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“No more pain?” I whispered.

“No more pain.” He took my head in his hands and kissed my forehead.

“Then, we’re green.” I managed a tremulous smile. I hurt—majorly hurt—but I’d never felt so good.

“Lie down,” Emir murmured behind me. “The floor will ease the pain.”

He was right. The cold marble felt amazing on my backside. The adrenaline rush of euphoric pain super-heated my skin, and the tile cooled me.

“Gentleman’s choice,” Neil said, gesturing to me as though I were a buffet. Emir knelt between my legs, his body moving in a symphony of sinew and shadows, every muscle rippling in the light as he covered me. He slipped his hands under the small of my back, arching me so he could lick down the center of my ribcage, to my navel. My belly trembled.

Neil finally took off his trousers and knelt beside my head. He tapped his cock against my mouth. “Open.”

I licked my lips, parting them as much in obedience as in pleasure; Emir rubbed his cock over my clit, then slipped inside. His thrust rocked my welted flesh against the floor, and he stopped. “Will this hurt you?”

“Just enough.” I laughed, and kissed the sensitive underside of Neil’s shaft. The pleasure certainly dulled the discomfort some.

Neil’s cock stretched my jaw wide. When I reached up to take him into my hand, he pushed my hands away. “No. Touch yourself.”

I obliged, my fingers drifting down to my clit and to touch Emir’s slippery skin as his cock glided in and out. I rubbed myself frantically, unable to catch my breath as Neil fucked my face. My body tightened, and once again, Emir’s hands were at my back, drawing me up like a bowstring. My foot cramped, my hips bucked, and I was there, my entire body reduced to the throb of my clit and the clench of my cunt. The pleasure didn’t relent, pushed along by Emir’s pounding cock. Neil groaned and pulled back, the tip of his erection resting on my lower lip. He held my jaw open, his body stiffening as he came in ropes of hot semen against my tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” Emir said breathlessly. I wondered why, until he leaned over and kissed me, his tongue sweeping against mine, Neil’s cum passing between us. Emir’s sharp shout of release was muffled by my mouth. The pulse of his cock jerking as he came deep inside took me the rest of the way, and I squeezed around him, my heels digging into his ass.

He broke our kiss, panting, and looked up to Neil. Emir’s eyes were hazy and unfocused, and he laughed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel like I lost consciousness.”

Neil leaned down and kissed me, briefly. “What do you need first?”

“A shower,” I said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. He helped me up, but my legs still trembled from the adrenaline coursing through me. My heart pounded, and I sagged against Neil.

“Here,” Emir said. “Let me.”

I didn’t protest as he scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bathroom. I tucked my make-up smeared face against his chest. Neil went ahead of us to turn on the taps in the shower. There were eleven multi-directional showerheads, but he opted instead for the rainfall attachment in the center. Emir set me on my feet, but I was still wobbly, so I held onto his shoulders as we stepped into the water.

“Lean on me,” he said softly, bringing our wet skin together. I laid my cheek against his chest and let him support me as Neil stepped up behind us. I heard the click of a bottle opening.

“Brace yourself, this is cold,” Neil warned before his hands spread the shampoo over my hair. I moaned, and my knees went weak. The gentle scrubbing of his fingers against my scalp eased away the negative emotions that always threatened after a hard session. Though I craved pain, humiliation, and total domination, the reality of what I’d done, what I’d let them do to me, could bring me crashing down.

It affected Neil, too. We’d discussed before how ashamed he sometimes felt after we played. Though he knew I enjoyed the things he did to me, he still sometimes struggled with his own desire to hurt me during our scenes. The tender aftercare he provided wasn’t just for me, but for both of us. It reminded us of the purpose of our play.

While Neil washed my hair, Emir stroked his fingers up and down my spine, sluicing the water over my skin.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as your face when you came,” he murmured to me. “I’ve never seen pain so artfully transformed.”

The kind words brought tears to my eyes. Neil’s hands briefly stilled, and his body pressed closer as he and Emir kissed, slow and deep, above my head. I tilted my face up, and their mouths found mine, first Emir’s, then Neil’s.

After all three of us washed and dried, we went back to the bedroom. It still smelled like sex and sweat, and despite the satiety that made my limbs heavy and my brain weightless, the scent woke my appetite. Neil pulled the duvet back and lay me on the clean sheets, on my side so I could roll to my stomach and not put pressure on the marks on my behind. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared briefly, and I could only blink up at Emir sleepily.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice tired. “This has made my visit to New York more than worth the tedious flight.”

“I thought all billionaires had their own private jets,” I said. My voice was hoarse. I hadn’t realized how hoarse.

“Two,” Emir said with a smirk. “But that doesn’t mean I like to be trapped in one for twelve hours.”

“I’m glad we could welcome you with open…arms.” I raised an eyebrow, upping the cheese factor of my double entendre.

Emir mimed putting on sunglasses and quietly imitated the CSI theme song.


Tags: Abigail Barnette The Boss Billionaire Romance