast, to race to the finish line, feels almost ironic. The adrenaline from just the anticipation of it all seeps into the air like mustard gas. Jack making them both admit that maybe they don't hate each other as much as they thought is suffocating.
In turn, it feels like they’re admitting that they like the tension they both carry, that they like the strain. But also liking that they’re actually able to be soft and kind with each other for once. That feels close to torture.
She clenches down on Robby involuntarily. He groans, his face planting into the crook of her neck.
“Do you?” he asks, mumbled, honeyed and warm into her neck.
“Look at her.” Jack snaps. “Look at her and ask again.”
Samira can feel Robby trembling as he lifts back up on his forearms. His face comes back into view with pinched brows and a clenched jaw. Everything taut, everything on display. He works his mouth around, the tension, the adrenaline between them growing. She’s sure if fingers were dipped inside her she’d be wet as if they had spent heated minutes pawing at each other.
Robby breathes a sharp inhale through his nose.
“Do you hate me, Samira?” he asks, barely loud enough for her to hear.
She licks her bottom lip, keeping her mouth partially parted. Her nails, short and filed smooth, rake through his short hair where her arms wrap around his neck. He shudders, his eyes closing, then flying back open so he doesn’t miss looking at her.
“Sometimes,” she admits.
Samira doesn’t expect the desperate whine from Robby that follows.
One of his hands has found its way to the back of her head, gripping and slightly pulling the strands of hair wrapped around his fingers. Samira can't help but move her leg up his calf, trying to push him that much deeper by pressing her foot into his ass. She pulls at his hair in response.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Jack’s syrupy voice is closer, but she doesn’t look over. Samira can feel the heat of him next to her. It’s keeping her from floating to the clouds with Robby.
She nods a few times in quick succession, feeling her breath pick up as she feels Jack’s hand slide next to hers in Robby’s hair. One of his fingers catches on hers when he fists the short strands.
“Hmm?” he asks, moving Robby’s head by his hair to make eye contact. He wants them to be vocal. Robby’s dark eyes look through his lashes, the whites of his eyes taking over underneath, a silent desperate and pleading gaze as if Jack were a god to worship.
She lolls her head to the side and can’t help but look at Jack the exact same way.
“Yeah,” Robby says, low and gravely.
“Uh huh,” Samira says around a high pitched whine and a gasp.
Samira’s focus is drawn back to Robby. She closes her eyes and just feels him. How she’s wrapped around him, tight and hot.
She knows it will only take her a little bit to come. That she’s so keyed up, on the brink of tears, from holding back. Jack rests Robby’s forehead on Samira’s, his hot breath ghosting her face. Her heart rate picks up even more somehow.
“Yeah, she feels good? So tight, so good. He feels good, too. I bet he’s stretching your pussy just right, baby, yeah?”
Samira barely registers Jack speaking.
“Fuck,” Robby curses, broken in the middle and his lips grazing over the skin of her cheekbone.
Both their hands threatening to rip the other's hair out. She clenches; he twitches. She swears she can feel a spurt of precome pour into her.
“You want him to move, baby?” Jack asks, low. “Do you think you two can be good? Just go slow, yeah?”
She feels one of his knuckles rove over the back of her hand and disappear to do the same to the skin of Robby’s sticky shoulder. Samira’s breath comes out in pants at the thought, the anticipation. Robby’s hitches in the same way.
“Look at her, Robby,” he demands, the saccharine tone floating into their ears.
Robby’s sweaty forehead velcro rips from her own skin, and she’s turning to look up at him, aching just as much.
His brown eyes meet hers. She yearns, wants, needs.
She still hates him a little bit. He probably feels the same way.
But she needs him.
“Move.”
It’s immediate. It burns, like lightning strikes her. Robby lifts his hips, his cock only moving an inch (if that) out of her, then back down.
She grinds up deep, a loud gasping moan rushing out of her chest. The wiry hair dusting Robby’s pubic bone scratches at her clit as he pushes his hips deep into hers. Samira digs her nails into whatever skin she can latch onto. Robby’s eyes squint, his mouth hanging open with little grunts, her name once.
It only takes a handful of hard, shallow thrusts and grinds for her to come, constricting around him hard. It washes over her, trickles down to her toes and makes them curl. She moans on every exhale, clutching at Robby’s neck, forcing his forehead to mash into hers, their eyes to bore into each other.
The warmth of his come floods her a moment later and there’s whines of her name ringing in her ears: Samira, Samira, Samira, Samira, Samira. As if he can’t help but say it.
They stay connected through the aftershocks, the slow drip of satiation spreading out through their twitching limbs. Their hearts beating a mile a minute, not daring to look away, not ready to break the spell.
The aftermath is heady. It’s not surprising that the climax of years of built up tension would be so powerful but it’s the relax into intimacy that is unexpected. Like cells and sinew stitching themselves back together over a closing wound. They might have expected themselves to shy away from the revelation, to push away once again, but the urge isn’t there.
Robby is uncharacteristically gentle as he rolls them onto their sides, panting as his thick thumb swipes a sweaty tendril from Samira’s brow. He remains inside her, both of them suddenly and finally unhurried. So much so that they only now notice the fact that Jack has moved from his position on the bed beside them.
He stands at the foot of the bed, looking down at the two of them with an expression that is certainly much too fond for the situation. His thick and twitching cock is fisted in his paw, the pump of his hand measured but firm. Jack grins as they turn to him, his two favorite people in the world, the perfect picture of the aftermath of being thoroughly fucked.
“It felt good huh,” Jack hisses through a particularly tight squeeze. “To be nice to each other.”
They both nod up at him, eyes unfocused and yet still so eager to please.
“That’s what you needed? Right, baby?” he hums as he turns to Samira. “You just needed him to fuck you right?”
She keens at his words, her spent cunt twitching anew. The sensation moves through Robby’s body too. Jack’s eyes follow it.
“Had to fuck it out of your system, huh?” he asks the man whose chest still heaves with exertion. “So you could learn how to treat her right.”
The pace of his pumps quickens, not punishing but determined, chasing the high of watching them move together, come together. It doesn’t take much longer for him to reach his own peak, his groan guttural and drawn out.
Spurts of his spend paint both Robby and Samira. Their chests shining with sweat and now him, thick and warm and dripping. They moan beneath him, a full scale harmony.
Jack’s smile is lazy and smug as he watches them reach for him, squirm for him. If he had known this was all it would take, maybe he would have tried it sooner.
He could only hope the lesson would stick.