Actions

Work Header

When the World is Free

Chapter Text

 

Claire awoke slowly, aware first and foremost of the pleasant soreness between her legs. She nuzzled into the warmth of Jamie’s chest, keeping her eyes closed, and then she became aware of a second thing.

A hand touching hers that was decidedly not Jamie’s.

She opened her eyes lazily, smiling, remembering. She laced her fingers with John’s, and he smiled back at her. Then she noticed the hand moving through John’s hair, and she briefly glanced up to see that Jamie was awake too.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said groggily, stretching out for a minute before curling up again. She flashed her eyes down at the tent in the blanket. “Good morning to you, too.”

Jamie swatted at her arse, and she squeaked, and John chuckled.

“Can ye blame me? Waking up wi’ the reminders of what happened on either side of me?” He looked back and forth between each lover, and Claire’s heart skipped a beat to see John reach up to kiss Jamie deeply, less hesitant than he’d been the previous night.

She truly loved watching them, watching this. She also loved joining, but there was something so inexplicably beautiful about just watching her husband be loved so purely. And watching him love in return.

She’d known all along. From the moment he’d confessed to kissing him, to initiating the kiss, she could sense something that she wasn’t ready to admit to herself, that Jamie wasn’t ready to admit to himself. Then even when Jamie returned and he was burning alive with jealousy, Claire had caught fractions of moments between her two men, and she knew. She knew before Jamie did.

Jamie had always loved him.

And that wasn’t to say that Claire had ever been chased from his mind or his heart. He somehow had always loved both. And Claire would not have begrudged him that for their entire lives together. She couldn’t understand, but she could accept that Jamie had that part of him, even if he couldn't ever have done anything about it. But then all this had happened, and she very quickly understood. She hated herself for ever thinking that Jamie would be happy repressing the part of him that longed for John. Because if Claire had had to do it after everything…she’d never be truly happy again.

The kiss in front of her was growing in fervor, and she instinctively glanced at the cradle to assure herself that Brianna would not stir. John climbed into Jamie’s lap, straddling him. Claire fiddled with the sheets and blankets so they could be unencumbered, and then laid back to watch. They kissed madly until they were grunting and groaning like rutting beasts, and John pulled away.

“Do you…” he said breathlessly. “You could…”

He gulped, then guided Jamie’s hand to his arse, dipping their joined fingers in the slit.

“If you want.”

Jamie’s eyes were darker than Claire had ever seen, and she felt her insides melting. She licked her lips and sat up. Jamie looked to Claire for guidance, or perhaps approval.

“If you want to, Jamie,” Claire said, cupping his face and kissing him sweetly. “Then I want you to.”

Jamie nodded, and Claire’s stomach flipped.

“Hold on.”

She swung her legs off the bed and reached into the nightstand for the lubricant that she’d had Jamie purchase in case she had any trouble after the birth. Evidently she hadn’t, but it would now prove useful anyway. She held it up for the men to see, and Jamie nodded in understanding. She got up on her knees behind John, her entire body covered with gooseflesh.

“On your knees, Soldier.”

She saw John shiver, but he obeyed, lifting up from his position straddled across Jamie’s lap. He braced his hands on Jamie’s shoulders as Claire unscrewed the lid and coated her fingers. Jamie tried to see around John to watch Claire, but the man in his lap obstructed his view. He settled instead on watching John’s face as Claire worked, and she was admittedly jealous that she couldn't see what he was seeing, even as he likely wished he could see what she was seeing.

She wondered how long Jamie had fantasized of this, or if he’d even thought of it. Had something like this even crossed his mind to do to another man?

Claire coated John’s slit and then gathered more of the grease. She smiled wickedly when she found his entrance, and her fingers slid in easily. He groaned deliciously, and she could see Jamie’s cock twitch at the sound. She probed him for a bit, thoroughly greasing him and preparing him for Jamie. Admittedly, she was enjoying it far too much, and went on longer than perhaps she needed to.

She removed her fingers and trailed them up his spine tantalizingly. She bit his earlobe, eliciting a soft gasp.

“He’s all ready for you, Jamie.”

Jamie licked his lips and tightened his jaw, and John breathed heavily. He pushed Jamie’s shoulders back until Jamie was lying down, propped up into a half sitting position by the pillows. Jamie’s hands traveled to John’s hips, squeezing with white knuckles. Claire exhaled tremulously, repressing the temptation to touch herself.

John was going to ride him, the way she always rode him.

Jamie watched, completely mesmerized as John grasped Jamie’s cock, holding it in place, and then lowered himself. John’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as a stuttering moan echoed through him. Jamie groaned as well, louder and louder as John took each inch of him in. They both groaned in time with one another when Jamie was fully sheathed, John settling on him, adjusting.

Even if Claire wanted to touch herself now, she couldn’t. She was frozen, her eyes glued to Jamie’s face, strained in a way she’d never seen. He was beet red all the way down to his stomach, a sheen of sweat covering his whole body, beading on his forehead. The crease between his brow that she knew so well was there, his pupils blown wide.

“Christ…” he grunted. “It’s…it’s so…”

John nodded wordlessly, breathing heavily. He braced one hand on Jamie’s abdomen and the other behind him on Jamie’s thigh.

“Oh, Jamie…” he breathed, a heavenly sigh that made Claire’s heart flutter. “Oh…fuck…”

John began rolling his hips, and Jamie moaned loudly. Claire thought she might explode. She had never heard John sound so filthy. It was erotic beyond description, even more than it was when Jamie did. Jamie was always rough around the edges, primal. But John was so god damned refined…

Fuck, Jamie…” he went on, “you feel like Heaven. Oh God…”

He threw his head back in ecstasy, and his filthy mouth didn’t stop there. He went on and on, growing more and more unintelligible by the second. Jamie seemed incapable of speech, which was likely for the best. Claire might have keeled over if they were both talking filth to one another.

John increased his tempo, and it was unclear if it was of his own volition or if it was because Jamie was moving his hips for him. Jamie was now arching his back off the mattress, adding his own thrusting into the mix. They were loud. John was even louder than he’d been the previous night. He’d cry himself hoarse soon. Jamie was always relatively loud, never matching Claire, but now, he was making sounds she didn’t think him capable of. Claire watched, utterly mesmerized at the sight of John’s cock slamming against Jamie’s stomach muscles, back and forth with the force of his riding.

As if hypnotized by a merchant with a pendulum, Claire was drawn to John’s cock, and she literally could not stop herself from reaching out to grasp it. He yelled then, tightening his grip on Jamie’s flesh. Before Claire could set a proper rhythm, John paused. Jamie had moved his hands off of him.

She felt them then, on her own hips.

“Come here, mo ghraidh,” he growled, his voice hoarse. “I can see ye dripping from here.”

She gaped at him for a moment, until he tugged her arse toward his face.

“Holy God,” she breathed, her voice thin and frail.

She was, indeed, dripping, and as she spread her legs above Jamie’s face, he licked every inch of it off her inner thighs before kissing her there, and Claire screamed. With nowhere else to brace herself, she grasped John’s shoulders, and he growled into a kiss. He found purchase in her breasts, kissing her madly, like a man starved. Jamie’s tongue worked madly on her, dipping in and out, flicking rapidly over her apex, as John’s tongue lapped at her mouth, her neck, her nipples, all while he rode Jamie to oblivion.

She was not going to last very long at all.

As predicted, she was gyrating her hips on Jamie’s face in a matter of minutes, and John was slamming up and down, Claire’s wrist burning with the speed of her hand on his cock.

“Oh, Claire, Jamie, fuck…”

John did not seem to know who he should call to as he shot his seed on Jamie’s stomach, crying out against Claire’s mouth. Claire was next, as John was still spilling into her hand. She came fiercely, almost painfully, and John sank his teeth into her lower lip. Jamie was not long after; John had not stopped riding, and Jamie was thrusting like a man possessed, especially now that he’d seen Claire to completion. His cries were muffled for obvious reasons, but Claire could see his hips stutter and still, could feel his grip on her arse tighten, and could hear John’s soft moan at the sensation of being filled with Jamie’s seed.

They were clinging to each other like their lives depended on it, John and Claire. She had her arms wrapped all the way around his neck, and he fully enveloped her in return, breathing into her hair, kissing her head, sighing and groaning with aftershocks. Claire gripped a handful of John’s hair for no other reason than she felt that she must, that she needed to hold onto him in any way she could.

“You’re not leaving me.”

She said it before she realized she had.

“No,” he answered, squeezing tighter. “Never, love. Never.”

Even after what had transpired the previous night, she was still afraid. Afraid she’d wake up and he’d be gone, too ashamed or afraid to stay, or that Jamie would have changed his mind after all.

She felt herself lift up a bit, Jamie lifting her, and when next she sat down, it was in Jamie’s lap, leaning against his chest, still clinging to John.

Love.

Is that what this was?

Claire felt a kiss on the back of her neck from Jamie, then felt his forehead rest there. His arms wound around her waist, below John’s arms.

“Do you, John?”

“Do I what?”

“Love…?” Claire’s voice trailed off, afraid of the answer.

“Because I…” she went on in spite of herself. “I think I must.”

She felt him swallow, and then she felt wet droplets on the crown of her head, christening her.

“Yes,” he gasped, lacing his fingers tighter in her knotted mess of hair. “Yes, my dear. I think I must love you.”

She fervently kissed the crook of his neck that she was buried in, but it wasn’t enough. She untangled herself from him to kiss him soundly on the lips. Jamie’s hands roamed up to absently knead her breasts in his hands, gently, with no further intentions than to just touch them. As if for comfort.

Claire kept one hand on John’s cheek as she extricated herself from Jamie’s grip, and she made herself the point of a triangle, John and Jamie now facing one another. She cupped Jamie’s cheek with her other hand, and she kissed him, even as she rubbed circles on John’s cheek with her thumb.

“I love you, Jamie,” she assured him gently. “Do you believe that?”

“Of course,” he said with no hesitation.

She smiled at him sweetly before kissing John again. “And I love you.”

She glanced back and forth between them, and she saw none of the prior animosity in Jamie. She could not read him, not at first. He was staring at John, and John was staring back.

They both want to say it.

Neither of them did.

They sat in silence for a long while, Claire keeping a hand on each of their faces. Jamie turned his face to kiss her palm, and that was when Claire noticed that Jamie’s fingertips rested oh so gently on John’s knee.

“I think…” Claire finally broke the silence, “we need to talk.”

What she wanted was to curl back into Jamie’s side and pull John behind her, to fall back asleep in their combined warmth, combined love. But they could not keep walking on eggshells. She let her hands fall into her lap, glancing back and forth.

“I’ll not stand for having to choose between you,” Claire went on. “You’re both mine now.”

“How?” Jamie finally spoke. “How can ye be married to us both? How can we...explain? To everyone...including our daughter?”

“All she needs to know is that we love her. And that we love each other,” Claire said. “That’s all that matters.”

“I agree that...love is what matters most,” John said carefully. “But it’s...this isn’t...normal. What we’re doing is...immoral. To most people.”

“I don’t care,” Claire snapped, her eyes flashing defiantly. “Did you care that loving a man was considered immoral to most people?”

John swallowed. “I did, Claire. But I was powerless to stop it.”

“And I am powerless to stop this,” she said emphatically.

“I understand,” John said, taking her hand. “I do.”

“Ye’ll also be powerless to stop the ridicule,” Jamie said darkly. “I heard the shite they spewed at John in the camp. People are cruel.” He stared over John’s shoulder at the wall, unseeing, unblinking. “We’ll never know peace.”

“I know peace,” Claire insisted, grasping Jamie’s hand. “Lying here, with you, both of you, watching you play with our daughter…”

Jamie shook his head. “Children are cruel. They’ll torment her. She’ll be punished fer the way we live our lives.”

“So what do you suggest? Giving it up?”

“I dinna ken,” Jamie snapped.

“Because I won’t.”

“I won’t either,” he growled, finally snapping his head to look at Claire. Then he lifted his fiery eyes to John, breathing heavily. “I won’t.”

John lifted their joined hands and kissed Jamie’s knuckles, maintaining eye contact.

“I won’t either,” he said.

Claire smiled weakly. “At least we’re in agreement there.”

“But what do we do?” John bore his eyes into her.

Claire took a deep breath, looking first to Jamie, then to John. “I don’t want to divorce you.” John flashed a worried look to Jamie as well. “I don’t want to go through the process of legally extricating myself from someone I love only to marry someone else I love. It feels too much like choosing. This is the way the pieces fell into place, and I don’t want to alter it.”

John nodded thoughtfully, but Jamie didn’t move.

“Jamie, I know you always wanted to get married in the church in Broch Mordha, with your family there. Could you...could you be happy without that?”

He didn’t speak for a moment, very deep in thought.

“The war...and all that it brought me...forced me to accept that life wasna going to go according to plan,” he said carefully. “You are the biggest result of that.” He locked eyes with John, who looked as if he didn’t know whether or not to be ashamed. “And the bairn.”

Claire nodded in acute understanding. Brianna had not been part of any plans, not right now. But neither had a world war.

“I can...accept that things have changed,” Jamie said finally. “I can live wi’out plans coming to fruition because I...I’m just glad to be alive at all.” His voice broke, and Claire squeezed his hand and nuzzled into his shoulder, kissing it. “There was a time I thought I’d never have this,” he gestured down to Claire, “or this.” He kissed John’s knuckles. “I didna ken I needed it, but I canna imagine my life wi’out it now.

“But…” Claire picked up her head to look at him as he continued. “I need to know my place in this. If ye stay married...I need to know where I fit.”

“Jamie…” Claire began. “You fit right here. You fit with us.”

“I ken.” He sounded frustrated, as if they weren’t understanding. He sat up straighter. “I ken enough that there’s enough room in yer hearts...but...fer one thing, I’ll not have my child be told I’m no’ her father.”

“Jamie! I wouldn’t!”

“Aye, it sounds unthinkable, but listen,” he went on urgently. “Everybody knows ye carried her, and ye’re married to John. Legally, on paper, she’s his blood. I have no place there.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but it died on her lips. He was right.

“Telling her the truth before she’s old enough to understand could be dangerous. For her as well as us,” Jamie went on. “But I couldna stomach her calling me Uncle. I couldna.” He spat the word like a curse. Claire deduced that Jamie had spent more time thinking about this than he’d ever let on.

The thought of raising Brianna and not being called Mummy was enough to turn her stomach. “Alright,” Claire said gently. “We’ll have to think of something.”

John nodded. “She’ll know as close to the truth as we can tell her,” he said.

Jamie nodded. “Aye. We’re to be on equal footing as parents.”

“Of course,” Claire agreed fervently.

“And,” he went on. “As partners.”

Claire waited for him to elaborate.

“If he is yer husband, then I am. I can accept formalities and legalities...but here, in our bed and in our home, ye’re mine just as much as his.”

Claire nodded emphatically. “Yes, love. Of course.”

“And…” Jamie trailed off, looking at John. “The same goes fer you.”

Claire noticed he did not go as far as to refer to John as his husband.

Too soon, she thought. Maybe someday.

John leaned forward to cup Jamie’s cheek. “I have always been yours, Jamie. And I always will be.”

They sealed that promise with a kiss, and Claire’s heart swelled. They allowed the blissful moment to pass caressing each other and gazing lovingly.

“Where should we go?” Claire said, interrupting the silence.

“Go?” Jamie raised a brow.

“Well we can’t stay here,” she said simply. “Brianna can’t share the room forever.”

Jamie made a Scottish noise in the back of his throat. “Aye, ye’re right.”

“And we don’t have to stay in London,” Claire suggested. “Do we?”

“Well…” John began hesitantly. “My work is here, but I suppose I could be an architect anywhere…”

“You get as much say as we do, John,” Claire said firmly. “We don’t have to leave. But…” She glanced at Jamie, then back to John. “I want to be a doctor. When Brianna is older, I want to go to medical school.”

John beamed with pride. “That’s wonderful, my dear.”

Jamie carried pride for his wife, but his expression was otherwise vacant.

“What are you thinking?” John asked him.

Jamie grunted in frustration. “I dinna care where we go.”

“It depends what you want to do,” Claire said. “I know you don’t want to be at John’s firm forever. Buying land would be tricky, because it would take us farther from any city, but a commute — ”

“I dinna want to do anything,” Jamie snapped suddenly, and Claire’s heart pinched. “I want to be a husband, and a father. I want to be part of this family.”

Claire and John exchanged a look. “Remember all that talk of a cottage on your family land? Horses, and wheat fields?” Claire prompted gently. “Is that still something you’d want?

“I canna go back home,” he said quickly. “It’s no’ that I’m...ashamed. I’m just...I’m no’ ready to explain. I dinna wish to think of it.”

“Okay,” Claire soothed. “That’s alright.”

Claire stroked Jamie’s hair, watching him anxiously. Jamie had studied languages at university in France; that’s where he’d met Claire. He had a brilliant mind, but his heart was always with the land, with the beasts in the stable, with his family. She wondered if perhaps the war had taken some of that from him, had made him dread the feeling of mud beneath him rather than relish in it, if the vastness of a no-man’s-land had taught him to fear an open field.

He was lost, and the only thing he was certain of was family, this family.

“You don’t have to be anything more than you want to be,” she went on. “We’re here.”

As if to proclaim to her father that she was there too, Brianna began fussing and broke into an all-out wail before Claire finished tying off her robe.

Claire flitted over to the cradle, tutting and hushing, and when she sat down in her rocking chair to nurse, John was sitting up against the pillows with Jamie tucked into his side, curly red head on John’s narrow and muscled torso. They had the blankets draped over their hips, creating a fluttering pattern over their tangled legs: the makings of a breathtaking sculpture. Soldiers Embrace, she’d call it.

Jamie was watching Brianna with piercing attentiveness, the love in his eyes enough to break her heart. John stared for a while at the growing light out the window, absently playing with Jamie’s hair with the hand on the end of the arm draped around his shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you two be getting ready for work?” Claire chided gently.

“Ach, let it be fer a bit, Sassenach,” Jamie mumbled into John’s chest, kissing it, his eyes never leaving Brianna. “Let me have peace.”

——

About a week later, Claire was sitting at the dressing table in their bedroom, putting final touches on her makeup. In the mirror, she could see behind her that Jamie was tying John’s tie while John held onto Brianna, babbling to her. She stared for a moment, overcome once again with her own luck. As she moved on to putting in her earrings, Jamie finished with the tie, and he straightened John’s collar before putting his hands on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him sweetly. They’d been getting more and more comfortable being openly affectionate with one another, more and more emboldened. Claire was glad of it.

John was also becoming more and more forward with Claire, less and less worried about how Jamie would react with every passing day. As if to prove right Claire’s train of thought, John handed Brianna off to Jamie and approached the dressing table, grasping her shoulders and fervently kissing her temple.

“You look enchanting, my dear.” He smiled at her through the mirror, and she blushed, smiling back. It was strange to her, how she blushed at John’s affections like a schoolgirl after all they’d been through. Even though they were married, she supposed they were still in that courting stage of their relationship, as strange as it may seem.

It amazed Claire every day that John could love her, not in spite of her being a woman, but because of it. John could not make any sense of it when asked; the only thing to do was to accept that this was the truth.

“Thank you, darling,” Claire returned, covering one of his hands on her shoulder. “You’re rather dashing yourself.” She gave his hand a squeeze and then put on her other earring. “I’m just about finished.”

John nodded in acknowledgement, and they both looked up at the same time to see Jamie staring at them through the mirror.

“Are you sure this is alright, Jamie?” John said, turning away to go to him. “I know it isn’t easy. It would be eating me alive if the roles were reversed.”

“Aye, well,” Jamie said gruffly. “It is eating me alive. But there’s nothing to be done about it.”

Claire turned in her seat, finished with the mirror. “I don’t have to go.”

“Aye, ye do,” he insisted. “That’s how the world works.”

Claire swallowed thickly, and John grimaced. “I wish it didn’t,” John said quietly.

Tonight, John was going for dinner at the boss’s house, and he was to bring his wife.

Not on the invite list was the handfast husband of his wife/man who was essentially his own husband.

This was the first of many things of the like that Jamie would be forced to be left out of, and it wasn’t fair.

“My whole life, I…” Jamie trailed off, tightening his grip on Brianna and inhaling the scent of her from the crown of her head. “Well, when I met Claire, that is, I had this image of...paradin’ her around and telling the world that she was my wife. The...greatest honor and privilege. And I canna share it.”

“I know, Jamie,” Claire mumbled, getting up and going to him. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I wouldna have it any other way, dinna mistake me,” he added. “It just...to no’ be able to claim ye as my wife, and you, as my…” Jamie trailed off again, staring at John.

“I know,” John said, cupping Jamie’s cheek and pressing his forehead to his. Claire lifted the baby from Jamie’s arms, giving her a kiss and settling her on her hip. Jamie reciprocated in kind, and they were both holding each other’s faces.

“I love you, James Fraser,” John whispered. “I told you once, and I’ve been too cowardly to tell you again. But God, I do.” He pressed his lips to his for a brief but tender kiss. “Please don’t forget it.”

Claire watched every possible emotion dance across Jamie’s face, his eyes roaming all over John’s, as if searching for any trace of untruth. Jamie’s throat bobbed, his jaw tightening, and he looked as if he might be in pain.

“I..I ken, John,” he whispered hoarsely. “I...I love you, too.”

Claire’s chest ached, astonished at what she was hearing. John seemed to be in as much disbelief as she was, because he gasped with a shudder, then kissed Jamie again, in relief. When their lips parted, Jamie went on:

“And that’s what makes this so feckin painful.”

Claire’s heart nearly tore in two at the break in Jamie’s voice, at the tears rolling down his cheeks. John brushed them away with his thumbs, and Claire moved in closer to grasp the back of Jamie’s neck, pressing her forehead into his cheek. She kissed his cheek as John kissed his lips, Brianna cooing and patting Daddy’s face.

“We love you, Jamie,” Claire affirmed. “What the world sees doesn’t matter. Not one bit.”

“Remember what we said,” John added. “In our bed and in our home, I am yours as much as hers. And she is yours as much as mine.”

Jamie nodded wordlessly, brushing his stubbled cheek against Claire’s.

“We’ll make it up to you, Jamie,” Claire promised. “Tonight, when we get back. We are all yours.”

“Aye,” he said. “Mine.”

——

Claire was pleasantly tipsy when they arrived home, having needed the alcohol to put up with the inane drawling of John’s boss, and his wife as well. She was more than grateful to be home. Not to mention this had been the longest she’d ever been away from Brianna in the baby’s entire lifetime, and as silly as it sounded, she missed her terribly every second she sat at that dinner table. They’d been able to leave earlier than a few of the other couples with the excuse that Brianna was still nursing, and Claire was eternally grateful.

When Claire and John entered the flat together, Jamie was sitting on the sofa with his knees up, resting Brianna there, muttering quietly to her in Gaelic. Claire’s heart fluttered, and a goofy smile plastered itself on her face.

“Oh, there’s my girl…” She floated over to the sofa and dipped down to kiss Jamie’s cheek as she lifted Brianna off of his lap. “Hello, darling. Oh...my sweetheart, I missed you so much!”

Brianna immediately began fussing. “Ah, there she goes,” Jamie said lightly. “She started whimpering in hunger about an hour ago, but I kept her calm until now.”

“Oh…” Claire cooed, bouncing Brianna as she made her way to an armchair. “Did Mummy remind you how hungry you were? Were you so very hungry without Mummy?”

John loosened his tie and sat down with a great sigh on the couch, and Jamie immediately pulled into his side like a magnet, kissing his cheek and nuzzling into his neck. John hummed in appreciation, lacing his fingers in Jamie’s hair, his head tipped back on the cushion.

Brianna settled down and latched onto Claire’s already leaking nipple. She played with the curling red tufts on her soft head, listening to the sound of her greedy guzzling. Lost for a moment in the heaven of holding her baby, she almost didn’t hear another sound, a suckling of a different sort.

She looked up to see Jamie veritably attacking John’s face with his mouth, tongues battling for dominance.

“Don’t you dare start without me,” Claire protested, but they did not stop. She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Brianna. “You’d better count your blessings that you won’t remember any of this, little girl. They’re shameless, really.”

Once she was fed, Claire retreated to the bedroom to burp her, change her, and put her down. When she returned to the living room, both men were already shirtless, John straddling Jamie’s lap, lapping at his nipples. Claire wanted to groan in exasperation at their impatience, but instead, she found herself flushing red and desperate with need.

A few days ago, Jamie had fully taken her for the first time since the birth, and God how she had missed that feeling. Then John had taken her, while Jamie took John. She found herself lying awake at night, imagining all the different possibilities, all the different ways the three of them could come together.

They did not even seem to notice her arrival, so she marched right in front of the sofa, clearing her throat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, turning around slowly. “I hate to interrupt, but I think you’d like to see this.”

Her desire and her boldness were heightened by the liquor swimming in her brain. She bent down to grasp the hem of her dress and slowly, tormentingly slowly, lifted it up. When the silken white underwear was exposed, she heard both of their breaths catch in their throats, and she smiled triumphantly. She dipped her thumbs in the hem of the shorts, sliding them down with another tantalizing bend forward. She stepped out of them, leaving her stockings on, and then turned to face them. Jamie reached for her with a growl, but Claire stepped back.

“Ah-ah,” she scolded. She made eye contact with each man, smiling wickedly. “Finish undressing each other. Now.”

Jamie turned bright red, his throat bobbing, and John made a small whimpering sound. The two fools fumbled with each other’s belts and flies and underpants, and Claire sucked in a breath as both of their solid members sprang free at once. They each tossed the other’s clothing over their shoulders, and Claire hummed approvingly.

“That’s better,” she crooned, taking a step to them again. She straddled Jamie’s lap without taking him inside, pressing his cock into his stomach again. He hissed and then moaned, greedily reaching under her dress to seize her arse.

“Mm,” Claire moaned, licking a trail up his throat and scratching his shoulders roughly. “I missed you, love.”

With a roar, Jamie captured Claire’s lips with his own, devouring her. He swallowed her moans as she rolled her hips, just wet enough to make grinding against him absolutely delicious. Jamie kept one hand on her arse and used the other to pump John slowly, going back and forth between kissing him and Claire.

Suddenly, like a man possessed, Jamie stood up, lifting Claire bodily and depositing her beside the arm of the couch. He bent her over it, rucked up her dress, and entered her with a growl, piercing Claire so deeply that she practically screamed. She dug her nails into the upholstery, arching her back and neck, feeling heat creep up from where Jamie entered her all the way up every inch of her skin. John crawled across the length of the sofa, kissing Claire on his hands and knees as Jamie pounded into her mercilessly.

Claire knew quite well that Jamie was enjoying this, squeezing and pulling apart and pushing together the halves of her arse like a sculptor. He did not fully undress her, but something told her that he enjoyed that part, too. Even Claire had to admit that there was something about her skirts rucked up about her that was inexplicably erotic. Not to mention the stockings. They had to be driving Jamie mad.

John pumped himself while kissing Claire, while watching Jamie slam into her. Claire wished she could reach out and do it for him, but she’d have fallen on her face from the sheer force of Jamie.

“Mine,” Jamie suddenly choked out. “This is mine.”

“Yes!” Claire cried out hoarsely, arching her back as far as she could. “I’m yours, Jamie. Use me. I’m yours.”

Use her he did, moaning and groaning, Claire’s cries reaching new heights in pitch and volume. John suddenly stood up, and Claire peered over her shoulder to see him kiss Jamie deeply, lapping his tongue in Jamie’s mouth. Jamie kept one hand braced on Claire’s hips, his thrusts slowing as he roughly seized John’s cock.

Mine,” Jamie growled, and John whimpered, his head falling onto Jamie’s shoulder.

“Yes, Jamie,” he answered, his voice thin and frail. “I’m yours, my love. God, I love you.”

John kissed him deeply again, and then he pulled away.

“I’ll be right back,” John said throatily, the closest to a growl he’d ever come. He retreated to the bedroom, and Claire very suddenly deduced what he intended. Jamie was moving slowly in her, unable to keep still, but he was careful not to go too far before John returned. It was driving Claire mad, and she wriggled her hips desperately.

When John returned, he did indeed have the jar of grease with him. Claire felt Jamie melt behind her, his eyes hooding.

“Do you trust me, Jamie?” John whispered.

Jamie swallowed thickly; Claire could hear it.

“Aye,” he croaked, and Claire felt his cock twitch inside her.

“Then let me show you,” John murmured, opening the grease and dipping his fingers inside. He positioned himself behind Jamie, pushing on his back until Jamie’s chest was pressed flat against Claire’s back.

“Let me show you that you are mine,” John said.

“Aye,” Jamie gasped, his grip on Claire’s hips tightening painfully. “Show me, mo chridhe. I’m yers.”

Though neither man was speaking to Claire, she let out a moan anyway, unable to suppress what these protestations were doing to her. When John’s first finger entered Jamie, he stiffened against Claire, inadvertently thrusting deeper into Claire, and she bit her lip. She very well might die if Jamie didn’t start moving again soon. The anticipation was deadly.

Jamie gradually relaxed, and he began making sounds that Claire had never heard before. He yelped when a second finger followed the first, and Claire moaned as he finally started moving again, thrusting against John’s hand.

“Is it alright?” John asked, murmured against the skin of Jamie’s back.

“Aye,” Jamie choked out. “Oh, Christ...I need ye inside me, man.”

John shuddered, his breath stuttering out of his mouth, and Claire’s stomach turned to liquid. John lined himself up, folding himself over Jamie’s back, and Claire could feel their combined weights pressing her into the arm of the couch. Her arms gave out, doubling her over onto the cushions.

“I’ll go slow,” John assured him, kissing his neck stroking his sides. Jamie made a choked sound, and Claire assumed John had begun. Claire’s patience was growing thin, but she did not want to ruin this moment. Jamie continued to sputter and curse as John fully sheathed himself, and they both sighed with relief when he was fully inside.

“Oh, God help me…” Jamie whimpered.

“Fuck, Jamie…” John groaned, loudly kissing his neck. “You’re exquisite, love. Oh, God…”

John moved slowly, encouraging Jamie to set the pace, and then finally, finally, Jamie was moving inside Claire again. She practically sobbed with relief, arching back and grinding her hips desperately. Jamie was doubly loud now, sensations from both sides likely stimulating him to the point of madness. John was moaning now too, and Claire could feel each of his thrusts as plainly and she felt Jamie’s. Just by the sounds John was making, Claire could tell he was having a difficult time controlling himself. Jamie was growing more and more comfortable with the dual sensation, his thrusts growing more even, regular, and deep.

Still certain this would not be enough, Claire stood up, pushing both men with her, and let Jamie slip out of her. She wanted to watch them, wanted to watch John take Jamie, wanted to watch Jamie come undone with John inside him. She sat down on the arm of the couch and kissed Jamie deeply, then lowered her back and spread her legs for him. Both of her men groaned at the sight, and Jamie plowed into her mercilessly, causing her to cry out. Claire stretched her arms over her head, relishing in every thrust and every grunt from them.

As Jamie’s enthusiasm grew, his thrusts got faster and deeper. At just the right time, his fingers found that bud that was aching for his touch, and Claire moaned throatily, writhing in ecstasy.

“Yes, Jamie...oh, God…”

“Oh, Jamie...Jamie…” John panted, nibbling at his ear. “I love you...you’re exquisite...I love you…”

Jamie could not speak, just groaned louder and pistoned his hips like a madman, and then he was coming, fiercely and loudly, perhaps louder than he ever had.

“Oh, God, oh God...oh, John…”

The sight was enough to send Claire over the edge as well, and she came with a shriek that left her hoarse, squeezing a throw pillow over her head. John bit down on Jamie’s shoulder and let himself go, thrusting madly until he stuttered to a stop with an abrupt shout, squeezing Jamie around the torso.

“Oh, love...Jamie…”

The rest of his exclamations were filthy and unintelligible, and had Claire not already come until she saw stars, the sight and the sound would have sent her again. They all three heaved and panted until their bodies stopped twitching with aftershocks, and then Claire tugged on Jamie’s hands to bring her to him, and John followed. As the boys settled on the sofa, Claire peeled off her dress, sighing with relief when the garment was no longer plastered to her with sweat. She even rolled her stockings off, loving the feeling of being totally bare, and yet craving the warmth of her husbands’ bodies immediately. 

Jamie was lying fully stretched across the cushions, and John was curled into his side, legs hanging off the edge. Claire crawled up the length of Jamie’s body until her head was in John’s lap. She laced her hand with Jamie’s and watched Jamie’s other hand trace lines over John’s face.

“Thank ye,” Jamie whispered reverently.

“For what?” John said, as though there was nothing remarkable about what had just happened. But Claire knew that John had been longing for that experience for years.

“For yer love, John,” Jamie said, like it was painfully obvious. “Christ, I canna believe how much I love ye.”

Claire’s heart warmed, and she squeezed his hand.

“Is it worth it?” John said, his voice trembling. “The pain, the secrets, the lies, hiding…”

Jamie answered by kissing him, hard. Claire tightened her embrace around John’s waist, kissing his muscled stomach.

“It’s worth everything.” Jamie’s voice was tight. He brought Claire’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “You both are worth everything.”