ComingUnbound

by Lacey Savage

  My stomach tensed as Cole lifted the last piece of food off my body. I had been keeping track of each individual bite, eager to know when I could writhe to my heart’s content.

  “Good girl.” Cole slid two fingers along my slit.

  I gasped and thrust my hips forward, seeking closer contact. I didn’t even see Erik move, but suddenly he stood across from Cole once again, his mouth working its way along my hip bone, toward my pussy.

  “Your safe word is mercy. If any of this gets too intense, say the word and we’ll stop.”

  I didn’t say it aloud, and wasn’t asked to repeat it. Mercy. I didn’t need to speak it. I wouldn’t forget.

  The men spread my legs and I let them as my labored breathing increased. I lifted myself up on my elbows, not wanting to miss a single moment of this.

  Their bent heads over my cunt nearly undid me. I shoved my ass off the counter and arched my back, silently demanding all they had to give.

  The contact of their lips against my swollen flesh was pure heaven, and I nearly sobbed. Cole’s stubble caused a delicious friction, while Erik’s careful love bites on my labia awakened a hunger inside me that pulsed and throbbed with each lick, thrust and caress.

  Cole slid a finger inside me. Erik circled my clit with his thumb then covered the tender nub with his mouth. Together they worked me over, alternating the pumping motion of Cole’s finger with Erik’s butterfly-soft thrumming of my clit.

  My body sizzled and sang as they strummed it. I hovered on the edge of a precipice, desperate to throw myself off the cliff and scream at the top of my lungs as I soared.

  They fucked me with their mouths and fingers, made me think of their large, beautiful cocks deep inside my body. I imagined Cole’s shaft stretching my pussy as Erik’s cock stretched my mouth. I wanted to take them both, in every possible way, over and over again until I didn’t know my own name, until I’d come so hard and so often that I was spent and boneless, a sobbing mess covered in sweat and cum.

  “That’s it, honey,” Cole urged. I could hear the strain in his voice, the monumental effort it must have taken for him to hold back. “Let go.”

  I flattened my lips into a thin line and tried to do just that. My pussy clenched around Cole’s fingers while my clit throbbed in anticipation of orgasm. I squirmed, thrust hard against them and begged for release.

  It never came.

  Frustration coiled every one of my muscles, but the orgasm I so desperately craved faded before it could detonate.

  Erik pulled back first. He stilled Cole’s finger with a touch of his hand against Cole’s wrist.

  I heard my husband’s frustrated growl and knew exactly how he felt. Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth and stumbled off the counter.

  Arms wrapped around me, and I recognized Cole’s safe embrace. I sank into the warm shelter of his body, leaned against his strong chest and gave in to the overwhelming sadness squeezing my insides. I didn’t cry, but neither did I move or speak or do anything at all to acknowledge what had just happened.

  Cole soothed me with soft whispers. He trailed his fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp while his other hand pressed against the base of my spine. Nothing about his caresses was overtly sexual, but his rock-hard cock nudged my stomach. I acknowledged that he hadn’t come; that neither man had. I supposed that made us all even.

  After what felt like many long minutes, Erik touched my shoulder. “You did well today.”

  Well? Was he insane? I opened my eyes and gaped at him. “I didn’t come.” I hated the whine in my voice, hated how quickly I’d splintered from a sensual woman in control to an uncertain, sorrowful mess. “And I smell like pickles!”

  “It’s our first session.” He chuckled and petted my head as though stroking a feral kitten. “I’m good, but I don’t perform miracles.”

  Cole sighed, kissed my temple. “He’s right. You were amazing.”

  Pride seeped in, little by little, slowly replacing the bone-numbing disappointment I felt all the way to my toes. I made a low, inarticulate sound at the back of my throat. “If you say so.”

  Erik grinned. “Thanks for lunch, but I need to be going.” He exchanged another glance with Cole, and when Cole nodded, he turned his focus back to me. “I’ll be back tomorrow night for our next session. In the meantime, there’s one very important thing you must do for me.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “You want me to have dinner waiting?” At this rate I wasn’t quite sure if the man was training me to orgasm or testing me as a potential personal chef.

  He chuckled and smoothed his knuckles down my bare spine. “Nothing that mundane. No, what I want is for you to promise me that you will not, under any circumstances, come without Cole’s express permission. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  I blinked, trying to figure out if he was putting me on. “I can’t come,” I blurted out. “You saw me. What kind of asshole—”

  “Shhh…” He placed a finger against my lips, cutting off the rest of my tirade. “Just promise me. From here on out, Cole controls your orgasms. You may come only when he instructs you or when he allows you to gain release. Understand?”

  I nodded, thoroughly miserable. I couldn’t even look into my husband’s eyes to see what he thought of all this. The sadness and disappointment I’d find there would mirror my own, and I could barely handle my emotions without breaking.

  “Great.” Erik bent and kissed my cheek, the gesture incredibly chaste, considering he’d had those lips on my cunt just minutes earlier. “See you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter Five

  I spotted Donna’s reflection in my computer monitor as she came around the corner and propped one shoulder against the wall of my cubicle. “So how was it?”

  I lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug but didn’t stop typing. I’d been transcribing notes from the last developers’ meeting all morning, which mostly consisted of trying to make sense of the lead programmer’s chicken scratches. We were surrounded by some of the most leading-edge technology in all of North America, and the guy still chose to take notes on a legal pad. In pencil.

  “Fine.” I didn’t turn around. She’d see the truth written all over my face if she got a good look at me.

  “That’s it?” She sounded disappointed. No doubt she’d been hoping for a blow-by-blow of the juicy details.

  Well, she wasn’t getting one. How could I explain Cole’s surprise for me? How could I explain Erik?

  “’Fraid so. I’m a dried-up, unimaginative ice maiden, remember?” I tried to sound flippant, and focused on deciphering a particularly messy bulleted list. These notes would become the basis of the next chapter in the user manual I had to write, so getting it right was paramount.

  “Hey now, that’s not fair.” Donna placed a hand on my shoulder. Since I still wouldn’t turn to face her, she came around my chair and propped a hip against the edge of my desk so she could look at me. “You’re none of those things, and you know it. What you need is practice.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks. Yesterday’s encounter with Erik and Cole had been playing over and over in my head for hours. I’d been picturing both men bent over my pussy while I brushed my teeth, as I drove to work and even while my manager cornered me to get a debrief on the conference. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Worse yet, I couldn’t stop feeling it. My pussy creamed every time I remembered Cole’s finger in my channel and Erik’s mouth on my clit.

  My entire body thrummed with arousal. Here. At work. Where it was inappropriate and entirely unwelcome. I gritted my teeth against the battering ram of lust that walloped me yet again and looked up at my friend.

  I forced a cheerful smile onto my features. “How was your weekend?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Something happened.”

  “Oh yeah?” I leaned back in my chair, relieved my sudden attempt to change the subject had worked. “What?”

  “To you, I mean. Something happened to you.” She observed me in that unnerving
way of hers. “You look different.”

  “I got some good sleep in my own bed. That must be it.”

  “Those bags under your eyes tell a different story.”

  I lifted my hand to my face and traced the area just above my right cheekbone as though I’d be able to feel the puffiness with my fingertips. Donna was right. I hadn’t slept well. In fact, I’d tossed and turned all night, replaying the entire afternoon over and over in my head while Cole slept soundly beside me. I’d thought about waking him, straddling his waist and lowering myself onto his thick cock, but I already knew how that attempt would end. He’d come inside me, flood me with his seed, while I once again failed to achieve climax. Then we would lie there beside each other and he’d offer to finish me off. I’d refuse, feeling like a complete and utter failure, and we would both stay awake for much too long until we finally drifted into an unsatisfying sleep an hour before the alarm was set to go off.

  I had thought, also, about slipping my hand between my legs and working my clit to achieve the release I so desperately craved. It seemed unlikely I’d be able to get anywhere near a climax, yet Erik’s parting words had made it clear Cole owned my orgasms, at least for the time being. I had to assume this was all part of the training. I still didn’t believe any man had the ability to pull off what Erik had promised, but if there was even a remote chance he could teach me to orgasm, I wasn’t messing it up by going against his instructions. I knew if I approached climax while I touched myself, I’d simply crest over the edge and wouldn’t wake Cole to ask for permission first.

  So I hadn’t done a damn thing about the desire that roared over me with such force. I thought it would ebb and eventually fade altogether. I’d never experienced anything like this altered state of arousal, and didn’t know how to handle the extreme awareness of my body’s lustful needs.

  “Did Cole have a surprise waiting for you?” Donna prodded. “Come on, you can’t leave me hanging.”

  I peered around me at the paper-thin walls of my cubicle that only reached up to my shoulders. Voices carried in this place, and if I said a word to Donna now, by lunchtime everyone from accounting to the legal department would be taking about the fact that my husband had brought another man into our home to teach me to orgasm.

  “Why don’t we go out for lunch?” I asked cheerfully. “The Thai place down the street?”

  She grinned. “You’re on. I can’t wait to hear this.”

  As soon as she left, I slumped in my chair. I rubbed my sore eyes and sighed, knowing I wasn’t ready to talk about Cole’s plan or Erik’s presence. Not even to Donna, and we’d shared some of the most intimate details of our lives with one another over the years.

  I hadn’t come to terms with the way I felt about Cole’s plan yet, and I didn’t want to hear Donna’s take on the situation either. I was sure I could come up with a way to get out of our lunch date. A last-minute meeting or a deadline that had been pushed up should do the trick. She would be disappointed, but I was an expert at dealing with that. I had been disappointing people for decades.

  I turned my attention back to the scribbled notes in front of me. My fingers flew over the keyboard but the words I typed weren’t registering. I kept flashing back to yesterday afternoon, to the way Cole’s lips had moved so carefully around my piercings. They were still healing, and both men had known to stay away from my tender nipples. And yet I’d sucked in a breath, willing them both to play with the metal rings, to tug and pull, to elicit that sweet ache I had experienced at True Tattoo.

  I pulled my hands away from the keyboard. What was wrong with me? I’d had two men pleasuring me, their attention focused solely on my cunt, yet all I’d wanted was a sudden sharp yank on my newly pierced nipples. I’d craved roughness and strength and pain.

  I pushed my chair away from my desk, grabbed my purse and stumbled out of my cubicle. I managed to smile politely at the receptionist as I stormed out the office door and into the hallway. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Cole’s number, frantically trying to come up with the right words to say when he picked up.

  Hi sweetheart. I’m afraid I’ll go insane if I don’t have an orgasm. May I please be allowed to touch myself until I come?

  I was spared the humiliation of having to blurt that out by getting his voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. Instead, I composed a text. After running through a couple of variations I couldn’t even bring myself to type—I really need to come and Pretty please let me have an orgasm—I settled on something much simpler and less mortifying.

  May I?

  After hitting the button to send the text, I headed straight for the bathroom. To my relief, it was empty. I chose the stall farthest from the door and locked myself in, then leaned against the wall as my body quivered with need.

  I had worn a maxi-length skirt and a white blouse to work, my standard attire most days. My piercings were tucked out of sight behind a cotton bra with full cup coverage. Matching, boring white panties covered my cunt but I could smell my dampness, my arousal, and wondered whether anyone else could too.

  Embarrassment flooded my face. I needed relief, badly. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t work, couldn’t think in this state.

  I glanced at my cell. No reply from Cole. I set the phone down on top of the toilet paper dispenser, where I could see it the moment it lit up.

  Clenching my teeth, I tugged the hem of my skirt up and slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. My fingers met matted curls and wetness, and I shuddered at the touch. My cream coated the fabric of my panties, slick and dense. I smeared some around my clit and bit down on my lower lip to keep from moaning.

  I had been able to climax from touching myself at one point, but that seemed like such a long time ago. I’d still been living at home, discovering my sexuality by slowly exploring my body with my hands. I’d come so easily back then, so quickly and effortlessly. I hadn’t realized what a gift that was, and how spectacularly fleeting.

  I bent over at the waist and pressed my index and middle fingers against my clit. I rubbed furiously, with a fierce intensity that had my wrist moving feverishly from side to side. It felt pleasant, but the arousal coiled in my stomach remained strong and steady, rather than cresting.

  And the screen of my phone remained dark.

  Frustration welled up inside me. Screw it.

  I shoved my panties down and let them slide to my ankles. Leaning against the wall, I spread my legs and brought my hand to my cunt then inserted two fingers inside my channel. They slid in easily, their passage smoothed by all my cream, so I added a third. I pumped the fingers in and out of my entrance as I stroked my clit. The answering tug in my core flared sharply, and for a moment I held my breath and hoped this was it.

  It wasn’t.

  I nearly sobbed as I withdrew my fingers from my cunt. My body shuddered and my muscles tensed. Arousal had me teetering on the edge of despair. Rather than gaining a reprieve, I had only managed to work myself up into a mindless lust from which there was no relief.

  I straightened and brought my fingers to my mouth. Tentatively, I licked my index finger. The sweet and slightly musky flavor flooded my tongue, which sent another jolt of heat through my veins. I’d never tasted myself before. I rather liked it.

  Leaning my head against the wall, I closed my eyes. I was experiencing all kinds of things for the first time these days, and I found myself both craving and dreading what came next.

  It took me a long time to straighten my clothes. Longer still to come out of the stall. I washed my hands slowly, then ran my wet fingers through my waist-length black hair and faced my reflection in the mirror. The circles under my eyes were worse than I’d thought. I looked exhausted, yet my brown eyes sparkled with intensity and hunger I barely recognized as my own.

  The cell buzzed as I was walking out of the bathroom. My heart picked up speed. A one-word reply from Cole flashed across the screen.

  No.

  Chapter Six

  I was seething b
y the time I got home.

  How dare Cole deny me what I needed most? He had to know how desperately I wanted to orgasm, both with him and on my own. I’d had an opportunity this morning in the bathroom to do just that, and he’d refused to give me the pleasure I so badly craved. He’d had no idea I’d already tried and failed. Yet he’d denied me anyway, and I couldn’t understand why he would be so cruel.

  I tossed my purse and keys on the narrow table I kept by the front door and toed off my shoes. Anger swirled in my veins, melding with the desire that hadn’t faded at all as the day wore on.

  “Cole?” I called out loud enough so he’d hear me if he was upstairs. I didn’t want to wait to confront him. I had been running through the inevitable fight we’d have as I drove home from work, and I’d damn near memorized my part of the dialogue. I wanted to get this over with before I forgot some of the more creative turns of phrase I’d planned to use.

  Footsteps thudded up the stairs from the basement. I braced myself, preparing to turn the full force of my ire onto Cole.

  “I can’t believe you’d be so unfair. You know how much—”

  The words died in my throat as Erik rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of me. He wore another pair of leather pants, these ones brown instead of black, and once again his chest was bare. My gaze flicked down to his hands before I could catch myself. No whip.

  “Strip.”

  I gaped at him, but the authority in his voice left little room for argument.

  “Where’s Cole?” A shiver of trepidation ran down my spine. Cole would have had to let Erik in. I couldn’t imagine my husband giving this man a key, and with it the freedom to come and go as he pleased.

  “Strip,” he said again, slower this time, as though my lack of comprehension was the reason I hadn’t yet done as he’d commanded. The slight flare of his nostrils told me he didn’t like having to repeat himself, and probably wouldn’t take kindly to doing it again.