Axes & O’s

24. Fox

Chapter 24

Fox

Nathan kneels next to my wife, and it’s a beautiful sight. He flounders, trying to decide what to do once he’s there, his eyes bouncing to the ground where Morgan kneels then back up to me before repeating the process.

Morgan has been my submissive since our young selves even understood what it was. She knows what I like, my cues, what to do and what not to do—not that she always follows the rules I’ve set in place when we’re playing. But she wouldn’t be my brat of a wife if she didn’t disobey and do it often.

“Nathan.” My tone is strong yet lighter than my normal default.

His brown eyes look darker in the fading light, yet the flicker of the fire catches their depths. I take a moment to absorb him, to read the words inside his mind playing like a movie across his face. He’s nervous, and I can’t blame him.

Even though I knew I was attracted to both men and women by the time I was a teenager, my first experience was one I shamed myself over for a long time. Then Morgan came along and helped me realize there was nothing wrong with the way I was, and everything changed for me. I was finally able to learn and accept every aspect of who I am without judgment.

Since then, during every new intimate experience I have, she’s been with me or I with her. Not only have we found it’s best for our relationship to share those times with each other, but Morgan’s presence is grounding and comforting, unlike mine. I often say that she could tame a feral animal if given the opportunity.

Her response is always Why would I need to do that, when I’ve already trained my feral Fox?

“Yes?” Nathan’s honeyed tone breaks me from my trip down memory lane. If Morgan’s head wasn’t down, she’d be questioning me with her eyes, asking why I spaced out.

I consider my next move for a moment. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt tentative in my actions, and my only explanation for it now is that I see a part of myself in Nathan. I want this experience to be good for him. Regardless of if he walks out of this cabin when the snow clears or if this turns into something more, I don’t want to hurt him. At least not in a way he doesn’t ask for.

My hand flexes on the arm of the recliner, and I surrender to my instincts. I lean forward slightly, aware of Nathan’s gaze as I reach out to trace my finger down his jaw before cupping his cheek. The roughness of his stubble feels unfamiliar against my work-worn fingers, sending a shiver through me. Nathan reacts the same way, but he doesn’t hide it—his body vibrates, eyes locked with mine. Yet, despite the trembling, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he surprises me, leaning his face into my touch, so obviously craving more.

I allow him to do it, waiting for him to exhale and for his shoulders to relax. As if he knows that’s what I’m looking for, his hot breath blows across the skin of my wrist where I have a heart tattoo identical to Morgan’s on my skin.

His eyes start to flutter closed. Though it’s sweet, I don’t want him to look away. I tap his cheek lightly, just enough to startle him. “Eyes open.”

His pupils go wide, and he adjusts on his knees. He doesn’t say anything, which is fine for now, though I would’ve preferred to have heard a “Yes, Sir” from his sweet mouth—which I hope will come in time .

Nathan licks his lips, and I watch his pink tongue dart in and out before I trail a finger over the wet skin. They’re soft like Morgan’s, though not as plump. If this wasn’t our first time, I’d have them wrapped around my dick already, but I’m trying to be patient because it’s what Nathan needs. Even if it’s not my strong suit.

“Kiss Morgan.”

Nathan blinks, and his body freezes. I almost smirk because he gave me the reaction I was hoping for. I’m sure he was expecting me to ask him to kiss me or take my cock out, but that’ll come.

“Morgan, eyes up,” I command.

Her gaze locks with mine, and my dick hardens from her quick acquiescence. Fuck, I love her like this. It never gets old. Her hazel irises are tender and gleam with anticipation, and I see a surrender in them that is all mine.

“Kiss her, Nathan. Make my wife taste herself on your tongue.”

I snap my fingers, and that does the trick. Like a puppy with clicker training, he jumps into action, repositioning his body so he can pull her into him.

Nathan drives his tongue into Morgan’s waiting mouth, his hands spearing through her already tangled hair as if he’s a man on death row and she’s his last taste of life.

Morgan moans from the sensations and presses her breasts against the muscles of his chest, rubbing her hard nipples over him so he kisses her deeper.

When Nathan grinds his cock into her round belly, I grip the back of his neck, pulling him off her. I force his attention to me, expecting to see shock on his face or maybe even a little fear. Instead, a grin—a wolfish grin—is on his lips.

Great. Two brats on my hands.

I squeeze his nape, blunt nails digging into the skin in warning. “Naughty boy. ”

Nathan’s mouth parts, but he’s smart and doesn’t say anything. I tilt my head at him in challenge, but he must get the message that if he speaks, there will be consequences.

I glance between the two of them, seeing my wife trying not to smile from their insolence. “Do I have to tie you both up and use your mouths how I want instead?”

Nathan’s eyes darken at the threat, and there’s no way I could miss how his cock bobs in his sweats.

“If that’s what you want, Sir,” Morgan says, her tone sweet and saccharine.

I release my grip on Nathan’s neck then sit back in the recliner. Both my playthings are breathing harder now, naked chests rising and falling.

“No,” I say nonchalantly, unbuttoning the top button of my jeans. Nathan’s hungry gaze watches, his swollen lips parted. “Do you want to do it for me?” I ask.

His eyes snap to mine, and his cheeks tinge pink, but then he nods.

Morgan’s breath stops, and I’d be lying if I said mine didn’t as well. Nathan tentatively brings his hands to the zipper of my jeans, and my lower stomach tenses as the pressure from his fingers grips the metal tab. When he slowly starts to slide it down, the metallic sound of the teeth opening seems to echo throughout the living room. I understand this is a huge moment for Nathan, and I don’t take it lightly.

My attention remains on him, and I study every aspect of his posture and facial expressions to ensure he’s not forcing himself to do something he’s not ready for, but I see no sign of that. Yes, he’s nervous, but he’s eager. Willing.

Once the zipper is down, his fingers flex as if he’s not sure what to do next.

“Do you want to continue?” I ask.

“Yes.”

His tone is even. Self-assured. Which is what I was hoping for. “Yes, what? ”

He blinks, his brain putting the pieces together before he says, “Yes, Sir .”

I hum in satisfaction, and I don’t miss the way Nathan’s lips tip up at the corners as if he’s proud of himself. “Then don’t make me wait, Nathan. Take my cock out.”

“Yes, Sir.”