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.
“You need us, don’t you, pet? You’re coming apart. I feel your heat. I hear your breathing. I can taste your excitement.”
“We’re going to make you scream for us, lovely,” Sean added.
“Please . . .” Callie heard the pleading note in her voice and didn’t care. Whatever brought her relief and sanity, whatever urged them to fill and fulfill her, that’s what she needed now.
“But not just yet.” Sean swallowed down the last of his protein bar and tossed the wrapper on the table, then looked Thorpe’s way. “You finished eating?”
“Yes.” Thorpe’s wrapper joined his a minute later, and she heard him swallow in her ear.
“Let’s go. We need a bed.”
Callie’s pulse jumped. A dozen images all leapt to the front of her fantasies as she interpreted what Sean’s words might mean, but the one above all others, dazzling her with want, shimmering hope and promise was the thought of them both giving her all of their desire and making love to her.
“Please . . .” she wailed again.
“Fuck,” Thorpe swore.
Gawd, she hoped so.
His palms heated the insides of her thighs with a possessive caress before his fingers slid back into her drenched folds and he manipulated her clit until she was a breath shy of an orgasm she knew would rob her of all sanity.
Bucking for more, keening with the need so acute she saw black spots dancing at the edge of her vision, she reached blindly for Sean and fused their lips together in a searing kiss that had her swallowing his lust, feeling his heartbeat against her own, hearing the blood roar in her ears.
“Fuck is right,” Sean muttered as he tore his lips free and lifted her to her feet.
The second she stood upright, Thorpe grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. He clasped her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes. “Unless you stop me, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stop screaming. Last chance to say no, pet.”
“Why would I stop you? I need you.”
Thorpe shook his head. “I’m too old for you.”
“You know what the hell you’re doing,” she argued. “I trust you.”
He scowled. “I’m not a tender lover.”
“If you make me come, I’ll relish every second.”
“Only if you’re good, lovely,” Sean taunted in her ear.
Then his fingers found their way to her nipples, toying with the clothes pins clamping them. The pressure there fed the ache below, which he found with his next touch. The caress teased her with just enough sensation to make her knees weak and her blood surge . . . but not enough to send her over the edge.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Thorpe leaned closer, his lips hovering just over hers. “I’ve wanted you so badly . . .”
Callie melted against him as his gaze and Sean’s hands both caressed her. She felt beautiful. They gave that gift to her just by being here with her. She believed they adored and treasured her. Now she knew they’d do anything to keep her safe. Did they have any idea how desperately and for how long she’d wished to feel like that? In all the times circumstance had forced her to flee whatever rattrap she’d temporarily called home and the strangers who might have become friends in different situations, she’d never really imagined she’d feel like the most precious person in the world to anyone.
“I’ve wanted you, too. Why did you never—”
“Eventually you’ll leave me,” Thorpe choked out.