Page 177 of Triple Pucked
Eden is paler than normal. But Cassian’s kind idea of this room has meant that he can be included.
He would hate to be out in the main room of the party, as much as his brother loves it.
Yet his battling to cope with being here now is his gift to me.
“I am too.” Eden tilts his head. “We need to be together. I want to show you what Jude has been teaching me. All the same safewords.”
My breathing speeds up.
I’ve been desperate to discover this side of him. I know that he will be different to D’Angelo.
He is dressed in a purple velvet suit with a pink waistcoat. A pair of striped purple ears poke from his slicked back hair and a matching tail from his suit jacket.
He looks like a dangerously hot cat.
With the way that he steps over the candles and stalks toward me, I feel like the prey.
Eden is running the show.
Instantly, my throat dries.
Eden doesn’t use words like D’Angelo does to dominate. His dominance is natural and heady.
I allow myself to fall down and down into it in silence.
When Eden slips his hand into my hair, yanking me toward him, I moan into his kiss.
When he draws back, his gaze is intense. “Tonight, feel how we love you.”
That hits me hard enough to make me shake.
Eden pushes me toward Shay. “Strip her.”
I’m already in a daze.
Worshipfully, Shay removes my dress, kissing each revealed piece of skin, down my sides, inner thighs, and ankles.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Eden and D’Angelo checking the leather straps of the swing that is hanging from the roof.
Then D’Angelo nods at Eden.
Eden prowls to me, leading me toward the leather harnesses. “Lie on your back. Spread your legs and put your legs up on each of these straps. Color?”
I flush, as I am exposed fully with my legs spread wide.
“Green,” I reply, breathless.
It is a strange sensation, as Eden ties me down into the swing, keeping my legs open for whatever my men want. Only, I know that this is for my pleasure. And I know that the straps are for my safety.
At the pull of each buckle, I sink into a deeper place in my mind.
My head hangs back, staring up at the roof, which is bright with lights like stars.
Someone walks between my legs, running their thumb down my inner thigh and then just above where I am desperate to be touched.
My core is wet and aching.
“You look beautiful like this,” D’Angelo says. “I knew that you would. Ready to be used anyway we want.”
