Page 19 of The Drag Race Debutante & the Detectives
A guttural groan came from between her legs. “Fucking soaked.”
Emily knew she should be embarrassed, knew what they were doing to her was obscene, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, especially when Dane flicked his tongue against her clit and sent her body into erotic overdrive. The man was relentless. They both were. Touching and teasing and licking and sucking, lavishing attention on every erotic nerve ending she owned.
Her body jolted as more of those electric zings pinballed around inside her, so much so that both Eric and Dane clamped their hands around her limbs to hold her in place for their continued debauchery.
Her brain didn’t know what to focus on. It kept looping, kept spinning, spinning, spinning until she thought she’d go crazy. The pain in her nipples heightened the pleasure between her thighs. The lingering soreness and heat in her arse, was soothed by the wet, open-mouth kisses on her neck and shoulder.
And those zings. “Oh my God,” she moaned. She was so close to coming. Every nerve in her body felt taut, ready to snap, and so help her if either one of them stopped what they were doing she would never speak to them ever again.
“That’s it, kitten,” Eric murmured against her throat. “That’s our good girl. Don’t think. Just feel.” He bit her earlobe, eliciting another needy moan, then sucked the aching flesh between his soft lips. “Feel our love,” he whispered in her ear. “Surrender to it. That’s our girl. Such a good girl.”
Dane chose that exact moment to slide two fingers deep inside her and curled them, applied pressure to just the right spot, then sucked her clit so hard that her orgasm didn’t just manifest, it exploded out of her. Her back arched, her legs shook, and she screamed like a banshee as she surrendered to her men. Promised them over and over again to be their good girl, even as the aftershocks of her release slowly wore off and her body stilled, leaving her in a satiated heap.
A moment later, Dane was lifting her off his brother’s lap and carrying her to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t big enough for all three of them, but soon enough they were all cleaned up and ready for bed. Emily couldn’t help noticing she was the only one still naked as they crawled under the covers, the brothers insisting on wearing their boxer briefs as they snuggled into her, as always, Eric at her front and Dane at her back, both of them sporting obvious erections.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, brushing her hands over their cocks, revelling in their deep moans. “Please.”
“Not tonight, baby,” Dane said, removing her hand and adjusting himself so his cock nestled between her buttocks.
Emily pouted. “Am I still being punished?”
“No, kitten,” Eric said, then chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We are.”
Chapter Eleven
Eric yawned and stretched the sleep from his body. He was still tired.
And rock hard.
Not surprising considering he’d spent the night next to the woman he was in love with and hadn’t taken the time to lose himself in her sweet, soft body.
Not that he hadn’t wanted to—he had, desperately—but he’d earned the pain of his abstinence.
Him and Dane both.
They’d known Emily was hiding something from them, had known for months, but they had no idea how deep her ennui truly went. And they’d only compounded her suffering with their disappearing act.
They had hurt their girl. Not intentionally, of course, but they’d suspected her listlessness had something to do with her position in the family business, had witnessed her slow retreat from family and friends, but they had never been able to get her to open up about it. Had never been able to break down that wall. And they hadn’t been willing to push her too hard in case they pushed her away.
Until last night.
Eric hated that he’d caused their woman more pain, both physical and emotional. Hated how they’d had to keep her in the dark about their work. And the phone call he’d had to make before coming up to the bedroom had not gone well.
He and Dane were to front up at the station and give a full report of what happened at nine o’clock sharp.
Eric looked at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was almost six.
Turning on his side, he found Emily curled against Dane’s chest, looking every bit like the kitten she was. He stroked her hair and absently rubbed the soft strands between his fingertips as the memory of the previous night replayed through his head.
He was a dirty fucker.
Even though he’d hated causing Emily pain, he’d loved seeing the acceptance and love in her eyes as she’d submitted to him. He’d hated her tears, but loved the capitulation behind them. Loathed using his belt on her flawless skin, but loved the marks it had left behind, marks that showed his possession. Showed she was his.
Lifting back the sheet, he exposed Emily’s body. Her creamy skin begged for his attention, as did all of those sumptuous, sexy as fuck curves. The stripes on her arse had faded to almost nothing, but she would feel them for a while yet. For the rest of the day, whenever she sat down, she would be reminded of who she belonged to.
Reminded not to belittle herself.
We left her alone for too long.
