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It’s bizarrely quiet as Lark let himself into the house, none of the usual ruckus of Sparrow and Rebecca carrying on in the kitchen. It sets Lark on high alert, creeping through their living room on light feet. It isn’t until he gets almost to the archway that he can hear anything in the kitchen at all.
Breathy giggles and muffled groans give him a moment's pause but he has to keep going. To make sure they are safe. The sight he’s met with has his mouth going dry in a second.
Rebecca is perched up on the counter, legs spread to let Sparrow press between them, head tipped back as he mouths at her neck. She’s giggling and gasping, but every groan is Sparrow's and settles like liquid metal in Lark’s stomach. There’s a persistent grind of Sparrow's hips, but with Rebecca’s thigh blocking his view, Lark can’t be sure if he was actually fucking her or not.
“Come on, he's- ah! - he's going to be here any minute,” Rebecca urges, arching harder into Sparrow and moaning at the change. Lark should leave. He should leave and come back in 10 minutes and pretend this never happened. But he can't tear his eyes off the grip Sparrow has on Rebecca thigh, thumb hooked over the hem of her skirt to shove it up her hips. Or how he pulls up from mouthing at her neck and shakes his hair out of his face before leaning in to kiss her. Hard and sloppy enough that Lark can catch flashes of oh so pink tongue between them.
He should leave, but he could stay there forever. Watching them, slack jawed, feeling his dick twitch to life. He doesn't get a chance to force himself out the door though, not before Rebecca's eyes flutter open and focus in on him. She says something too low for him to actually hear, but it has Sparrow stuttering to a stop and flushing up to his hairline. He draws back from Rebecca, pulling her skirt down as he goes. He's still in his pants, but they are tented and the light fabrics visibly damp. Lark fights hard to tear his eyes off it.
“Brother! You're uh- early!” Sparrow says, voice rough in a way that's unfamiliar. It's…Lark wants to hear it more, until it's just as familiar as all Sparrow’s other tones. It doesn't sit well, knowing his brother has a voice he hasn't heard.
Rebecca giggles again, leaning back on her palms against the counter, flushed but not the least bit ashamed. “Yeah, sorry Lark,” she says, though she doesn't sound it, “I thought we had a little more time.” She pokes at Sparrow’s upper thigh with her foot, and he all but squeaks, swatting her foot away “He’s just irresistible,”
This woman is going to be the death of him, Lark decides. “Well. Sorry to show up on time for once.”
Sparrow continues to look embarrassed, tugging his cardigan closed in what looks like an attempt to hide his bulging erection. It doesn't really work. But he beams at Lark anyway, “It’s alright, I'm happy to see you actually leaving work at a reasonable hour. I'm just going to…I’ll be right back.”
He hardly rounds the corner before Rebecca curls a finger at Lark to fill Sparrow’s spot between her legs. He goes easily, sliding her skirt up until his hands rest right where his brother's just were. When she arches into him he can feel her heat even through his jeans. “Come on,” She whispers, “He won't be long.”
Lark doesn't think of his brother, upstairs, maybe jerking off, as he slips a hand into Rebecca’s underwear, pressing two fingers into her and rubbing his thumb on her clit. She gasps at the sudden stimulation and he takes the chance to lick into her mouth, not chasing the taste of his brother.
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They are in Rebecca and Sparrow’s bedroom. Something about the spare room being painted, Lark wasn’t really listening as Rebecca dragged him up the stairs by the shirt collar nearly as soon as he stepped foot in the door. He didn’t care then, and he certainly doesn’t care now that he’s got her pressed against the door to their closet.
She’s wearing one of his favorite shirts of hers, a cut up old thing she stole from Sparrow with a neck so wide he can get her tits out without even taking it off. He pulls back from kissing her breathless just to admire it, shifting it off one shoulder and admiring as one of the thin lacy cups of her bralette come into view. Leaning down, he licks at her nipple through the lace, insistent and firm until it starts to harden enough for him to suck it. She whines at the deadened sensation through the fabric and he slides a hand up the bottom hem of her shirt to pinch at the other to try and make it up to her.
From the way she yanks on his hair, it doesn’t seem to do the trick. “Lark, lark, I want your mouth on me for real, come on,” She says impatiently. Lark teases longer, sucking at the lace and scraping his teeth over it until she gives his hair another yank by the roots. He can’t quite keep his moan to himself. “Come on!” She insists again, and this time he gives her what she wants, pulling down the top of her bralette until it rests under the curve of her breast. Probably stretching it out. But that’s not his problem.
He sucks and bites at her nipple until he’s sure she’s going to be sore tomorrow, and then a little bit more. When he’s finally had his fill he licks his way back up her neck to suck at the edge of her jaw, and then returns to kissing her deeply. He presses a thigh between hers and immediately she starts grinding on it, desperate for friction after the teasing of her chest without a touch below the belt. She squirms in his hold, shifting just enough to get her own thigh between his. The friction is fantastic, and Lark lets himself get lost in the rhythm of grinding against each other and swallowing down each other’s moans.
“Rebecca, baby, they canceled my apoint- Oh.” Sparrow’s voice is the next thing that breaks through the fog. Lark jumps away from Rebecca and faces his brother. Sparrow’s standing a few steps into the bedroom, and whatever his initial reaction was he’s leveled out into an expression bordering on thoughtful instead. “Brother, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Rebecca answers before Lark can, “I thought you were going to be gone for a few more hours. What happened to your appointment?” Like they are sitting around the dinner table, like her half naked chest isn’t heaving and bitten red from Larks mouth.
“They canceled it.” Sparrow shrugs, and Lark doesn’t miss the way his eyes trail heavily over both of them. Then he says something Lark didn’t let himself expect. “Don’t let me ruin your fun.”
Rebecca beams, grabbing out for the front of Larks shirt to pull him flush against her again. Lark cranes his neck, watching as Sparrow leans against the opposite wall. Not leaving. His cock jolts in his jeans, and there’s a million follow up questions he should be asking but Rebecca’s got a hand on his jaw, pulling him back into another kiss. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the weight of Sparrow’s gaze on him, to get back to the rhythm he was in with Rebecca.
It’s hard not to feel frantic. Even the brush of her hand on his fly as she reaches down to undo his zipper and let some pressure off his cock has him moaning filthy in her mouth. Maybe taking it as encouragement, she shoves his pants the rest of the way down before moving to work on her own, kicking them off as he takes half a step back to do the same with his own. Their tops join the pile in quick succession, and suddenly Lark is hard and naked with his brother’s wife. Right in front of his brother.
Rebecca pulls him down by the shoulders, nibbling at the shell of his ear and drawing out a few groans. He can feel her smiling as she pulls him even closer to whisper, “Let’s give him a show, pick me up and fuck me against this door.” Lark’s hips jerk, rutting is cock along her hip at the idea. He’s pretty sure he’s dripping already, leaving a slick trail along her hip. She’s fucking soaked against his thigh. He nods slightly, shifting his hold on her and letting her get a better grip on his shoulders before lifting her up with a grip on her right where her thighs meet her ass.
He lifts her high, getting her chest face height, letting her lean her shoulders against the door to provide another point of stability. She’s so hot against his stomach. Sparrow’s eyes are so heavy on his back. Lark takes a moment trying to find his composure, trying not to come the second he gets his cock in her. Instead it aches, throbbing and untouched in the open air as he goes back to attacking her chest. Alternating between laying attention on the nipple he neglected earlier and teasing the already tender one until her hips hitch against his stomach and she whines.
He has her begging by the time it feels like he’s got any kind of a grip on himself, tits bright red from his torment. “Lark, please, please, fuck me, fill me up, finger me, anything please.” It’s in her strings of filth and the process of adjusting in his grip that Lark misses the sound of socked footsteps drawing closer.
He’s caught up in the idea Rebecca put in his head. Putting on a show. Fuck. He hopes Sparrow is still watching. But things aren’t working quite as perfectly as he wants. His arms are getting tired, holding her up as long as he has. And with no hands free and as wet as they both are, he’s struggling with getting the angle right to slide into her. Instead, he’s humping against her in a way that feels so fucking good and so fucking frustrating at the same time.
It’s aggravating enough that he’s about to give up and throw her on the bed when there’s heat against his back. Sparrow. Leaning in and hooking his chin over Lark’s shoulder, so their cheeks are practically rubbing against each other. Lark shivers intensely at the long line of Sparrow’s clothed body coming up against his naked back. His voice is getting close to that rougher rumble Lark heard in the kitchen the other week when he says, “Bec, baby, you look so pretty for him, you beg so pretty for him.”
One of Sparrow’s arms comes up to join in supporting Rebecca’s weight. The other wraps around Lark's middle, faintly scratching at the trail of hair down Lark’s stomach and driving him insane. His hips hitch forward faster, still trying to find the angle to side home. Only growing more desperate as he realizes every pull back has him pressing against a bulge forming in Sparrow’s jeans. He whines like the desperate animal he feels like in the moment, and Sparrow coos in his ear. “Brother, you always take such good care of our Bec, let me help you.”
The sound Lark makes as Sparrow’s hand slides down his stomach and wraps around his cock is inhuman. He can’t fucking breath as Sparrow gives it two firm strokes and then lines it up for him so the next jolt of his hips has him sliding deep into Rebecca. He can’t fucking think as he drives into her like an animal, deep grinding thrusts because Sparrow pressed right to his back leaves him no other choice.
He can’t last. Sparrow’s hand resting right at the top of his pelvis feels like a brand. So does the heat of his cock through his pants against Lark. Rebecca is clenching around him like she's almost as close as he is. It’s the first hitch of Sparrow’s hips, a short grind against him, the cascade of thoughts that brings on, that sends Lark over the edge. The only thing he hears clearly over the ringing in his ears is Sparrow’s rumbley, arousal colored voice saying “Good boy.”