Page 80 of Forged

My palm wraps around the back of his neck, fingers threading into the short hair at the base of his skull. His skin is warm, hair soft. The contact sends a spark straight down my spine. Our lips meet and our breaths are sharp inhales, the tension between us pouring into the kiss. It’s testing, his lips teasing mine, both of our bodies inching over Neomi’s between us.

This isn’t about proving anything. It’s not about dominance or spectacle. It’s about the pull that’s been humming between us since our eyes met across the room downstairs.

“Are you okay?” I ask him quietly.

His lips curve, but his eyes stay fixed on me. “Lars, be a good boy and kiss me again.”

I pull him toward me again. This time, there’s no tentative brush of lips. It’s heat and pressure and the unmistakable clash of two men who are filled with want. His mouth opens to mine instantly and fuck, I want more. His hand tightens on my thigh and then slowly slides higher.

My grip in his hair firms, angling him the way I want. He answers with equal force, his free hand coming up to my jaw, thumb pressing under my chin. I lose myself in it, the taste of him, the sounds he makes, the scruff of his stubble against my cheek.

Behind us, I hear Neomi’s breath catch. That sound threads through everything in me. I pull back just enough to look at her. She’s watching like she’s witnessing something sacred. Her chest rising fast, her thighs pressed together, eyes dark. There’s no uncertainty in her expression. Only fascination and want.

“Still good?” I ask her.

“Fuck, Lars. That was so hot,sofucking hot,” she says, breathless.

The dancer giggles beside us. That’s when Gabriel moves, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Sweetheart,” he says, handing Christy his phone. “Do me a favor—Drop your Venmo.”

Her brows lift, but she taps the screen with a smile and returns the phone. His thumb flicks across the screen, and a moment later her phone buzzes in her hand. She checks it and her eyes go wide.

“Good on your promise,” she says, rising from her chair. “I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

She bends to kiss Neomi’s cheek, then she adjusts her thong, scoops her tips from the table, and with a wink at us she drifts back into the glow of the main floor.

And then it’s just the three of us.

Gabriel places a kiss just below Neomi’s ear, then he rises to move to my lap. He straddles my legs and I can feel his hard cock against me. His mouth returns to mine before I can say another word, and this time I let it deepen. His kiss shifts—less sharp, becoming gentle and even more consuming. His hand finally slides over the hard line of my cock through my pants, his palm pressing with firm curiosity. I exhale against his mouth.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

My hand drops to his waist, feeling the solid line of muscle beneath his shirt, the heat of him. There’s something addictive about the way he responds. He meets me head-on; he doesn’t expect me to lead. And that turns me on more than I care to admit.

And through it all, I track Neomi. She leans forward, fingers sliding into my hair again, then into Gabriel’s. I let her guide my lips to hers and I kiss her gently. Her tongue slides against the seam of my lips and when I open for her, Gabriel wraps his hand around the outline of my cock. I see fucking stars.

I slow the kiss and when I pull back, I see my wife wrecked. Gabriel’s breathless in my lap, lips pink from mine. The sight of the two of them nearly undoes me right then and there.

It’s beautifully erotic.

Neomi looks at me, eyes clear. “Lars, if you ever feeluncomfortable or if I cross a line, we stop. Promise me that you’ll tell me.”

“I promise. Now tell me, Bella,” I say, voice rough. “How far do you want this to go?”

Her smile deepens as she joins her hand with Gabriel’s.

“I want to leave.”

She moves their hands to cup my dick.

“And I want him to leave with us.”

There’sa sleek black car with a driver waiting under the valet canopy when we walk outside. The driver opens the door as Lars and Neomi approach.

I clear my throat. “My place for a nightcap?”

Neomi lifts a shoulder, looking to Lars. “I’d like a drink.”