“Still here. No shortcake,” she stammers out the four words with a small smile lifting the edges of her lips.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EBONY
Caleb rakes his fingers over the tattoo between my breasts, tracing the lines not covered by my bindings as though he’s memorising each inked curve. Batting him out of the way, Cooper hooks a finger under each of the intertwined ropes to check my reddened skin. Tugging on one of the knots, something loosens, and my body does a ninety-degree spin in mid-air. Jostling me as my eyeline settles and finds the ground, their booted feet creep in to the edges of my vision. The squeak of a scream doesn’t have long enough to form when I’m giggling like a crazy person.
Crouching down in front of me, Caleb fills my vision, brooding and intense, his cock for now tucked back away. I pout, and the breathy chuckle that leaves his lips makes my heart skip a beat. The moment is so brief—blink and I would have missed it—but for a second, all the anger he feels for me vanishes from his chiselled face, and the cute, troublesome teenager I fell in love with all those years agoreturns. He’s quick to compose himself, erasing the flicker of emotion that I’m desperate to see again.
Something in him snaps, and he pulls the red handkerchief they had worn as masks out of his back pocket. He secures it as a blindfold around my head. I wince at the pinch as he knots it roughly. The sensory deprivation adding a new layer to the sensations rippling across my skin.
I listen intently for their shuffling movements but the gritty stylings ofKaleo’s Way down we gofeels too loud coming from the overhead speakers now with one of my senses taken away. Someone removes a belt from their jeans, the clank of the buckle hitting the ground. I’d hazard to guess it’s Caleb as Cooper’s hands are still dancing up and down my thighs as he chases the shudder that rockets through them up to my throbbing centre.
The air is punched from my lungs when Coop chooses this moment to enter me to the hilt, each barbell pulling a sharp breathy exhale from my lips. I’m panting, and my chest feels tight. I lose track of his thrusts, and then he stills, seated inside me like a statue. I try to rock my hips, to take what I need from him, but his harsh grip is firm. There are no words exchanged, but I know these two, they can communicate with stares alone. I want to cry out, to demand Cooper finishes what he started, but I stay silent. The lid of a bottle being snapped open makes me jolt, but a light thwack to my arse cheek has me staying put. A cool gel is trailed down my backside as Cooper tightens his grip and holds me in place. I bite my lip as Caleb’s fingers inch down each rung of my spine teasingly, my back arching as though his touch burns my flesh.
“How many nights have you imagined us finding you, Dove?” His voice is strangled and gruff as though the question pains him to say.
“Too many…” My answer is vague, but now doesn’t seem the time to detail how lost I’ve been without them.
Cooper pulls out of me, and I whine at the loss. Feeling too fired up and, if I’m perfectly honest, so far past the point of horny, I’m almost ready to demand they untie me and let me finish myself off—almost. My safe word is tucked in the back of my throat under strict instructions to stay there.
I’m pulled back sharply against Cooper’s chest, the ropes taking most of my weight as he holds me steady with a large palm splayed under each thigh, baring all of me for Caleb’s viewing pleasure. I feel the heat of his harsh breaths as they hit my cheek, his scent mixed with his natural heady musk filling my nose. A beat after another squirt of the gel is squeezed from the bottle and two fingers are massaging down my centre to my backside, Caleb rubs the pads of two fingers around the tight entrance as Cooper holds me steady.
“Fucking hell, Caleb, I’m dying here.” Cooper groans.
“Patience, brother,” he utters sternly, his voice dripping sin as his lips hover inches from mine.
Working his fingers inside me, I moan, heaving against Cooper’s bare chest as he moves them in and out at a torturously slow pace. When he can feel my body open up to him, he adds a third finger, and I yelp at the stretch. Cooper drops a hand and more of what I’m now realising is strawberry-scented lube is pushed out into his palm, as I feel him pump his fist up and down his jacob ladderedlength beneath me. The metal of his rings clinking against them. The memory of those steel bars on my tongue making me whimper.
“Now you’re going to behave and take everything we give you, right, Dove?” Cooper lulls into my ear.
I nod with vigour, desperation tingling in my taut muscles.
The transition from Caleb’s fingers to Cooper’s pierced cock feels seamless as he enters me, the pinch subsiding as the tight ring of muscle welcomes him, my moan morphing into a guttural groan as he notches himself inside me. I cry out as the final two inches fill me. Chewing on my lip, Caleb must sense my panic.
“Ohhh, sweetheart. I know. But you can take it.” He chuckles darkly as he lays the lightest kiss on my neck below my ear. My eyes roll back in my head as I squirm and rock my hips, trying to encourage Coop to move the way I need him to, the panic melting away as he begins to thrust forward with purpose. “Fuck, Ebs, you take me so well.” Cooper’s words skate past my cheek as my head falls back to rest on his shoulder. Each move he makes pushes me further into the depths of bliss. The delicious fullness overriding any pain I thought I might feel.
I’ve watched enough porn to know where this is headed, and I can’t lie—it feels like afinally-my-fucking-turn-moment. I have spent too many nights imagining what it would feel like to be owned and used without abandon by these men, and now I finally get my wish. An overwhelming fear grips me suddenly as I consider maybe Caleb won’t join us. My body stiffens, and Cooper stops his movements.
“What’s the matter, beautiful?” I don’t answer Cooper, but instead, I choose to hit my issue head-on.
“Please, Caleb,” I whisper.
“Please what?” he taunts, running his finger up my cheek, pushing a curl of hair behind my ear, his touch, although barely connecting, is enough to have my pussy aching for him to fill it.
“Please touch me,” I beg, almost crying out with the plea as I sense him so close.
He shifts into place, and I feel as the wet tip of his cock presses against my entrance, pushing inside achingly slow until I’m full of them both. He’s thicker than I thought, they both are. My fingernails bite into my palm as an overwhelming fullness aches where were joined. The pad of his thumb working circles into my clit.
“We’ll make it hurt real good, Dove.” I don’t know who says it, but I’m lost to how good that promise feels. I bite my lip to silence the cry, my shoulders aching as the ropes feel as though they are tightening around me.
They Eiffel Tower me, and it feels like the stretch of them working in tandem inside me, each thrust punctuated with a roll of their hips, that I’m about to rip in two right down my centre. Too much, but not enough at the same time, as my body clenches around them to keep them close.
I hiss through gritted teeth, the shudder of confused pleasure rocketing through every limb as my spine arches, chasing the fullness.
“I don’t think… Too full.” My words drip with a panicked lust, my head fuzzy with the onslaught of mental images of what we must look like.
I want to see them. I need to see them.
