Eddie’s instruction filled her with a surprising sense of calm. She did exactly as he ordered. She let go.
The orgasm ripped through her body with such force it left her breathless. She convulsed atop the mattress. As pleasure exploded in her lower belly, she gushed around Eddie’s thrusting fingers. He growled excitedly. “Oh, sugar. Yeah. That’s it. Come on my hand. Come all over it.”
Whitney moaned. Her mind was totally blown by the experience. She’d read about the phenomenon in her books and even seen it on porn clips, but actually living it?
Oh. My. God.
It was beyond incredible.
She tugged at her bonds as spasms racked her body. The vibrator was merciless against her pulsing clit. Eddie mercilessly pounded her pussy with his big fingers. She came and came and came until she thought for sure she would pass out.
When Eddie switched off and tossed aside the vibrator, Whitney whimpered. He slid down and licked her pussy. His tongue explored her folds as he licked up her juice. She shuddered at the deliciously dirty sensations he evoked.
Chin shining with her lady cum, Eddie rose to his knees and slammed balls-deep in her slick cunt. The labia clamps were swiftly removed. Whitney screeched as blood filled the starved vessels. Eddie’s thumb glided across her highly sensitized clit. Suddenly pleasure was mixed with pain. The potent combination made her head spin.
Eddie gripped her hips and took her hard and fast. Her breasts bounced, the clothespins slapping against her bare skin. Every now and then, Eddie flicked one off. So gone with pleasure, Whitney barely felt the prickly sting of heat as the compressed areas were filled with blood once again.
He leaned down between her bound limbs and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. His teeth scraped the tender nub, and she groaned. He released the peak with a noisy pop and moved to her other breast, the pale flesh marked with red stripes from the pinch of the clothespins.
Rough and raw, Eddie fucked Whitney like a wild man. She craved this kind of domination. She found the idea of giving up control made her deliriously happy.
Eddie nuzzled her face. “Can you come again, sugar?”
Whitney rubbed her cheek against his and grunted yes through the gag. Eddie seemed to understand and shifted his body weight to his right elbow. His left hand slid down between their bodies. He flicked her clit with his thumb until she howled through the gag. Desperate to grip his shoulders, Whitney made do with bucking her hips and nestling her face against his throat. Eddie whispered her name over and over as she chased his climax.
“Whitney!” He drove deep and jerked hard as he shot his cum against her womb. He stayed still for a long time before finally rising up to stare down into her eyes. He gently caressed her face and pulled the gag from her mouth. His thumb slid across the corners of her mouth to wipe away the saliva that had accumulated there.
Eddie claimed her lips in a demanding kiss. Completely satiated, Whitney sighed and snuggled closer. God, could life get any better than this?
Eddie massaged and kissed her limp body as he carefully untied her ankles and wrists. He kneaded her tired muscles and nibbled the sensitive places, eliciting giggles and smiles from Whitney. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered lovingly against her ear. “So pink and sweet.” He nibbled her lower lip. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Immensely,” Whitney answered with a grin on her face. A bit of movement off to her left caught Whitney’s attention. She craned her neck to see Mick sitting in the chair and stroking his rock-hard cock. “I think someone might need a little attention.”
“Yeah?” Eddie kissed her chin.
“Mmm-hmmm,” she hummed. “I think Mick could use a hand…or a mouth.”
“Or both?” Eddie suggested with a sly smile.
“Ooh.” Whitney nodded. “Definitely both.”
Chuckling, Eddie kissed her one last time and then slid off the bed. Eddie kneeled in front of Mick and pressed his lips to the other man’s stomach. Whitney rolled onto her side and fluffed a pillow as she got comfortable. The show wasn’t over yet-and she had the best seat in the house.
Chapter Eight
Eddie nervously paced the living room. His stomach churned with anxiety. Whitney was over an hour late and not answering her phone or replying to any texts.
“Will you sit down already?” Mick growled in frustration. “I’m trying to watch this game. Still tied, and we’re at the bottom of the ninth inning.”
Eddie bit back the urge to snap and asked, as calmly as possible, “How can you watch that when she’s this late?”
Mick shrugged. “She’s probably working.”
“Then why isn’t she answering her phone?”
“Who knows?” Mick sipped his iced tea. No alcohol for him tonight because he was on call. “She’s a grown woman, Eddie. She doesn’t have to report her every move.”
He grumbled under his breath. “She’s our girlfriend. She should keep us in the loop.”
“Do you call her every time you’re running late or heading out for a burger with your team?”
“Hell yes, I do.”
Mick seemed surprised. “You don’t ever send me texts or call me when you’re running late.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Please don’t pout.”
Mick squinted in annoyance. “Ass.”
“Look, it’s just different with Whitney. If you’re home alone, I don’t worry so much. You’re a man. You’re able to defend yourself. She’s tough, but she’s small and unarmed. I want her to be on her toes if she hears weird noises around the house. I’d hate for her to assume it’s me coming in from the garage when I’m still at the station.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
Eddie dug his phone out of his pocket and checked for a message again. Still nothing. He punched in a quick text and hit send.
The rustling sound of Mick reaching into his bag of pita chips grated on Eddie’s nerves. The subsequent crunching was just worse. He left the living room for the relative quiet of the kitchen. His gaze landed on the dry-erase calendar Whitney had put up on the wall closest to the refrigerator not long after moving into the house. She seemed to thrive on schedules, calendars, and sticky notes. She’d assigned them all a different color. Red for Mick. Blue for Eddie. Orange for her. It was a quick way for the three of them to keep track of one another.
His focus settled on the loopy orange writing for today. Her last day of work. Dinner with the girls, whoever the hell they were. Hopefully she was out with “the girls” and not upside down in a ditch somewhere or worse.
Mick hooted wildly. Eddie’s fists curled at his sides. How the hell could he be so calm at a time like this?
Eddie wondered if it would always be like this. Now that things were getting more serious between the three of them, that is. Whitney’s particular occupation required lots of very late nights and traveling. She could be in LA one week, Paris another, and New York City the next. Eddie couldn’t possibly keep up with her every minute of the day. He wasn’t quite that crazy, of course. He had to take care not to come across as overbearing or controlling. That wasn’t his intention. Far from it, he wanted Whitney to enjoy life and see her friends and do her work.
It’s just that he knew what kind of horrible, loathsome people existed out there. He’d seen the very worst the city had to offer and shuddered at the idea of Whitney becoming the prey of some evil bastard. His need to protect her ran deep.
“Headlights,” Mick called from his perch on the sofa.
A few seconds later, Eddie heard the telltale whine and clank of the garage door opening. His tension ratcheted down a few notches. At least she was alive.
But when she came swanning through the laundry room without a care in the world, Eddie lost it.
“Where have you been?”
Whitney’s eyes widened. She stood still in the doorway. “Out with friends.”