Chapter 18: Midnight Raid
The deep, dreamless sleep didn't last. Dave surfaced, throat parched and gritty, the phantom taste of Steph’s arousal and Rachel’s sweat still faint on his tongue. The plush bed beside him was empty, cool sheets the only remnant of their shared warmth. Moonlight streamed through the bedroom window, painting silver stripes on the floor. He pushed himself up, muscles protesting with dull aches – souvenirs from Sera’s earlier orchestration in the lounge and the vigorous release with Steph and Rachel. He needed water.
Padding barefoot down the darkened hallway, the house was unnervingly silent. No distant giggles, no rhythmic thumping against walls. Just the low hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen ahead. The scent hit him halfway: rich, dark coffee, freshly brewed, layered over the ever-present, faint musk that seemed woven into the Abode’s very fabric. It was a jarring combination – domestic comfort laced with primal promise.
He pushed through the swinging kitchen door. Moonlight flooded the room through large windows, casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the polished wooden floor. The coffee maker hissed softly on the counter. And there, bent low at the open refrigerator, was Sera.
Her back was to him. She wore a robe of deep crimson silk, expensive and fluid. It had ridden up as she reached for something on a lower shelf, bunching around her waist. The fabric offered no barrier. Her ass was completely bare, pale and full in the moonlight, the curve hypnotic. The shadowed cleft between her cheeks was stark, leading down to the glistening, swollen lips of her pussy, already visibly slick. The scent of her arousal bloomed thickly, cutting through the coffee aroma, potent and demanding.
Dave froze for a heartbeat, the image searing itself into his sleep-fogged brain. Thirst forgotten. Exhaustion momentarily suspended. The sight of her vulnerability, her readiness, ignited something primal and urgent within him. The memory of her sharp commands, her calculated dominance earlier, collided violently with this raw, exposed offering.
He didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. The journalist observing the scene evaporated, leaving only the man responding to an undeniable, visceral pull. He crossed the cool floor silently, his own cock already hardening painfully against his sleep pants.
His hands landed on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the sharp jut of her pelvic bones. She gasped, startled, her head whipping around, eyes wide in the moonlight. Recognition flashed, followed instantly by a dark, predatory gleam.
"Dave? Wha—"
He didn’t let her finish. Using his grip on her hips, he yanked her backwards, pulling her flush against him. Her silk robe bunched further. The heat radiating from her bare ass and exposed cunt against his clothed erection was electric. With his free hand, he shoved his sleep pants down just enough, freeing his cock, already thick and straining. The cool air kissed the heated flesh for a fleeting second.
Then he positioned himself. The broad, slick head of his cock nudged against her dripping entrance. She was impossibly wet, hot, open. He didn’t tease. Didn’t ask.
He slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal, unforgiving thrust.
"OH FUCK!" Sera’s cry was sharp, muffled as her forehead thumped against the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator door. Her body arched, back bowing, ass pushing back against him instinctively. Her hands scrabbled against the smooth metal, finding no purchase.
Dave groaned, a deep, guttural sound ripped from his chest. Her cunt was a scorching vice, impossibly tight, clenching around his invading length. Wetness gushed around his cock as he bottomed out. He held there for a second, buried deep, feeling her inner muscles flutter wildly against him, her shocked gasp echoing against the fridge.
Then he pulled back, almost completely out, leaving just the swollen head nestled at her entrance. He felt her tense, anticipating. He drove forward again. Harder. Faster. Slamming his hips against the soft, yielding flesh of her ass with a meaty smack.
Thwack. Thrust.
Thwack. Thrust.
Thwack. Thrust.
The rhythm was relentless, punishing. He fucked her with raw, animalistic abandon, pinning her slight frame against the unyielding fridge. Her silk robe slipped further, pooling uselessly around her elbows. Her breasts pressed flat against the cold metal, nipples hardening instantly. Her moans were choked, desperate things, punctuated by sharp gasps as he hammered into her.
"Harder!" she managed to rasp, her voice strained against the steel. "Fucking… harder, Dave! Pound this… greedy fucking cunt!"
Her words, filthy and demanding, fueled him. He gripped her hips tighter, fingers bruising, using the leverage to piston into her deeper, faster. The wet, slapping sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the slick squelch of his cock plunging repeatedly into her soaked channel, filled the moonlit kitchen. It was obscene. Visceral. He watched his cock disappear into her glistening pussy with each thrust, then pull back slick and shining before plunging home again.
Her legs trembled. Her ass cheeks rippled with the impact. She pushed back against him now, meeting his thrusts, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft with every slam. "Yes! Fuck! YES! Fill me! Stuff me full of that cock!" Her commands dissolved into wordless cries, high-pitched and ragged.
Dave lost himself in the sensation. The tight, wet heat. The slap of skin. The scent of sex overpowering coffee. The sheer dominance of pinning the sharp, sophisticated Sera against a kitchen appliance and fucking her like an animal. His balls tightened, slapping against her clit with each forward surge. The pressure built, coiling low in his gut, relentless and urgent.
"Gonna… fucking… come!" he grunted, his voice thick, barely recognizable. His thrusts became shorter, harder, frantic. He buried himself deep and stayed there, grinding against her ass, his cock pulsing violently inside her clenching heat.
"DO IT!" Sera shrieked, her body convulsing against the fridge. "Spurt it! Pump your fucking load deep! Breed this slutty hole!"
Her words, her desperate clenching, tipped him over the edge. With a roar that felt ripped from his soul, Dave slammed home one final time and erupted. Thick, hot ropes of cum pulsed from him, flooding her tight channel in hot spurts. He felt her inner muscles milking him, rippling around his shaft as she cried out, her own climax triggered by the feel of him emptying inside her. Her body shuddered violently against him, pinned between his thrusting hips and the cold fridge.
He stayed buried deep, panting harshly, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades, feeling the aftershocks tremble through her. His cock twitched weakly inside her, still spurting the last drops. Her slickness and his release mingled, dripping down her inner thighs onto the polished floor. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the soft drip, drip, drip.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled out. The sudden emptiness made Sera gasp softly. She slumped forward, resting her full weight against the refrigerator, her breathing still uneven. Dave stepped back, pulling up his pants, his own legs unsteady. He watched her, the moonlight catching the sheen of sweat on her back, the slick mess between her legs, the way her shoulders rose and fell.
She pushed herself upright with effort, turning slowly to face him. Her face was flushed, her usually immaculate hair disheveled, strands clinging to her damp forehead. Her eyes, though, held their familiar sharpness, cutting through the post-coital haze. She didn’t bother pulling her robe closed. She looked him up and down, a slow, appraising sweep that lingered on the damp patch staining the front of his sleep pants.
A slow, satisfied smirk curved her lips. Not warm. Not affectionate. Predatory. Triumphant.
"Thirsty, Dave?" she asked, her voice a low rasp, still rough from being muffled against steel. She reached behind her without looking, her fingers closing around the neck of a chilled water bottle she’d originally been reaching for. She tossed it to him. He caught it clumsily, the cold plastic shocking against his heated skin.
She watched him unscrew the cap and take a long, desperate gulp, water spilling down his chin. Her smirk widened, showing a flash of white teeth.
"Good," she purred. She finally tugged her robe closed, the silk whispering against her skin. "You’ll need your strength." She turned towards the hallway, pausing at the door. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight like chips of obsidian. "The night," she said softly, the promise hanging heavy and dangerous in the fragrant air, "is far from over."
Sera’s crimson robe whispered against her skin as she vanished into the shadowed hallway, leaving Dave alone in the moonlit kitchen. Her final words echoed, not a threat, but a stark reminder of the Abode’s unrelenting rhythm. He sagged into one of the sturdy wooden chairs, the cold plastic water bottle slick in his trembling hand. He drained the last of the water, the chill barely registering against the lingering heat thrumming beneath his skin, the phantom clench of Sera’s cunt still vivid.
The silence felt heavy, pregnant. Only the refrigerator’s hum and the faint drip… drip… of their combined fluids on the polished floor broke the stillness. He stared at the wet spot, the stark evidence of what just happened against the fridge, the raw power and submission. His muscles ached pleasantly, deeply. Exhaustion warred with a simmering, low-banked fire Sera had expertly stoked.
A soft gasp cut through the quiet. Dave’s head snapped up. Clara stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide, one hand clutching the neck of a thin cotton nightgown pulled taut over her small breasts. Moonlight caught the startled curve of her lips, the flush blooming high on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered from Dave, slumped in the chair, to the damp patch on the floor near the fridge, then back to him, understanding dawning.
"Oh! Shit. Dave?" she breathed, her voice a hesitant tremor in the large room. "I… I didn’t think anyone else was awake." She took a tentative step inside, barefoot on the cool wood. "Couldn’t sleep," she added, almost apologetically, her fingers twisting the fabric of her nightgown. "Too… wound up. From earlier. You know?"
Dave managed a tired nod, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips. Clara’s timidity was a stark, almost jarring contrast to the demanding intensity of Sera, or the boisterous energy of Steph and Rachel. It was… disarming. Refreshing, even. He leaned back, the chair creaking softly. "Yeah. Join the club. Water?"
She shook her head, her dark hair brushing her shoulders. She drifted closer, her movements hesitant, like a deer approaching a salt lick. Her eyes held his, wide and dark in the dim light, a shy vulnerability radiating from her. "No. I just…" She paused, a deeper blush staining her skin. One hand drifted down from her nightgown, fingertips brushing tentatively over the thin cotton covering her mound. "I was thinking… about before. When Sera shared you. In the lounge."
Dave watched the slow, almost unconscious movement of her hand, the slight press against her sex. He remembered Clara earlier: nestled between his legs while Sera rode his face, her soft moans as he’d licked her, the way she’d ground against his mouth with quiet intensity before Sera demanded dominance. "Yeah?" he prompted softly, his voice rougher than he intended.
"It was… really good," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor near his feet, then back up. Her fingers pressed a little more firmly, a slow circle against herself through the flimsy barrier. "You made me feel… amazing. Warm. Full." She bit her lip, then met his eyes directly, a spark of nervous courage flaring. "Would… would you let me ride you? Again? Now? Just… just for a little while?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, a soft, non-demanding plea that landed differently than any command Sera could utter.
The simplicity of it, the quiet hunger beneath the shyness, resonated deep in Dave’s weary, overstimulated core. It wasn't a demand to perform, to dominate, to prove anything. It was an invitation to shared pleasure, soft and warm. Appreciation for her gentle tone washed over him, a balm after Sera’s sharp edges. He pushed the chair back slightly, the legs scraping softly on the wood. "Yeah, Clara," he said, his voice low and warm. "Come here."
Relief and desire warred in her expression. She stepped between his spread knees, the hem of her nightgown brushing his thighs. Without preamble, she bunched the thin fabric up around her waist, revealing smooth thighs and the neat, dark triangle of her pubic hair already glistening with arousal. The scent of her, muskier and earthier than Sera’s expensive perfume, reached him. She didn't fumble with his pants; her small hands went straight for the waistband of his sleep pants, tugging them down just enough to free his cock, which, despite his fatigue, stirred eagerly at her proximity and the sight of her bare cunt inches away.
She didn’t wait. Grasping his shoulders for balance, Clara lifted herself slightly, positioned the thick head of his cock at her slick entrance, and sank down in one smooth, slow glide. Her breath hitched, a soft "Ohhh," escaping her lips as she took him deep, her inner walls stretching to accommodate his girth. She settled fully onto his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside her snug heat. Her head tipped back, eyes fluttering closed for a second. "Fuck, yes," she whispered, her voice thick with relieved pleasure. "Still so hard. Still so good."
Dave groaned as her cunt enveloped him, tight and wet and welcoming. It was a different heat than Sera’s demanding grip, a softer, yielding pressure that felt like sinking into a warm bath. He instinctively grasped her hips, his fingers finding purchase on the soft skin just above her ass. She began to move, rising slowly until just the head remained inside her, then sinking back down with a deliberate, deep grind, rotating her hips in small circles when she was fully seated. It wasn’t the frantic pace of Rachel or the commanding rhythm of Sera; it was a languid, sensual rocking, a gentle claiming.
Clara’s hands slid up to frame his face, her thumbs brushing his cheekbones. Her eyes, dark and liquid in the moonlight, held his. "Love feeling you like this," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin with each rise and fall. "Inside me. Stretching me." She leaned forward slightly, her small breasts pressing against his chest through her nightgown, her nipples hard points. Her movements became a little more insistent, her hips rolling with more purpose, deepening the friction as she rode him. "Your cock… feels so fucking good, Dave. Fills me up just right."
Dave’s hands slid from her hips to cup her ass, feeling the muscles flex as she worked herself on him. He tilted his hips subtly to meet her downward strokes, aiding her slow rhythm. The sensation was building steadily, a warm, building pressure distinct from the earlier explosive climax. It was deeper, more pervasive, fueled by her quiet intensity and the unexpected intimacy of her gaze. He groaned again, the sound rumbling in his chest. "You feel incredible, Clara. So wet. So tight." He thrust up gently, meeting her descent. "Ride me, baby. Take what you need."
She moaned softly, a sweet, needy sound, her rhythm quickening slightly. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, her head dropping forward so her forehead rested against his. Her breath came faster, puffing warm against his lips. "Gonna come," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Gonna come on your cock, Dave. Keep fucking me… please…" Her hips pistoned faster, her cunt gripping him rhythmically with each downward plunge, the wet sounds of their joining filling the quiet kitchen.
Dave held her gaze, lost in the raw vulnerability and desire in her eyes. He drove up into her harder, matching her increasing urgency, the chair creaking in protest beneath them. The tension coiled tight in his groin, a mirror to the tension tightening her features. "Come on, Clara," he urged, his voice rough. "Let go. Come for me."
Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her body locking rigid for a fraction of a second before it shattered. She slammed down hard onto him, grinding her clit furiously against his pubic bone as wave after wave of climax tore through her. Her cunt convulsed around his cock in powerful, rhythmic spasms, milking him, pulling him irresistibly towards his own edge. "YES! Fuck! Dave! Oh god, YES!" The words tumbled out, breathless and high.
Feeling her pulsing heat, hearing her desperate cries, Dave surrendered. He thrust up one final, deep time, burying himself impossibly deep within her clenching heat, and roared as his own orgasm detonated. Thick jets of cum surged from him, pumping deep into her spasming channel, the sensation of filling her triggering another, smaller convulsion from Clara. They clung to each other, rocking gently through the aftershocks, their harsh breaths mingling.
Slowly, the tremors subsided. Clara slumped forward, boneless, her head resting on his shoulder, her body still cradling his softening cock. Dave held her, one arm wrapped around her back, his other hand still gently cupping her ass. Her breathing gradually evened out against his neck. She planted a soft, almost chaste kiss just below his ear. He tilted his head, pressing his lips gently against the warm skin of her stomach where her nightgown had ridden up. A quiet understanding passed between them in the moonlit stillness, a tender counterpoint to the night’s earlier ferocity.
A quiet understanding passed between them in the moonlit stillness, a tender counterpoint to the night’s earlier ferocity. Clara sighed softly against his shoulder, her body still draped over his, warm and pliant. Dave gently eased her off his lap, his softening cock slipping free with a wet sound that echoed faintly in the large kitchen. "Better?" he murmured, his voice thick.
Clara nodded, pulling her nightgown down, smoothing the fabric over her thighs. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes drowsy but content. "Much," she whispered, offering a small, shy smile. "Thank you, Dave." She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled cheek, her lips lingering for a heartbeat before she turned and padded silently back towards the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.
Dave sat for another moment, the cool air raising goosebumps on his skin. The damp patch on the floor near the fridge gleamed faintly. He pushed himself up, legs feeling heavy but steadier now. The deep thirst returned, insistent. He grabbed another chilled bottle from the fridge, the cold plastic shocking against his palm. He twisted the cap off and drank deeply, gulping the water down until the bottle was half-empty, the cold liquid a sharp counterpoint to the lingering heat simmering low in his belly. The encounter with Clara, soft and intimate, had somehow rekindled the embers Sera had ignited. He felt wired, restless, the exhaustion momentarily pushed aside by a renewed, low thrum of arousal. He capped the bottle, leaving it on the counter.
The hallway back to the bedroom seemed longer, quieter. The scent of sex – Sera’s sharp musk, Clara’s earthier sweetness – clung faintly to him. He pushed open the bedroom door slowly, the soft glow from the hallway spilling onto the plush carpet. The air inside was warmer, thick with the familiar, comforting scent of Steph’s vanilla body lotion and Rachel’s faint floral shampoo, mingled with the deeper, ever-present musk of their shared intimacy. Moonlight filtered through partially drawn curtains, illuminating the vast expanse of the king-sized bed.
Rachel lay curled on her side near the edge, facing away, one arm tucked under her pillow, breathing deep and even. Steph lay sprawled on her back closer to the center, the sheet tangled low around her hips. Her magnificent F-cup breasts, freed from any restraint, dominated the dim light. They spilled gloriously over her ribcage, full and heavy, the pale skin luminous, the dark nipples peaked even in sleep. Dave’s breath hitched. The image he’d carried since leaving – the promise of burying his face in that soft, warm abundance – surged forward, sharpening his renewed arousal into a focused ache.
He shut the door softly, plunging the room back into near darkness. He shed his sleep pants silently, letting them pool on the floor. His cock, already thickening again, bobbed heavily against his thigh. He approached the bed, the plush carpet muffling his steps. He climbed onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Rachel. The bed dipped slightly under his weight. Steph murmured something unintelligible, shifting her head on the pillow but didn’t wake.
Dave knelt beside her, the sight of her bare breasts inches away making his mouth water. He reached out, his hands hovering for a second before settling onto the impossibly soft, warm flesh. He cupped the immense weight of her right breast, his fingers sinking deep into the yielding softness. It was heavy, warm silk over firm muscle. He squeezed gently, feeling the pliant fullness, the responsive heat radiating from within. His thumb brushed over her stiff nipple, drawing a soft sigh from Steph’s lips even in sleep. He leaned down, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent mixed with her unique, musky sleep aroma.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He lowered his head, opening his mouth wide, and engulfed as much of her breast as he could. His lips sealed around the soft swell near the areola, his tongue pressing flat against the warm skin. He sucked gently, pulling the soft flesh into his mouth, feeling the incredible weight and heat against his palate. A low groan rumbled in his chest. He shifted, his mouth moving hungrily to her nipple, drawing the hard peak deep inside. He sucked hard, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, flicking it rapidly.
"Mmfff… Dave?" Steph’s voice was thick with sleep, laced with sudden pleasure. Her hand came up, fingers tangling loosely in his hair, not pushing him away but anchoring him. "Oh fuck… yes…" Her back arched slightly off the mattress, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. "Suck it… suck my tit, baby… harder…"
He obeyed, sucking fiercely, his teeth grazing lightly over the engorged nipple before soothing it with his tongue. His other hand kneaded her left breast, squeezing the heavy globe, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The sensations – the softness filling his mouth, the hard nub against his tongue, the heat radiating from her skin – were overwhelming. He moved his mouth to her other breast, lavishing the same hungry attention on its neglected twin, sucking and licking, burying his face in the soft flesh. Steph moaned louder now, fully awake, her hips shifting restlessly beneath the sheet. "God, yes… your mouth… feels so fucking good on my tits…"
Dave lifted his head, his lips wet, his breathing ragged. He looked down at her, her eyes dark pools in the dimness, her lips parted. "Need more," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hand slid down her flat stomach, fingers slipping beneath the tangled sheet, finding the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into them and tugged them down her hips and thighs in one swift motion. She lifted her hips to help, kicking them off her ankles. The scent of her arousal bloomed instantly, potent and inviting.
He shifted position, kneeling between her spread thighs. The moonlight caught the glistening wetness coating her inner lips, the swollen bud of her clit peeking from its hood. He didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, burying his face between her legs. His tongue flattened against her slick opening, licking upwards in one long, firm stroke from her entrance to her clit. Steph gasped, her thighs clamping around his head. "FUCK! Dave!"
He feasted. His tongue plunged into her hot, wet channel, fucking her with short, hard thrusts, tasting her tangy essence. Then he focused on her clit, sucking the hard nub into his mouth, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue, applying alternating pressure with lips and tongue. Steph cried out, her fingers tightening painfully in his hair, grinding her pussy against his face. "Yes! Oh god, lick my fucking cunt! Eat me! Make me come!" Her cries were sharp, desperate.
He felt her inner muscles begin to flutter wildly against his probing tongue. He doubled down, sucking her clit hard, driving two fingers deep inside her, curling them upwards to stroke that spongy spot inside. Steph’s body went rigid. A strangled scream tore from her throat as her orgasm slammed into her. Her cunt clenched rhythmically around his fingers, gushing hot fluid against his chin. He rode the waves with her, licking and sucking until her tremors subsided into shuddering gasps.
He pulled back, his face wet, breathing hard. Steph lay panting, her chest heaving, her magnificent breasts glistening faintly with sweat. Her eyes met his, heavy-lidded and sated but already sparking with renewed hunger. "Fuck me," she demanded, her voice husky. "Now. Need your cock buried deep inside me. Fill this wet fucking hole."
Dave needed no further invitation. He positioned himself over her, his cock thick and straining, the head slick with her juices and his own saliva. He gripped his shaft, guiding the swollen tip to her glistening entrance. He pressed forward, feeling her hot, yielding flesh part easily around him, still pulsing from her climax. He pushed steadily, sinking inch by thick inch into her incredibly tight, wet heat. Steph moaned, long and low, her head falling back, her hands grasping his shoulders. "Ohhhh yessss… deeper… give it all to me…"
He bottomed out, his hips flush against hers, his cock buried to the hilt inside her clenching cunt. He held still for a moment, savoring the enveloping heat, the incredible tightness. Steph’s inner muscles rippled around him, drawing him deeper still. "So fucking full," she breathed, her eyes locked on his. "Your cock… stretches me so good…"
He began to move. Slow, deep pulls almost all the way out, then powerful thrusts back home, grinding his pelvis against hers. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin filled the room. Steph met his thrusts, lifting her hips, her breasts bouncing with each powerful drive. "Harder!" she gasped. "Fuck me harder, Dave! Pound this greedy fucking pussy!"
He obeyed, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, driving into her with piston-like force. The bedframe creaked softly in protest. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss, tasting herself on her lips. His hands found her breasts again, kneading the heavy flesh, pinching her nipples roughly, making her cry out against his mouth. Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper with every thrust. "Yes! Fuck! Breed me! Pump that fucking cock deep!" Her words were filthy, urgent.
The tight, wet friction, her desperate cries, the feel of her massive tits filling his hands, the scent of their sweat and sex – it overwhelmed him. The pressure built rapidly, a tight coil low in his balls. "Gonna come," he grunted, his thrusts turning frantic, shallow. "Gonna fill your fucking cunt!"
"DO IT!" Steph screamed, her body arching wildly. "Spurt it! Fill me up! Mark me inside!"
He slammed home one final time, burying himself impossibly deep, and roared as his orgasm tore through him. Thick, hot ropes of cum pulsed from his cock, flooding her tight channel in hot spurts. He felt her cunt clench rhythmically around him, milking him dry, triggering another sharp cry from her lips as a second, smaller climax shuddered through her. He collapsed onto her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his face buried in the sweaty valley between her breasts, panting harshly against her skin. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close, her own breathing ragged against his ear.
A soft rustle came from beside them. Rachel stirred, rolling onto her back. Her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light. She took in the scene: Dave collapsed on Steph, Steph’s legs still wrapped around him, the scent of sex thick in the air. A slow, knowing smile spread across Rachel’s face. She propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze traveling over Dave’s back, down to where he was still buried deep inside Steph. Her small hand reached out, fingertips tracing a feather-light path down Dave’s spine, over the curve of his ass. "Looks like someone started the party without me," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep and burgeoning arousal. Her fingers dipped lower, brushing the tight join where his body met Steph’s, slick with their combined release. "Room for one more?"