Just as Belle wondered what he meant, he released the first clamp.
The blood flowed back to her nipple, and she slammed back against the bed with a yelp. As he sucked her nipple into his mouth, her cry turned to a scream. Then tapered off to a gentle lick, his tongue easing her pain.
Eric dropped to his knees and worked the other nipple, laving her with affection. Sensations churned, meshed, growing exponentially. Then Kellan released the final clamp.
Her whole body clenched. His mouth covered her clit, drawing it in with a soft suckling. After a sharp spike of tingles and another high racing through her blood, Belle sank into the comforter, all of her men surrounding her, wishing this could last forever.
Chapter Fifteen
Belle sighed deeply as she dried the last dish and put it away. Dinner had been another awkward affair, full of stilted conversation where everyone avoided talking about the future. Instead, they’d discussed the tile she’d chosen for the downstairs bathroom and the removal of the hideous vomit yellow floral wallpaper in the master bath, but she knew they’d been half listening, more frustrated that she wasn’t budging about returning to Chicago.
How long could they remain in this limbo? They no longer mentioned their work to her, even though she’d told them she was interested. In fact, Belle was beginning to think they weren’t talking much at all. They definitely weren’t communicating.
The sound of her grandmother’s old television filtered in from the living room. Ah, the news. At this time of the evening, the broadcast was local, the usual fare that attempted to be hard-hitting while forcing in odd banter now and then.
After she’d painted the living room, the men had moved their office there. The space was far larger and contained more work surfaces, so they could spread out. Unfortunately, it also meant she couldn’t walk in and see them five times a day. She didn’t have a logical excuse, as she had in the kitchen. None of them were gullible enough to believe that she’d come into the living room for a drink of water or a nibble to tide her over until dinner. The formal space was in a corner of the house, so she couldn’t just happen by. When Belle did gather up the courage to enter their new “office,” she didn’t know what to say. So she’d stopped going. Other than meals, she barely saw them during the day. But she missed those men so much.
It had been over a week since she’d discovered them on her doorstep. She’d grown accustomed to finding them all over the house—maybe talking on the phone in front of the refrigerator or huddled in her favorite chair in the parlor with a laptop and coffee. But since she told them she didn’t see the relationship lasting, something had shifted. They’d relegated themselves to a room far out of her way and rarely left there unless they retreated to their own bedrooms. If she worked up the courage to ask for their help with a task, they graciously agreed to do it, but they no longer sought her out for a morning flirtation or an afternoon chat. They didn’t try to make her laugh or steal an afternoon kiss. They didn’t crowd her or watch her with hungry stares. Some days she wondered if they really even looked at her anymore.
After the work day, the men had fallen into patterns. They all had their assigned chores and performed them with the politeness of good roommates. They gave her every distant courtesy. She couldn’t fault them in any way—except the emotional chasm they seemed to be digging between her and them.
From the moment she woke until the time she went to bed, Belle’s frustration made her want to scream. And her heart felt so close to breaking.
At least until deep in the night. Then they ceased being distant roommates and came to her as lovers. Every night, they seduced her, touched her, groaned about how good she felt until she couldn’t think straight. They took her with their fingers, mouths, and cocks repeatedly. They impaled her ass with progressively larger plugs and they spanked her. They tied her up and forced her to take them in any and every way they wanted her. They consumed her completely as they made love to her.
Had sex, she corrected herself mentally. They had sex with her. They never mentioned love anymore. They cuffed her and teased her until they made her shout out their names. They grew their collection of toys a little each day and used them on her relentlessly. They taught her the intricacies of a D/s relationship, playing the role of her Masters every single night. And though Eric and Tate still slept in her room, they no longer cuddled her the way they used to. They merely stayed close so she would feel safe. Tate had even dragged an overstuffed chair into the room and began sleeping there.
Kellan always left the moment the orgasms ended. He would make her cry out until her throat felt scratchy and raw. Then he would depart for his own room, and she wouldn’t see him again until he nodded her way as they passed in the hall the next morning like relative strangers.
When they shared their bodies and such pleasure, Belle thought only of how they made her feel. When they were in bed together, she didn’t think about the future. She lived in the moment. But the moment was starting to confine her. Oppress her. Depress her.
With a weary sigh, she stepped away from the kitchen sink and sat at the eat-in table. Restlessness settled over her. She couldn’t seem to quiet the voices in her head. It had been days since she’d told Tate, Eric, and Kellan that she couldn’t return to Chicago with them. Belle still knew she couldn’t resume her old life, but she now dreaded the moment they would walk away. Because they would. Soon they’d realize she wasn’t the woman for them. Despite Tate’s idiosyncrasies and Kellan’s reluctance to get involved, they were a packaged deal. They would never be happy any other way. When they realized she couldn’t fulfill them, they would leave her for good.
Life wasn’t fair. She’d learned that at a young age. She’d watched fate snatch away her mother’s happy ending. After her father’s death, Mom hadn’t believed she had anything to live for. When her men had packed up and gone home, Belle feared she’d feel the same.
Sir scratched at the back door and she got up to let him out, closing the door quickly to keep out the humidity of the night.
At least the air conditioner seemed to be working now. It was a small miracle. Sir barked, and Belle saw the outline of that damn cat prowling around in the dark. The thing seemed to delight in making her dog insane.
The kitchen door swung open, and Eric strode through. He grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Thanks for doing the dishes.”
His tone was so polite, it hurt. “Thank you for cooking dinner. Are you still working?”
He nodded. “Yeah, my hearing got postponed until Monday, but I’ve got to be there. I bought my plane tickets this morning. I’ll only be gone for two days. Will you be okay here?”
She nodded, but the thought of not seeing him even for a few days made her anxious and achy. “Sure. Things should settle down now that the A/C is fixed and the wiring finally seems to be up to code.”
“I won’t be sad to see that pervert go.” Eric had never warmed to Mike. “What’s your next project?”
She hated the distance between them. He didn’t move closer to her, didn’t reach out to take her in his arms. The abyss seemed to widen every day. “The parlor. I’m going to sand the wainscoting and strip the paint from the crown molding so I can stain them and restore both to a more period-appropriate color.”
He nodded again, but it was a negligent gesture. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”
And then he was gone once more, heading back to the living room and leaving a terrible void in his wake.
Something had to give. Right now, she just hoped Eric actually came back from Chicago. What if he got there and remembered how much he loved it, how much less complicated everything was in his office? How much he enjoyed the comforts of his home? What if he called in a few days and told her to have a good life? Kell and Tate would leave shortly thereafter.