Surrender at the Threshold

Kathryn’s POV

I still don’t know what kept pushing me toward her room that late at night.

It was stupid. I knew it was late. I told myself I could give Iris Joe and Emily’s engagement gift tomorrow; that it would be more appropriate, more normal. A reasonable excuse. But my body didn’t listen. My feet kept moving, guided by something quiet and insistent I didn’t have a name for.

I mean… Jesus Christ; I was barely dressed. The silk slip clung to my skin like a confession, sheer enough that it left nothing to the imagination. Anyone could’ve snapped a photo, my tits broadcast to the internet for strangers to dissect and drool over.

And still… I didn’t stop.

When I reached her door, I almost knocked.

Almost.

Then I noticed it was cracked open.

The sound came next.

Not a sound. Sounds.

Moaning; no, moans; layered, overlapping, different rhythms colliding in a way that made my stomach drop. My first instinct screamed at me to turn around.

This isn’t for you, Kathryn.

Go back.

But another voice; lower, quieter, one I barely recognized as my own; moved my hand forward. Before I could argue, my fingers were already on the cool panel, easing the door open as silently as I could.

I slipped inside and shut it silently behind me.

The room was minimal, like mine. Bathroom to one side. A short hallway leading toward the bedroom. I moved carefully, barefoot, breath held, every nerve alive.

And then I turned the corner.

I saw his back first.

Broad. Muscular. Naked. Powerful in motion. One leg was hooked up over his shoulder, the other pressed hard into the mattress, his hand firm on her thigh as he drove forward with relentless ****.

For a split second, my mind tried to lie to me; tried to pretend I’d walked in on strangers.

Then I saw her.

The woman beneath him was arching, moans muffled because her mouth was busy; buried between the sex of another woman who writhed above her. That woman’s eyes were closed, her hands gripping the man’s shoulders as she rocked her hips, using his body for balance while she was being pleasured.

I knew those sounds.

I knew him.

That was Emily; holding onto her fiancé, my colleague, Joe; while he fucked Iris into the mattress as she ate Emily’s cunt with **** devotion.

I should’ve left.

I told myself I should leave. Let them have their moment. Who was I to judge? God knows I’d almost invited Joe back to my room after the shoot; before I’d known he was taken.

But my body betrayed me.

My hand slid up, gripping my breast through the silk, breath breaking into shallow waves as heat pooled low and heavy between my legs. I stood there, frozen, watching them; watching him; as something inside me gave way.

Emily opened her eyes.

She saw me.

She didn’t stop him. Didn’t stop anything. She just smiled; slow, knowing; and cradled Joe’s neck with one hand. With the other, she curled a finger toward me.

Come here.

The gesture was unmistakable.

As I stepped forward, setting the box down without even remembering what was inside it, Emily leaned in close to Joe’s ear and murmured,

“We’ve got a visitor.”

He barely slowed.

Emily leaned back, rolling her hips over Iris’s mouth, tongue curling through her sex, and Joe finally looked over his shoulder at me.

The look he gave me…

I hadn’t seen it before. But if I was honest with myself, it was the look I’d wanted since the moment he’d walked into his office where I waited.

He smiled.

That was all it took.

My fingers hooked under the straps of my slip. I let them slide down my shoulders, the silk pooling at my feet as I stepped out of it and surrendered; completely; to whatever **** had pulled me to that door.

And for the first time that night, I stopped questioning it.

I was exactly where I was meant to be.