“Do you want my mouth or my fingers?”
Clay asked the question, but I’d been focused on E, and it reinforced the feeling they were the same. Two different bodies, but one purpose. The fingers and mouth physically belonged to E, but they operated under Clay’s direction.
“Both,” I breathed.
Because I needed to come, and that would be the fastest way to get there.
Clay chuckled. “Greedy.”
E dragged his hands down my stomach as he settled in on his knees, getting comfortable. His palms smoothed along the insides of my thighs, pushing my legs wider. He already had enough room—he’d done it to exert control. Didn’t he know that was unnecessary? He had complete rule over me.
His gaze stayed locked on mine as he lowered his mouth to my pussy, and electricity jolted up my legs. I moaned in relief while his tongue fluttered, and I gasped in satisfaction when two thick fingers speared into me. He pulsed them deep and rough, and the fracture inside me widened. Everything hurt yet also felt like bliss, and the conflicting emotions threatened to burn me to ash.
There was a faint edge of concern in Clay’s words. “Are you about to come?”
I was panting and had to force it out. “Oh, God, yes.”
“Stop. It’s too soon.”
E froze, and I gawked at the camera, both confused and irritated. “But you said you’d take them off when—”
“Slow her down.”
My heart flipped upside-down because Clay’s order to stop wasn’t for me. It was for the man on his knees, and I whined with frustration when E followed the command. Both his mouth and fingers retreated, leaving me right on the edge. And when the pleasure was gone, so was the war for focus. It was all pain now.
“Clay,” I hissed.
He wasn’t deterred. “I want to see if you can come through the pain.”
“What?”
E’s gaze drifted down my body as if he felt guilt. Was it because he’d gotten me close too quickly for Clay’s liking? Or for what he was about to do?
One of the clamps was pulled from the black velvet bag, and my mouth went bone dry. I had an inkling of where he intended to use it, and just the thought of it made it so I couldn’t catch my breath. The word no echoed loudly in my head, but I kept my tongue leashed. Maybe he planned to use it somewhere else or—
Oh, no. I whimpered in trepidation as E drew in a deep, preparing breath, then pinched my clit between his forefinger and thumb. His gaze flicked to mine, either checking in or perhaps waiting to hear the word stop tumble from my lips. But every muscle in my body was tense and strained, and I was frozen with my intense curiosity.
What would it feel like?
Would it hurt worse than the magnets? Or would it be an even better ‘good pain?’
The long seconds suspended between us, and when it was clear I wasn’t going to stop him, E pushed forward. The rubber tips of the clamp closed around my clit, and he eased off his grip, increasing the bite on my sensitive, swollen nub of skin. It went on, and on, and I clenched my fists so hard, I was sure there were half-moon indentations in my palms from my fingernails.
“Fuck,” I groaned. My head lolled to one side, and panic bubbled in my stomach. The amount of pain was . . . staggering. Tears burned the edges of my eyes. I had to focus on drawing air in and out of my lungs, because if I thought about anything else, I’d fly apart.
It was surreal to see myself on the laptop screen. It exaggerated the feeling like I was outside my body, witnessing this the same way Clay was, rather than experiencing it in the moment. E shifted to one side between my legs so his torso no longer blocked Clay’s view, and the man on screen let out an appreciative sigh.
“Look at yourself,” Clay said with rich satisfaction, “squirming and whining as you try to hold it together. You’re so . . . achingly beautiful.”
Aching was right because everything throbbed and clamored for mercy. I shifted my hips as much as the belt around my waist allowed, futilely trying to get free. “Please . . .” I pleaded. Sweat dampened my temples and tremors rattled my body. “I can’t . . .”
E plucked the clamp off me, and the sharp pain was like a knife slicing down my clit. I hissed through clenched teeth and my vision blurred. It drove the two men into one shapeless figure, both my tormentor and my savior. He leaned in, licking the spot that was white-hot.
“Fucking fuck,” I gasped. “No.”
But I didn’t mean it, because as his tongue continued to caress and massage, the prickly sparks of his indecent kiss morphed into something else. My pain turned upside-down, tumbling into pleasure, and my no flipped along with it.