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Pomni should have known something was up when Caine asked her to meet him in his office “for a very important research discussion.”
She’s learned to be wary of that phrase.
She finds him at his desk, clipboard in hand, looking even more manic than usual.
“Pomni! Excellent! Please, sit!” He motions to the chair across from him, and she sits, eyeing him suspiciously.
“What’s this about?”
“Research, of course!” He flips through his clipboard with barely contained excitement. “I’ve been analyzing our data from the past few months, and I’ve identified a significant gap in our studies!”
“A gap,” she repeats slowly.
“Yes! You see, we’ve explored numerous aspects of human intimacy—physical pleasure, emotional bonding, roleplay scenarios—but we’ve completely neglected one of the most psychologically complex elements of human relationships!”
“Which is?”
“Infidelity!”
Pomni stares at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Cheating! Extramarital affairs! The emotional impact, the jealousy response, the violation of trust followed by potential reconciliation—it’s fascinating from a research perspective! Yet we haven’t studied it at all!”
“Caine,” she says carefully, “are you asking me to cheat on you?”
“A controlled simulation!” He leans forward, eyes bright. “I want to observe how infidelity affects bonded pair dynamics—the jealousy, the possessive behaviors, the psychological complexity of betrayal and forgiveness! I’ve been considering potential participants, and given the success of our previous three-person research session, I believe Jax would be optimal! His antagonistic dynamic with you provides the perfect framework for simulated affair tension!”
“So you want me to fake-cheat on you with Jax while you watch.”
“While I observe from behind a specialized screen! There’s a difference!” He’s already sketching something on his clipboard. “I’ll be able to see and hear everything without being directly in the room, which should allow for more authentic behavior!”
“Have you asked Jax yet?”
“Not yet! I wanted your consent first! Proper ethical research protocols!” He beams at her like he deserves a gold star. “If you agree, I’ll extend the invitation to him. I’m quite certain he’ll be amenable—he seemed to enjoy our last collaborative session!”
That’s one way to put it.
She should say no. This is unhinged even by their standards.
But there’s a part of her—a part she’s not entirely proud of—that wants to know what Caine looks like jealous. That wants to see him possessive and demanding and claiming her like he owns her.
(Which he kind of does already at this point.)
“Okay,” she hears herself say. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
“Wonderful!” He’s already making notes. “I’ll contact Jax immediately! Oh, I should probably mention the wedding night scenario we conducted—context is important for understanding the relationship dynamics!”
Pomni’s brain screeches to a halt. “You’re going to tell him about that?”
“Of course! He needs to understand that you’re my wife now—well, in a roleplay sense—so the infidelity simulation has proper emotional weight! It’ll make the jealousy response more authentic!”
“Caine, he’s going to be insufferable about this.”
“Nonsense! Jax has been very professional in all our research sessions!” He pauses. “Well. His version of professional, which involves a significant amount of teasing and innuendo—but he gets results!”
She can already picture it. Jax with that smug grin, making comments about “stealing” her, pushing every button Caine has until he snaps—
“Let me get this straight,” she says. “You want me to have sex with Jax while you watch from behind a screen. And then what? You just… take notes?”
“Oh no! I’m going to interrupt, of course!” He sounds delighted by the prospect. “Once sufficient jealousy has been triggered, I’ll intervene! And then we can explore the reconciliation phase—the reclaiming behaviors, the reassertion of pair bonds, the—”
“The punishment,” she finishes, and his grin goes sharp.
“If you’d like to frame it that way, yes! Though I prefer to think of it as ‘intensive pair bond reinforcement.’”
The worst part is how excited she is about it.
His entire demeanor lights up. “Truly? Oh, wonderful! This is going to generate such excellent data! I’ll set everything up for tomorrow evening! I’ve already designed the optimal space—soft lighting, comfortable surfaces, the observation screen positioned for maximum visual clarity—”
Tomorrow evening.
She’s really doing this.
The next evening, Pomni finds herself in a room she’s never seen before.
It’s… actually kind of nice: soft lighting, plush carpet, a large bed against one wall, and across from the bed, a sheer curtain stretches from floor to ceiling, dividing the room. Through it, she can just barely make out a chair and the shadow of a figure sitting in it.
“This is so fucked up,” she mutters to herself.
“That’s what makes it fun!” Jax’s voice comes from behind her, and she turns to find him leaning against the doorframe with that familiar shit-eating grin. “So, your husband—” he emphasizes the word with obvious glee, “—wants me to fuck his wife while he watches from behind a curtain. Gotta say, Pom, your relationship keeps getting weirder.”
“He told you about the wedding thing,” she says flatly.
“Oh yeah. Got a full briefing. Wedding dress, lingerie, the works.” His grin widens. “He was very thorough. Even showed me his data charts.”
She’s going to kill Caine, then herself, in that order.
“I hate both of you.”
“No you don’t.” Jax pushes off the doorframe, prowling closer. “You love that he’s so obsessed with you he fucked you on your fake honeymoon night and now wants to watch you cheat on him so he can get jealous.” He stops right in front of her. “And you love that I’m enough of an asshole to go along with it.”
Damn it, he’s not wrong.
“Either way,” Jax continues, “I’m not complaining. Been wanting to get my hands on you properly since last time.” His grin widens. “So… how do you want to do this? Should I seduce you? Make it seem real?”
“I—” She swallows. “I don’t know. He didn’t exactly give me instructions.”
“No script?” Jax looks delighted. “Even better.”
He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and the gesture is surprisingly gentle. “You good with this, Pom? For real?”
She nods. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Cool.” His hand slides down to cup her jaw. “Then let me kiss you properly this time.”
The kiss is different from last time. He takes his time, coaxing her mouth open, tasting her thoroughly. His other hand settles on her waist, pulling her closer, and she can’t help but melt into it.
When he pulls back, they’re both breathing harder.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Yeah, okay. This is gonna be good.”
From behind the curtain, she hears the faintest sound. A sharp inhale, maybe.
Caine is watching.
The knowledge sends a thrill through her.
Jax’s hands find the hem of her shirt, and he raises an eyebrow in question. She nods, and he pulls it off smoothly. Her shorts follow, leaving her in just her underwear.
“Make yourself useful,” she says, tugging at his overalls.
He grins. “Bossy. I like it.” He strips them off quickly, and she tries not to stare at how ready he already is.
“Damn,” he says appreciatively, his hands skimming over her sides. “No wonder Caine’s obsessed.”
She wants to deflect, make a joke, but then he’s kissing her again and all thoughts scatter. His hands map her body with clear intent—over her ribs, her stomach, up to cup her breasts through her bra.
“May I?” he asks against her mouth, fingers toying with the clasp.
“Yes,” she breathes.
The bra comes off, and then his mouth is on her breast, sucking and biting gently while his hand works the other. She gasps, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders, and she hears it again from behind the curtain.
A quiet, choked sound, like someone trying very hard to stay silent and failing.
“He’s watching,” Jax murmurs against her skin. “Can you hear him? Can you hear how much this is killing him?”
“Jax—”
“What? It’s true.” He switches to her other breast, giving it the same attention. “Your husband is sitting behind that curtain watching another guy touch his wife.”
It’s driving her crazy. The knowledge that Caine is right there, watching her with Jax, getting progressively more possessive and jealous—
She moans, and Jax grins against her skin.
“That’s it. Let him hear you.” He guides her backward toward the bed. “Let him hear exactly what I’m doing to you.”
She sits on the edge, and he kneels between her legs, hooking his fingers in her underwear. “These need to go.”
She lifts her hips, and he slides them off, leaving her completely bare. He stays kneeling there for a moment, just looking, and the intensity in his gaze makes her squirm.
“Spread your legs,” he says, and she does.
His hands slide up her inner thighs, thumbs brushing teasingly close to where she’s already getting wet. “Look at you. Already so ready for me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Mouthy.” His teeth graze her inner thigh, making her jolt. “Guess I’ll have to keep you distracted.”
He works his way up with kisses and gentle bites, getting closer and closer to where she wants him. Behind the curtain, she hears another sound, something that might be a suppressed groan.
Jax doesn’t go where she expects. Instead, he shifts, rising up until he’s kneeling properly between her legs, and she feels his cock press against her inner thigh.
“Thought we’d try something different first,” he says, his voice rough. “Lift your other leg up. Press your thighs together.”
She does, confused, and then she feels him shifting, positioning himself so his cock is trapped between her thighs, sliding against her without actually entering her.
“Oh,” she breathes.
“Yeah.” He rocks forward experimentally, and they both groan. “Fuck, that’s good.”
He starts moving in earnest, each slide rubbing against her but not giving her what she actually wants.
“Jax,” she whimpers.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is teasing. “Not enough? Want me to actually fuck you properly?”
“Yes—”
“Ask your husband,” he says, and she freezes.
“What?”
“Ask him.” Jax nods toward the curtain. “Ask Caine if I can fuck you. See what he says.”
Oh. Oh, that’s cruel.
“Caine,” she calls out, her voice embarrassingly breathy. “Can—can Jax—”
“No,” comes the immediate response from behind the curtain.
Jax laughs. “Hear that? Your husband says no. Guess you’ll have to settle for this.”
He picks up the pace, and she can feel him getting harder, the head of his cock occasionally brushing against her clit and making her gasp.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “Bet you wish this was my cock inside you instead, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she admits helplessly.
“Can’t have that, though. Husband’s orders.” He leans down, capturing her mouth in a messy, desperate kiss while his hips keep moving. “But we can do other things.”
He pulls back, sitting on his heels, and guides her to lie back on the bed. Then he’s climbing up over her, straddling her chest, and she realizes what he’s about to do.
“Push your tits together,” he instructs, and she does, watching as he positions himself in the valley between them. “Fuck, look at you.”
He starts moving again, and the visual alone is obscene. She can see the head of his cock appearing and disappearing between her breasts with each thrust, can see the way his face is flushed.
“You like this?” he asks, breathless. “Like watching me use your tits?”
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Good.” He reaches down, thumbs brushing over her nipples, making her arch. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
Behind the curtain, she hears it clearly this time—a low, frustrated groan. Caine is suffering, and some terrible part of her is thrilled by it.
Jax seems to hear it too, because his grin goes wicked. “Your husband sounds frustrated. Think he wants to interrupt yet?”
“I don’t—ah—I don’t know—”
“Let’s find out.” He pulls back, moving off her chest, and she whimpers at the loss. But then he’s positioning himself differently, kneeling beside her upper body. “Give me your arm. The right one.”
She does, confused, and he guides it up, holding her arm above her head. Then he’s positioning himself against her armpit, and—
“Is this weird?” he asks, but he’s already moving. “Fuck, it’s weird, isn’t it? But it feels—it feels really fucking good—”
“Not weird,” she manages. “Just—different—”
“Different good?” He’s panting now, close to the edge.
“Yeah. Different good.”
His free hand cups her face, thumb brushing over her lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Then he pulls away, sitting back on his heels and looking genuinely frustrated. “Fuck. I want to fuck you properly. Want to feel you. But—”
“But that’s not part of the research,” she finishes.
“Yeah. Your husband is a sadistic bastard, you know that?”
From behind the curtain: “I like to call it ‘extreme curiosity!’”
They both freeze.
Jax and Pomni look at each other, and she sees her own realization reflected in his face.
Caine is about to snap.
“How much longer do you think he’ll last?” Jax murmurs, trailing his fingers down her stomach.
“I don’t—”
The curtain tears.
Caine has ripped through it, stepping into the room with an energy that makes Pomni’s breath catch.
He looks feral.
His eyes are wild, pupils blown so wide they’re almost entirely black. His usual manic grin has gone sharp and dangerous. His hands are flexing at his sides like he’s physically restraining himself.
“I believe,” he says, his voice remarkably controlled given his appearance, “that I’ve collected sufficient data on the jealousy response.”
Jax, still kneeling beside Pomni on the bed, grins. “Yeah? How’s that going for you?”
“Terribly.” The word comes out almost as a growl. “Watching another person touch my wife, hearing her make those sounds for someone else—” His gaze snaps to Pomni, and the intensity of it makes her shiver. “It’s been absolutely torturous.”
“Mission accomplished, then,” Jax says cheerfully. He’s still touching her—one hand resting on her hip—and Pomni realizes he’s pushing Caine’s buttons on purpose.
“Remove your hand,” Caine says quietly.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll remove it for you.”
The threat hangs in the air for a long moment. Then Jax laughs and pulls his hand away, holding both up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. She’s all yours. Well—” His grin turns wicked. “Unless you want to share again?”
Caine’s eyes narrow. “That depends entirely on whether you can follow instructions.”
“Oh, I’m excellent at following instructions.” Jax looks at Pomni, then back at Caine. “When the instructions are fun.”
“Then here’s your instruction.” Caine stalks closer to the bed, his attention never leaving Pomni. “You are not to touch her unless I explicitly permit it. You are not to make her come unless I allow it. And you are certainly not to fuck her. Is that understood?”
“Crystal clear,” Jax says, but he’s still grinning.
Caine finally reaches the bed, and his hand comes up to cup Pomni’s face. The touch is gentle, but there’s something desperate underneath it.
“My dear,” he says softly, “you’ve been very bad.”
Her breath catches. “Have I?”
“Letting another man touch you. Kiss you. Use your body for his pleasure.” His thumb brushes over her bottom lip. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
She should probably play along properly, but there’s something in his gaze that makes her want to push.
“It felt good,” she says.
His grip tightens fractionally. “Did it.”
“Yeah. He was very thorough.”
“Not as thorough as I’m going to be.” He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. “I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to. I’m going to make you come so many times you forget your own name. And when I’m done, the only word you’ll remember is mine.”
She’s already wet from everything with Jax, but Caine’s words send a fresh wave of heat through her.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” she manages.
“Both.” He pulls back, and his grin has gone sharp. “On your back. Now.”
She lies back immediately, and he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. But he doesn’t touch her yet. Instead, he just looks—taking in every inch of her, noticing the marks Jax left.
“You’re so wet,” he observes. “From him, or from knowing what I’m about to do to you?”
“Both,” she admits.
“Honest. I appreciate that.” His fingers finally brush against her inner thigh. He snaps, and his clothes vanish, leaving him as bare as she is. “Since you’ve been so forthcoming, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to touch you. I’m going to make you desperate and needy and begging. And when you’re right on the edge, I’m going to stop.”
Her eyes widen. “Caine—”
“That’s your punishment,” he continues. “For every time you let Jax touch you, I’m going to edge you. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not fair at all,” she protests weakly.
“No?” His fingers slide higher, brushing feather-light over where she’s aching for him. “But you enjoyed it so much.”
His touch is never quite where she needs it. He traces patterns on her inner thighs, occasionally brushing against her folds but never staying long enough to satisfy.
“Caine, please—”
“Please what?” He sounds genuinely curious. “You’ll have to be more specific, dear.”
“Please,” she whimpers.
“Hmm. Not quite desperate enough yet.” He glances at Jax. “Jax, come here.”
Jax moves closer, eyebrows raised. “Giving me permission to touch her after all?”
“Limited permission.” Caine’s fingers are still working their teasing pattern. “I want you to kiss her. Keep her distracted while I work.”
“That I can do.” Jax leans down, capturing Pomni’s mouth in a deep kiss.
It’s overwhelming. Jax’s mouth on hers while Caine’s fingers tease her relentlessly. She tries to arch up into Caine’s touch, but he just moves his hand away.
When Jax pulls back, she’s panting.
“You’re evil,” she gasps at Caine.
“I’m thorough,” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”
When his fingers finally slide inside her, she nearly sobs with relief.
But he keeps them still.
“Caine, move—”
“Why should I?” He tilts his head. “You didn’t seem to mind taking your time with Jax.”
“That was different—”
“Was it?” His fingers curl slightly, hitting that spot inside her, and she cries out. “Or are you just impatient now that it’s me?”
“Both,” she admits desperately. “Both, please, I need—”
“What do you need?” His thumb brushes over her clit, so light it’s barely a touch.
“I need you to fuck me,” she says. “Please, Caine, I need—”
“Not yet.” He withdraws his fingers, and she actually whimpers at the loss. “You haven’t been punished enough.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. Then another, higher up. His mouth is getting closer and closer to where she’s aching for him.
Then he stops, pulling back. “Jax. Your turn.”
Jax blinks. “My turn for what?”
“Kiss her again. I want to see how desperate I can make her before she breaks.”
“You’re a sadist, you know that?” But Jax is already moving.
They work her like that—passing her between them, Jax’s mouth on hers while Caine teases her with fingers and tongue, bringing her right to the edge and then backing off. By the time Caine finally pulls away completely, she’s shaking and desperate enough to actually cry.
“Please,” she sobs. “Please, Caine, I can’t—I need—”
“I know.” His voice has gone soft, almost tender. “I know, my dear. You’ve been so good, so patient.” He positions himself between her legs properly now, and she can feel him hard and ready against her. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” she gasps immediately.
“Say it properly.”
“I belong to you. I’m yours. Only yours.”
“That’s right.” He slides into her in one smooth thrust, and they both groan. “Mine. My wife. My Pomni.”
He doesn’t start slowly. After all that teasing, all that denial, he fucks her desperately, each thrust hitting deep and perfect. His hand finds her clit, and the stimulation is so sudden and so much that she nearly blacks out.
“Come for me,” he demands. “Right now.”
She comes with a scream, clenching around him so hard she sees stars. But he doesn’t stop—doesn’t even slow down.
“Again,” he says, his fingers still working her clit. “I want another one.”
“I can’t—”
“You can. You will.” His voice has gone rough with need. “You’re going to come for me as many times as I want.”
The overstimulation is almost painful, but it’s also building toward something else. She’s vaguely aware of Jax watching them, his hand working himself, but mostly she’s just focused on Caine.
“That’s it,” Caine gasps, his rhythm starting to falter. “That’s my girl. So perfect.”
She comes again, and this time he comes with her, spilling inside her with a broken moan. For a moment, they just stay like that—both trembling, gasping for breath.
Then Caine seems to remember Jax.
“Jax,” he says, remarkably steady given that he’s still inside her. “Would you like to finish?”
Jax, who’s been stroking himself while watching them, grins. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Her mouth,” Caine specifies. “Nothing else.”
“Works for me.” Jax moves to kneel beside Pomni’s head. “You good, Pom?”
She nods, too wrung out to form words.
“Excellent.” He guides himself to her lips, and she opens for him.
It’s almost overwhelming—Jax in her mouth, Caine still inside her, both of them using her. But it’s also perfect in a way she can’t quite articulate.
Jax doesn’t last long. He comes with a groan, and she swallows on instinct, which makes him swear.
“Fuck, Pomni. That’s—yeah. Fuck.”
When he pulls away, Caine finally withdraws from her as well.
He snaps his fingers, and suddenly they’re all clean. Then he’s pulling her against his chest, wrapping the blanket around both of them, his arms tight around her.
Jax stretches, looking deeply satisfied. “Well. That was fun.”
“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” Caine says, still holding Pomni. “The door is that way.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” Jax slides off the bed, heading toward the exit.
He makes it about three steps before he stops.
Pomni, half-dozing against Caine’s chest, hears him sigh. “Fuck it.”
“What—” Caine starts, but then Jax is climbing back onto the bed, flopping down on Pomni’s other side.
“What are you doing,” Caine says flatly.
“Getting comfortable.” Jax settles in, propping his head on one hand. “What’s it look like?”
“It looks like you’re not leaving.”
“Wow, you’re observant.” Jax grins at him over Pomni’s head. “Look, I just had the best sex of my life, I’m tired, and this bed is huge. I’m staying.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Too late. Already here.”
“I can teleport you out.”
“But you won’t.”
There’s a long pause. Pomni can feel Caine’s chest rising and falling with barely suppressed irritation, but he doesn’t actually make Jax leave.
“You’re insufferable,” Caine finally says.
“And you’re possessive. We all have our flaws.” Jax reaches over, patting Pomni’s shoulder. “You okay being the middle of this disaster sandwich?”
“I’m fine,” she mumbles.
“See? She’s fine with it.” Jax settles in properly. “Face it, ringmaster. We’re a set now.”
“We are not a set.”
“Sure we’re not.” But Jax doesn’t move. “Hey, Pomni?”
“Mm?”
“Thanks for letting me stick around. For the research and… this.” His voice has gone quieter, less mocking. “It’s been a while since I felt like part of something.”
Her chest tightens. She reaches back blindly, finding his hand and squeezing. “Yeah. Me too.”
From her other side, Caine makes a sound that might be resignation. “Fine, you can stay, but only because moving would disturb Pomni.”
“Sure. That’s why.”
They settle into silence, and Pomni is just starting to drift off when she feels both of them shift.
“What—” she starts, but then they’re both leaning in.
Caine’s hand curls around her waist from one side. Jax’s hand mirrors it from the other. They pull her in simultaneously, and then they’re both kissing her—Caine claiming her mouth while Jax presses kisses to her jaw, her neck, the sensitive spot behind her ear.
It’s overwhelming and possessive and tender all at once.
“Ours,” Caine says softly.
“Yeah,” Jax agrees, equally quiet. “Ours.”
She should probably establish that this is just for tonight, but she’s too tired and too content, and the lie would be too obvious anyway.
“Yours,” she agrees instead, and lets herself relax between them.
“No more infidelity research,” Caine says after a moment, his hand stroking her hair.
“Agreed,” she mumbles.
“But perhaps we could explore other relationship dynamics?” His voice takes on that manic edge again. “Celebrating anniversaries, for instance? Or perhaps—”
Jax reaches over and flicks him on the forehead. “Dude. Read the room. She’s exhausted.”
“I was simply suggesting—”
“Suggest tomorrow. Right now, shut up and let her sleep.”
Pomni expects Caine to protest. Instead, he just settles back down, arms tightening around her.
“Fine,” he says. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she agrees.
“Though I should note,” Caine can’t help adding, “the data from today’s session will require extensive analysis. The comparative responses, the jealousy metrics, the reclaiming behaviors—”
“Caine,” both Pomni and Jax say in unison.
He falls silent, but she can feel him practically vibrating.
“I love you,” he says quietly instead. “You know that, right?”
She freezes. They’ve never said that before—not directly, at least.
“I know it’s not proper research terminology,” he continues, almost nervous. “And I know we started this as an intellectual exercise, but somewhere along the way—”
“I love you too,” she interrupts softly.
His arms tighten around her. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Jax clears his throat. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not saying the L-word. That’s too fucking sappy even for this situation.”
“Nobody asked you to,” Caine says primly.
“Good. Because I wasn’t going to.” But his arm tightens around Pomni’s waist, and she can feel him press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “But… this is good. This whole ridiculous thing. I’m glad I’m part of it.”
“Me too,” Pomni says.
They lie there in silence, Pomni sandwiched between them both.
“Tomorrow,” Caine murmurs against her hair, “we should discuss the parameters for our next research project—”
“Caine.”
“Yes?”
“Sleep. Now. Research later.”
“Ah. Yes. Of course.” But she can already hear him mentally composing notes.
Jax snorts softly. “Your husband’s hopeless, you know that?”
“I know,” she says fondly.
“And you’re still into it.”
“Yeah. I am.”