The pinch on my nipple grew in intensity right along with the man’s hurried tempo, and Clay’s grip was no longer pleasant. It turned achy and white-hot as it went on. Even when I whimpered and my breath went ragged, he didn’t back down. His unrelenting pinch rode the rise and fall of my chest, never losing tension.
It hurt.
And yet . . .
Like his ruler, I liked the pain. It focused me into the moment and made me experience both men physically at the same time. One was pleasure, and one was pain, and my body had no idea which one it liked more.
Clay shifted beneath me, and I could feel he was aroused. The man’s thrusts were hard enough they reverberated through me, making me rock against the erection at my back. Did the man realize as he was fucking me, he wasn’t just giving Clay pleasure through the visual—he was causing it as well?
“Fuck,” I whined. The pain in my nipple was agony and would have scrambled my thoughts—if I’d had any left. I didn’t because the man drove into me at a mind-numbing pace. All I could do was experience.
Since my mind was voided out, Clay moved in and took over the space.
“I’m the one who made this possible.” His hand on my waist drifted up, and for a split second I panicked that he was going to put his other hand inside my corset. I wouldn’t be able to take it if he decided to pinch me on the other side too. But his hand continued to travel upward. “Everything you feel right now is because of me. All this pain, all this pleasure. His big cock filling you up? That’s me.”
I heard Clay’s words while I stared at the handsome stranger, and it only further blurred the two men together into one.
My body was desperate and aching for relief. An orgasm had been a distant dream but suddenly closed in as a very possible reality, and heat built in my center. My soft moans swelled into gasping, urgent cries. When I grew shamefully loud, Clay’s hand went over my mouth, his fingers catching and muffling my needy groans.
I dangled right on the cusp for a second and an eternity, the moment suspending between wanting it to be over and begging for it to never end.
The man’s hips beat furiously into me, and Clay dropped his head into the crook of my neck. In my heightened state, everything was more sensitive. His whiskers were sharp, scraping against my skin as his lips parted, and then he sank his teeth into my neck—right where my pulse pounded.
His bite wasn’t any worse than his merciless fingers twisting my nipple, but the new source of pain crossed more wires inside me and caused exquisite chaos. The final push I needed came just after, when the man adjusted my leg draped over his arm. The change in the angle was delicious, but it was where he had put a hand down to brace himself that detonated the pleasure in my body.
He gripped Clay’s thigh, and both men seemed comfortable with the placement.
“I’m coming,” I cried.
“Yes,” the men said at the same time. Or maybe they had a singular voice now, speaking as one.
Fireworks blasted up my spine and shimmered through my limbs. My breath cut off as my lungs shut down and my heart jerked to a sudden halt. It was like every function in my body had to power down to weather the storm of my orgasm.
Which was shockingly intense. So fucking powerful, tears welled in my eyes.
Pain shifted onto its side, morphing into something else. Clay’s pinch was gone, but the burning ache became pins and needles as blood rushed back to my skin. The harshness of his bite on my neck softened into a kiss.
I was left quaking when the most intense orgasm of my life began to recede, and it left me only vaguely aware the man was close to coming. It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and his expression twisted with a carnal hunger that I realized what was about to happen. The muscles rippling beneath my palm tightened, and a huge gasp of breath burst from his lips.
His thrusts fell out of rhythm, turning jerky and erratic before slowing nearly to a stop. “Fuck.”
His face left no doubt he was orgasming, but there were also the pulses inside me to signal how much pleasure was rolling through him. Wave after wave, diminishing until there was only his uneven breath left in the aftermath.
God, he was beautiful like this. His eyes were clear but unfocused, and he looked at me like I held all the secrets he’d been searching for his whole life. Didn’t he know that wasn’t possible? He knew more about Clay’s world than I did.