Page 59 of Unstitch

‘I’m going to clamp her nipples,’ he says cheerily, and she gasps. I’m not surprised. It sounds aggressive.

‘I’m not sure—’ she begins.

‘Unless you say your safeword, I’m not interested,’ he barks. ‘Do you have something to say?’

They exchange a heated look, and she shakes her head.

‘Good girl.’ He produces a pair of hot pink clips from his pocket. They look like silicone—not what I was expecting. ‘Dex, start getting her worked up. I’ll put these on for a few minutes. When she’s getting ready to blow, I’ll take them off.’

‘Okay,’ I say stupidly, but I stay frozen, one knee on the bed as he pinches and rolls each nipple before fastening the tiny Barbie-pink clips to them. They look ridiculous and outlandish and sore, but Darcy’s little whimpers and sharp intakes of breath tell me she can handle the sensation.

‘Come the fuck on,’ Max says exasperatedly, and I put my second knee on the bed, lowering my head to the glossy pink haven between her legs.

40

DARCY

Even before Dex touches me, my body is thrumming like a tuning fork. I’m pure sensation. Arousal rolls over me in waves, the sharp pinch of my clamps dialling down as the blood flow halts and my nipples grow numb. But with my legs like this, the throb of my clit is so acute even the air is too much teasing to bear.

Dex already looks dishevelled from my kisses. When he crouches down on the bed, a thick lock of dark hair falls over his forehead. There’s a grim set to his mouth as he surveys me through his lashes that spells trouble for me. And if that wasn’t ominous enough, Max is pacing, hands in his pockets, like a panther who’s been on a lentil diet and is out for blood.

‘Remember who’s boss,’ he tells Dex roughly, pausing right by him. ‘You are. Make her take it. Whatever you like.’

Why the fuck this has me practically coming into thin air I don’t know, but I’m pumped so full of anticipation I’m trembling in my restraints.

Dex closes his eyes for a second. ‘Fucking amen to that,’ he mutters, and, his own blasphemous brand of grace said, lowers his head.

I’m expecting—I don’t know—kisses and licks, soft and teasing, exploratory and beguiling. I’m not expecting the bite as his teeth close sharply around the skin of my inner thigh. It smarts, and I yelp, but then he’s licking the same spot before he turns, his nose and mouth millimetres from my pussy.

He stares at me, eyes dark, and splays his hands over my thighs before he licks me, long and hard, his tongue taut and decisive, from back to front.

It’s so perfect and gorgeous and wonderful and everything that I practically shoot off the bed, mewling my appreciation.

‘How does she taste?’ Max demands, resuming his pacing.

‘Fucking unbelievable,’ Dex mutters against my skin. His hands are still pushing my legs apart, his fingertips digging into my thighs, his breaths fast and hot and infuriating.

‘Good,’ Max says brusquely. ‘Show her—go on.’ He comes to the side of the bed and kneels, checking the clamps, kneading my breasts, stroking my stomach, brushing my hair off my face. His movements aren’t tender, though. They’re possessive. Like he’s bought me and he’s checking me over.

Dex clearly decides not to go so easy on me, because his next touches are far more teasing. He circles my clit like he’s getting to know it. He removes a hand from my thigh and uses two fingers to part my lips, holding me wide open for him before blowing on my poor flesh and then licking along, between, every fold like he’s learning me—which is romantic as hell and torturous as fuck.

I give myself over to the intense physical yearning. Every lick, every movement of his fingertips against me, elicits a moan from me. And when he slowly slides a single finger all the way in and then all the way out of me, I almost scream the club down. He’s not doing it to be gentle; he’s doing it to drive me crazy.

‘So fucking greedy,’ Max observes to Dex.

‘Mmm,’ Dex murmurs. ‘But so sensitive, too.’

‘She’s very amenable when you’re playing with her cunt,’ Max tells him. ‘Less so the rest of the time, unfortunately.’ And he promptly sticks two fingers in my mouth, flattening my tongue. I taste myself on them faintly. ‘Suck,’ he orders, ‘hard,’ and I obey. I can’t move my tongue, but I employ all the suction in my cheeks.

‘Fuck,’ Max groans. ‘I’ll have to give her my cock in a sec. She sucks so well.’

Dex’s face jerks up between my legs for a moment, like he hadn’t quite thought through the full implications of agreeing to a threesome, but I’m too far gone to care. I’ll do anything Max tells me to do. And if that means putting on a show and choking on his dick while Dex licks me, I’ll do it.

‘I’ve got to,’ Max says, shuddering at the thought of it as he slides his fingers out of my mouth. He toes off his loafers and gets up on the bed, facing away from Dex and straddling me. I’m in the middle of the bed, arms outstretched above my head, and his knees land either side of my armpits.

I can’t see Dex anymore, but all I care about is that he’s started touching me again with slow, decadent swirls of his tongue and drags of his fingers in and out of my sensitive pussy. It seems he likes what he tastes, his low, male groans cutting through me almost as forcefully as the skill of his tongue.

Instead, I look up at Max looming over me, huge and powerful from this angle, his jaw clenched as he rips his belt buckle open and tugs down his zip. He reaches into his black boxer briefs and frees his cock, letting it slap me on the cheek, his precum painting a wet stripe across my face. I turn my head and stick out my tongue, trying to catch it, and he laughs.

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