Shayla Black - Theirs to Cherish

After a slam of the drawer, Sean turned back. His stare fell on them, his blue eyes turning dark with arousal. “She looks beautiful.”

“She feels like the most exquisite hell,” Thorpe groaned.

“Callie always does.” With a little smile, Sean held up the clothes pins. “Where do you want these?”

“ON her nipples,” Thorpe instructed Sean. “Suck the buds first. Get them good and hard. Make her feel every pull of your mouth all the way down to her clit.”

Callie thought she might explode. Thorpe was doing everything in his power to drive her beyond her ability to endure his sensual torture, and now Sean was pitching in to help out. Having both of their hands on her, their bodies crushed to hers, had been a fantasy nearly beyond her wildest imagining for weeks.

A big smile stretched across Sean’s face. “I like the way you think . . .”

“I’ve got a ton more ideas,” Thorpe assured.

She’d just bet.

Callie panted now, every breath a labored cry as he worked her pussy, fondled her clit, and breathed across her neck. He made her suffer, ache. She wanted to cry out, but held in the need. In every way possible, Thorpe was reminding her that he was not only a Dominant, but a Master—the sort of man who would crawl into her head, read her every need, dangle it in front of her until she knelt and pleaded and submitted, then he’d turn her inside out as he fulfilled every dark fantasy.

Drawing up the other kitchen chair and dropping into it, Sean looked completely on board with that plan.

“Excellent,” he murmured as he leaned forward, closer. “Give me your breasts, lovely. Arch to me.”

With a whimper, she did. She couldn’t help it. Sean grabbed her sides, pulling her closer. He didn’t pounce on her aching nipples right away, though she wished he had. Instead, he hovered over her, palmed back the damp hair that had worked onto her face and plastered to her breasts, then fastened his hand around her nape. He plowed his way past her lips, seizing, taking, wildly devouring her mouth. She melted, gasping into his kiss as Thorpe’s fingers plied her clit with ruthless efficiency. He backed off again when she held her breath. Perspiration sheened her skin, and she keened out with unfulfilled need.

Sean lifted his head, and he gave her a lopsided smile of triumph. For good measure, he fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples. “Not so eager to run now, are you, lovely?”

Wasn’t it obvious? She couldn’t move now if she wanted to, not when satisfaction was so close and they held the key to her pleasure. To her heart.

“Answer him,” Thorpe barked in her ear, then grazed his teeth over her sensitive shoulder.

Callie shuddered. She thought she’d experienced pleasure before, but this . . . Poems and songs were written about the sort of ecstasy they suspended just out of her grasp. Wars were fought. Kingdoms fell. She had no idea how to do anything but plead and beg for them to put her out of her misery.

“No, Sir. Please. Please . . .”

Sean chuckled but didn’t answer her directly. Instead he bent to one of her breasts and took her nipple in his mouth. His suction pulled on the sensitive crest, then zipped a line of fire all the way down to her pussy. Oh, gawd. She only thought she’d been on the knife’s edge of need before. Now?

Unable to help herself, she filtered her hands through his hair and tugged him closer, wishing desperately that she could make him suck more. Or less. Or whatever would ease this relentless need driving her to madness.

Instead, Sean backed away and inspected his work. His smile tightened, and he lifted one of the clothes pins to her. Callie’s eyes widened, and a protest sat on the edge of her tongue. The little wooden implement would act like a nipple clamp. She had so little experience, despite living and working at Dominion. She’d never been clamped in any way. No doubt, it would sting at least a little or they wouldn’t bother.

“Please . . .” she begged.

Thorpe stiffened, his voice a dark growl in her ear. “Take your punishment, Callie. You’ve given us no choice for days. Now it’s your turn.”

“Exactly,” Sean agreed as he cupped her breast and applied the first clothes pin.

It pressed down on her nipple. Not pain exactly, but a constant, somehow tugging pressure that jolted straight to her clit. Callie gasped.

With rough fingers, Thorpe pinched her other nipple. The second he released it, Sean sucked it into the burning oven of his mouth and pulled. She dug her fingers into Thorpe’s thighs, trying to take in all the sensations at once. The arousal climbed yet again to something dizzying she’d never imagined possible. Callie groaned, mewled. Neither man heeded the sounds. They seemed intent and eager to keep pushing her. Thorpe set his greedy fingers back over her clit, his circles on her flesh even more torturously slow. Gawd, she couldn’t take much more.

“Sean . . . Thorpe,” she panted. “I—”

“Burn and ache?” Thorpe breathed into her ear. “Oh, I know. The way I’ve burned and ached for you for fucking years. I want you to know what it was like every hour of every day I had to be near you, trying to figure out how not to go insane because I couldn’t have more.”

Sean cut off any possibility of her reply by applying the second clothes pin to her other nipple.

The pressure times two did more than multiply the pleasure. Somehow, it turned exponential. Her blood flowed like lava. Her pussy throbbed with the pent-up need for release. Her already sensitive nipples ached even more as Sean toyed with the clothes pins, making them gently tug on the hard tips of her breasts, twist and tighten, before he rubbed his fingertip over the top of each.

Callie dug her nails even deeper into Thorpe’s thighs, writhing and arching.

“Breakfast time, pet. Sean is going to feed you. You’re going to eat every bite . . . no matter what we do to you. And no coming,” Thorpe said sternly. “Is that understood?”

Was he out of his mind? Her gaze bounced up to Sean, pleading for respite, mercy—anything. Gently, he shook his head.

“You’ll do as he says, lovely.” Sean picked up the plate of still steaming eggs. “Open wide.”

Automatically, Callie parted her lips. He slid in a strip of bacon. She bit, chewed, swallowed—but didn’t taste anything. Her body felt like a volcano. Her clit burned with the most towering, delicious ache, exacerbated by the pressure on her nipples and Thorpe’s unrelenting fingers driving her up into a sky with no ceiling. When she fell, the crash would be monumental, life altering. She felt on the verge of begging them to allow her to give them anything—or everything—just for ease. Instead, she wriggled on Thorpe’s lap as Sean followed the bacon with an intimate brush of his lips and a stare that made her shiver.

“You’re so beautiful, Callie. I like you all flushed and subdued. And I can’t say that I dislike you being helpless and at our mercy.” Sean chuckled, then fed her a bite of buttery toast.

She smelled more than tasted it and choked it down, only to encounter a bite of hot eggs on the fork he shoved past her lips moments later.

“Open wide,” Thorpe insisted.

Callie would have called him a bastard son of a bitch asshole if she could have found the words and wasn’t convinced that they’d only heap on more punishment. But Thorpe deserved that and more. Once they’d let her come, she would have to think of something really creatively suitable to repay him for this loathsome torture. If he didn’t stop soon . . . Callie really had no idea what she would do or how she would make it through the next five minutes with her body on fire and ready to explode.

“After she eats, do you want me to cook us something?” Sean asked Thorpe as if he didn’t have a care in the world, fondling her breasts while he spoke.

Thorpe shook his head. “I’ll find something quick.”

“Good thinking. I’m not convinced that we’ll have finished torturing Callie by the time she’s done eating. I think I’ve got just the thing.”

Barely missing a beat, he reached onto the counter and yanked a box into his lap. Seconds later, they were both munching on protein bars with one hand . . . and stroking her to insanity with the other.

In the middle of all that, Sean still fed her. Bite after bite passed her lips. She chewed fast and swallowed even faster, hoping that when she finished this meal that maybe there would be an almighty orgasm in her future.

Lifting her with him, Thorpe rose behind her, withdrawing his hands from her pussy and his lips from her neck before he set her back in his chair. Whimpering, Callie protested. Sean filled her mouth with another bite of egg, then toast. He washed it down with coffee from his cup. Then he took her lips again in a mind-numbing kiss, fingers tumbling into her hair, tongue plunging deep.

She threw herself against him, and their chests met. Her clamped nipples met his hard flesh, and a fresh riot of sensation ripped through her. She gasped into his kiss.

Suddenly, Thorpe returned and resumed his position behind her on the chair, his muscled slab of a chest—now bare—pressing into her back. Her skin sizzled at the contact. She hissed. A thousand feelings pelted her—the pressure on her tight nipples, the slight bitterness of Sean’s insistent coffee-flavored kiss, the press of Thorpe’s hair-roughened chest against her back, and the slide of his fingers on her pussy once more.

The burn of desire decimated her. She couldn’t have fought or refused them anything. All she could do was surrender, hope they would take her, and finally relent—give her the pleasure their every touch promised.