Unfurl: Chapter 14

Callum sucks in a breath. ‘It’s very good when you beg, baby. Very, very good. I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been playing at, keeping this locked away for so long, but we know what a dirty girl you are under that pristine, virginal exterior of yours. We know what you need, and we’re going to give it to you.’

A hand lands on my stomach, palm pressed against my skin, fingers splaying over me. A thumb toys with the elastic waistband of my panties.

‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Belle. You should be proud of yourself for taking what you need.’

Callum’s voice caresses me roughly.

Another hand grips my thigh. It must be the guy at my feet—he’s still holding onto one ankle. Still massaging my instep, while the hand on my thigh drags up and down. Up. And down.

And then yet more hands palm both of my breasts, the skin rubbing over my nipples with enough pressure to tease but not enough to satisfy. The little nubs pebble, their flesh instantly stiffening, and as I let out a hum of pleasure, another sense assaults me.

It’s Rafe.

Oh my God.

I can smell him.

It’s him. I’m sure it’s him. These must be his hands on my breasts, because I sure as hell couldn’t smell him before, but that herbal scent mixed with him?

It’s unmistakable.

I’m frozen and insanely turned on all at once, because if I’m right, and I know I am, then Rafe is right here, touching me, and seeing my body, and even worse, or maybe better, seeing my reaction to him.

The imbalance of power has me stunned, but it also spurs me on to enjoy every second of this.

To milk it for all it’s worth.

To put on a performance. Because I know this is my gig, this is about my pleasure. But I’d die, I’d truly die, if I thought Rafe would walk out of here unaffected. I don’t know exactly what I want from this man, or at least I’ve been pretty careful not to analyse what I want from him too deeply up until now, but I know this.

I want him to want me.

I want him to stumble out of here with the most painful erection he’s ever had.

I want him to see me come, to see what he does to me, and to feel the same desperation to come that he’s going to arouse in me before this little game is over.

Because it is a game. No doubt about it. There’s a reason Callum, if that’s his real name, introduced himself and not the others.

Rafe is incognito for his own reasons.

But he’s here.

I feel like the girl who’s just watched the boy she likes arrive at the party. Who feels like everything is instantly brighter. Better. More real, now that he’s here.

The hands on my breasts palm me harder. I don’t know for certain that they belong to Rafe, but I’d put money on them being his hands, because it seems to be Callum’s hands on my stomach and around my wrist.

And the guy at my feet? He’s stopped kneading my instep and instead is sliding his second hand up to join his first one so that they both land on my thighs, fingers pressing into my flesh as they drag along my skin, thumbs massaging and getting dangerously close to my panties.

Callum keeps talking, his voice rich and seductive.

‘You like this game, Belle? You like having three men touching you all at once? You like knowing that all these big hands are dying to touch your pussy? That we all want to put our mouths on you?’

‘Yes,’ I gasp, arching in the chair, pressing into Rafe’s hands.

‘You like how we’re touching those pretty pink nipples? Are they hard?’

I think he’s addressing me, but the hands lift off me, and I almost whimper at the loss. Because right now, my entire consciousness is focused on the hypnotic circular movements of Rafe’s hands on my nipples.

‘Fuck, yes,’ Callum breathes. ‘That’s my girl. Look at those nipples. They’re so fucking tight. I bet we can get them tighter. I bet your pussy is clenching too, isn’t it? Wait till you see what’s in store for you.’

Rafe pinches my nipples hard, so hard, and two thumbs swipe equally hard over the flesh between my legs, staying just out of reach of the sensitive line from my clit to my entrance. I buck.

‘We’re going to make it great for you tonight,’ Callum says, ‘because you’re such a quick little learner, and you’re so fucking responsive. But it’s your loss, because we’re not allowed to go inside those ridiculous little panties of yours, which means we can’t stick any of our long, thick fingers inside that tight pussy.’

‘It’s okay—you can,’ I gasp out, because I’m so turned on that I’d rather say something stupid than forgo the maximum amount of pleasure these men are capable of giving me.

Callum laughs, pleased, before tutting. ‘Nope. House rules. But we’re going to have some fun now, okay?’

I nod.

We’re going to have some fun.

Rafe is right here, and we’re going to have some fun.

Oh, God.

Suddenly, all the hands disappear and I lie back in my seat, internally groaning with anticipation.

I’m not frozen now.

Far from it.

I’m white hot. Primed for their next touch. And they’re just getting started.

They move about the small room. I hear shuffling and then the unmistakable clinking of ice cubes. What the hell?

Then I can hear and sense them move back around me. Circling me. A pregnant pause, and then a synchronised assault as ice cubes hit my nipples and my clit through the ineffectual gauze of my bra and panties. They swirl, and they’re gone.

I let out a low moan as my body bucks in the chair. My fingers dig into the arm-rests. God, that feels amazing. Extraordinary. The ice-cold wet patches tease my skin. I need a lot more where that came from.

Callum’s back in his previous position, his breath hot against my ear. Teasing. ‘How did that feel, Belle?’

‘Incredible,’ I mouth on a gasp.

‘Hmm. Not sure you’re ready for all that pleasure, a shy little virgin like you. What do you think? Should we go gently on you? Take it easy, like we were doing before?’

A finger swipes over my sex, and I buck again at the contact. The not knowing when it’s coming, where they’ll touch me, and how much they’ll give me is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

Not that I have much to compare it to, but still. This isn’t your average first-time third-party orgasm.

‘No,’ I tell Callum, horrified by how needy my voice sounds. ‘I’m ready.’

He chuckles, amused. ‘Ready for what?’

‘Ready for everything.’

‘Do you want to come tonight, Belle?’

‘Yes.’ My head thrashes from side to side.

‘Yes what?’

‘Yes please,’ I say, and there’s a harsh intake of breath that I could swear comes from Rafe. Holy crap.

No one is touching me right now, and I feel bereft. There are three guys standing around me, their eyes on me, their hands ready to do God knows what to me, and they’re wasting time. It’s frustrating.

And it’s not fair.

‘I want you all to touch me,’ I say with a firmness that belies my mortification at voicing such thoughts. Because I can’t tell if they’re just teasing me, or if they really do need my permission to proceed, but I’m not taking any chances.

I won’t let them leave me hanging.

I recall the suggestion in the schedule Genevieve sent me that, if I liked, this session could be just about teasing me. Getting me used to being touched without laying on the pressure, the vulnerability, of orgasming.

To think I considered starting slow. Starting with a tease.

I’d be even more of a mess than I am right now.

‘You heard the lady,’ Callum says in a voice that’s less cajoling, more authoritative, and it’s as if a switch has been flipped. The charge in the room ratchets up a notch. ‘She wants us to go to town on her.’

I don’t know why hearing him refer to me in the third person is so instantly arousing, but it is. It’s as if I’m their plaything. I’m not some needy virgin they should treat with kid gloves.

I’m fair game.

Three against one.

I don’t stand a chance.

I let something between a sigh and a moan escape my throat, and it unleashes them. The guy in front of me pushes my knees apart. My thighs slide across the seat, slick with sweat, before several things happen at once.

He nudges his body between them, keeping them apart with his shoulders, as an ice cube is run up and down my seam, from my entrance to my clit. I can feel the slight pressure of fingers around it, probing just hard enough through the soaking fabric to alight all my nerve-endings.

Cold hits both my nipples, and it takes me a second to establish that there’s a mouth on each breast, tongues rolling ice cubes over nipples that are now so hard and achy they may snap right off.

A full body shudder courses through me as I throw my head back and give myself over to the ache. The sensation. Oh my God. Rafe’s mouth is presumably on my nipple right now.

For a moment, there’s just the music and, over it, the sounds of my ragged breathing and my involuntary moans as well as the rasp of fabric and noises from the busy mouths on me that are so appreciative and hungry and male they add a whole other layer to the sensory overwhelm.

Next thing I know, one of the mouths comes off my nipple with a pop and is replaced with cold, ice-cube-wielding fingers. A hand slides around my neck, gripping my hair and tugging my head back. And then there’s a mouth crashing angrily onto mine and oh my God oh my God oh my God it’s Rafe.

I swear it’s Rafe.

It smells like him and I swear it tastes just how I knew he would taste. There’s scotch on his ice-cold tongue, the scotch I watched him drink at the bar, and said tongue is forcing my mouth open and ramming home like I’m Christmas dinner.

I want to raise my hand, and slide it around his neck, and rake my fingers through that gorgeous, silky dark hair of his. I want to claw at his skull and pull his mouth even closer to mine. But my arms are kind of trapped by the two male bodies leaning across me, so I dig my nails into the leather instead.

It’s Rafe’s hand on the nipple his mouth just vacated. I know it is, because it’s moving feverishly, far more in sync with his mouth than with Callum’s mouth on my other nipple. He’s pinching and squeezing and rolling it as his gorgeous mouth plunders mine.

I knew he’d be an amazing kisser, but Lord, I never imagined his kisses to be this hungry. This consuming. Like his tongue is trying to have sex with my mouth. The wet slides of his lips and the taut invasion of his tongue have that sensory overwhelm soaring.

There are so many things going on I can’t quite separate them, because Rafe’s in my face, and I have two different men working their magic on my straining nipples, and suddenly the guy between my legs removes the ice cube and puts his mouth between my legs, and his warm tongue is on my cold clit, rubbing it through my panties, the gauzy barrier providing extra friction.

He adds a fingertip that probes my entrance right through the fabric, pressing just deep enough to make me wish with every fibre of my being that he’d tug my panties aside, or rip them off completely, and breach me.

Because I may not have had sex before, but I’ve had my own fingers and a few toys inside me, and I know how fantastic that feels.

The rhythmical assault of his tongue on my clit has me wound tighter and tighter as these three men hit my pleasure centres again and again and Rafe continues to kiss me. I’m moaning into his mouth almost continuously now, a low, pitiful hum that’s my only outlet for the wave of sensation that’s building in every nerve ending in my body.

In return, or reward, he amps up the delicious grunts he’s making while he kisses me. Everyone’s panting now, everyone’s desire is becoming more audible, and the drag of Callum’s hand over my stomach grows rougher before he slides it under my bum and his finger joins the other guy’s at my entrance.

He unseals his mouth from my wet, hard nipple long enough to mutter, ‘Fuck me. She comes in here this sweet little virgin, and look at her letting three of us get her off.’ Suck. ‘Not letting us, begging us, isn’t that right?’

In answer, I moan into Rafe’s mouth. He winds his tongue more forcefully against mine.

‘She’s taking it so well. Fuck, I wish I could finger fuck her right now. I bet she needs it so badly.’ Callum’s finger pushes harder, and I open my legs as wide as I can.

‘Just wait till we get her back next week,’ he tells the others, and with that ominous threat he’s back down, devouring my nipple with his tongue, grazing it with his teeth.

I’m vaguely aware of my moans into Rafe’s delicious mouth growing louder. I’m vaguely aware of my body bucking in its chair and of Callum removing his finger from under me so he can splay a hand across my pelvis and hold me down. Of him telling my breast what a dirty little girl I really am. How I need to come for them as hard as I can. How I need to let go.

And I’m spectacularly aware that every erogenous part of me is under the most intense assault they could ever have hoped for.

God, I get it now.

The maths thing.

Rafe was so right.

The ministrations of these men will spoil me for life.

This is the best thing ever. Ever, ever, ever.

With that hazy realisation, I’m pole-vaulting right through the edges of my consciousness to a place that’s exploding colours and golden lights and jagged, perfect pleasure. I shudder and shudder. I cry out as Rafe bites down on my bottom lip and tightens his grip on the back of my neck, and I free-fall through an orgasm that feels less like a rollercoaster ride and more like para-gliding, or skydiving.

Slowly, slowly, I descend to earth. Mouths leave my body. Rafe pulls back and presses a soft kiss to my lips. A hand goes to my hair, stroking it off my temple. The guy who ate me through my underwear gently presses my knees together and smooths his hands down my thighs in the way a masseur does through the towel at the end of a massage.

I lie slumped in the chair, the orgasm haze slowly leaving my brain. My robe is tugged over me, draped across my stomach. Someone ties it. And all the while, Callum’s soft voice is in my ear.

‘We’re so proud of you, Belle. You little fucking beauty. You’ve got one hell of a journey ahead of you, and you’re going to love every minute of what this place has to give you.’ He tugs my earlobe gently with his teeth before continuing. ‘You did so well, I can’t tell you.’

I don’t say anything. I lie there, catching my breath, allowing his praise to wash over me like a caress.

Foot Guy gets up, and a drawer pulls open with a grating sound. Next I know, a light, soft blanket is being draped over me and pressed around me. Rafe’s hand leaves my hair, and lips I know must be his press to my temple.

They’re leaving.

I should be mortified. I should be newly self conscious, cold in the absence of my earlier arousal, but I already feel bereft that they’re leaving.

That he’s leaving.

The one thing I don’t have the courage to do is call him out on his identity. Ridiculously, I don’t want to cause a scene.

‘We’re going to head now,’ Callum tells me, ‘because the three of us are so fucking hard that we have to take care of business. Okay, baby?’

I clear my throat. ‘Okay—of course. Of course. Um. Thank you. For…’

He chuckles. ‘The privilege and the pleasure were entirely ours, Belle. Believe us. See you next week, if we’re lucky.’ He plants a lingering kiss on my cheek before I feel him rise.

The door in front of me cranks open, and there’s a brief rush of low-level noise and a heavy bass before they shuffle out and the door slams shut.

I exhale heavily and push my mask up, glancing around the room in a total daze.

I’m not sure what just happened.

All I know is, I want more of that. More than that. Far more.

Rafe was right. That was transcendent. And that wasn’t even full sex.

I wish I was a paid-up member of this club and not some stupid virgin.

I wish I could do that on a Friday night without a second thought and then follow Rafe out into that corridor.

Be the girl who can give him what he really wants.

Because, right now, I have a mountain to climb before I’m that girl.