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The perfect kind of pain	By : mermaidnz Category: S through Z > White Collar Views: 4672 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The perfect kind of pain
- 1
El loves having her breasts sucked, bitten, and marked.
She's tried explaining it to Peter, without much success. He likes having his own nipples stroked or licked, sure, but they're not very sensitive. Neal's got the opposite problem, meaning that even the thought of prolonged nipple play makes him wince. So neither of them can quite appreciate the exquisite pained pleasure El experiences – and they certainly don’t get why having sore, hypersensitive breasts the next day puts a spring in her step.
Still, her lovers know what she wants and know just how to give it to her.
She's lying on her back in the middle of their big bed, naked, her head propped up on the pillows. Peter is lying on his belly to her left, and Neal is mirroring his position to her right. A few minutes ago, Peter was sitting up against the wrought iron headboard with his head thrown back and Neal was riding him, gripping the bed frame with white-knuckled hands. Post-orgasmic lethargy is setting in for both of them, but they don't get to sleep until she's had her turn. El came twice already tonight, hand busy between her legs as she watched her husband fuck their boyfriend. But she's feeling greedy, and she wants more.
So Neal and Peter are now devoting all their attention to her breasts.
Sometimes they'll do this first, after everyone's clothes come off but before anyone gets fucked. Her boys will start slow on those occasions, teasing her so deliciously: smoothing their hands across her chest, cupping her breasts, thumbing across the rose-pink tips which harden and darken under their touch. Even with her eyes closed, she can tell them apart. Peter's hands are bigger, his skin rougher, while Neal's are smaller and softer but still strong. Their fingers will squeeze and twist and pull on her nipples, until she's gasping and moaning and demanding to feel their mouths on her, God, now. And then they'll move on to the really fun part.
But tonight, it's straight in at the deep end.
El's two lovers are very different men, with very different styles. Peter dives in wholeheartedly, covering her left nipple with his mouth and sucking it in deeply and rhythmically. That simple, repetitive movement sends jolts of sizzling electricity to her clit. His hands are warm and steady, one holding her breast against his lips and the other resting on her belly. Peter won't stray further south, not until she gives permission, but he's circling her navel with his thumb like a holding pattern. He's so keen to give her pleasure, even if it's in a masochistic form he can't understand.
Peter's devotion to her is palpable, his love soaking into her skin, and El rests a trembling hand on the nape of his neck and tells him how good he makes her feel.
Neal loves her too, more than she could ever have imagined, but he's still learning about what she enjoys. Ever the perfectionist artist, he studies El's body and its reactions as if he'll be painting her from memory later. Right now he's using his thumb and forefinger like a nipple clamp, and feathering his tongue across the trapped tip the same way he licks at her clit. Neal watches her face and she watches his mouth, until he runs his teeth slowly across her nipple and she has to close her eyes against the tingling pain. Then he bites, carefully but deliberately, and she throws her head back and moans long and loud.
What Neal's doing is such a contrast to what Peter's doing, and the combination is so fucking incredible.
Peter sucks at her and Neal bites at her, and El wishes she could come just like this. She's so wet already, her clit throbbing, her inner muscles clenching, but she needs direct stimulation. Luckily, her beautiful boys are excellent at taking instruction. So when she says "outside, fast" to Peter and "inside, deep" to Neal, they immediately obey. Peter's hand unerringly finds her clit, and rubs it rapidly from side to side just the way she likes. And Neal slides two fingers into her with ease, smoothly fucking in and out and hitting her G-spot with every thrust.
She can hardly bear how good it all feels, the pressure sweet-sharp above and slick-hot below...within seconds, she's almost there.
"Now, both of you: pull," El commands, so Peter stops his regular sucking and Neal stops his irregular biting. Each of her lovers wraps his lips around a nipple and then lifts his head up, applying powerful continuous suction to her breasts. Being stretched and over-stimulated like this is the ultimate rush, and El cries out as her orgasm hits. Their fingers keep working at her clit and G-spot, and she shudders all over as the flood of sensation goes on and on.
When she opens her eyes, her boys are kissing each other across her quivering body; they hear her sigh happily and turn to her, pupils blown and lips swollen, and Peter says, "May we give you another one?"
El smiles at them, both so delightfully eager to please her, then looks down at her sweat-sheened, flushed breasts. Her nipples are hard and wet, dark pink with pinpricks of red from all the abuse they've endured tonight. God, it's a beautiful sight. It already hurts, but still not quite enough. "Yes," she breathes, "and be sure to mark me some more. Neal, use your nails. Peter, use your mouth." Peter starts stroking her clit again, instantly setting another orgasm simmering inside her, and takes her left nipple between his teeth. Neal pulls out of her, lifting his fingers to her lips so she can suck her own taste off them, then moves to kneel beside her. He squeezes her right breast, fingernails digging into the skin, and pinches sharply at her nipple.
It's searing pain, it's soaring pleasure, it's all mixed up in her head and her body...there are tears in her eyes and curses on her lips, and El never wants it to end.
Neal kisses her, then, hard and demanding. She twists her fingers in his hair, holding him close, and groans as his nails clamp vise-tight around her nipple. Peter speeds up in response, rubbing her clit more roughly, and starts sucking a bruise into the delicate skin of her breast. El reaches the overload point she's been seeking, her mind awash with sizzling sensation, and just the thought of what that mark will look like tomorrow sends her over the edge again. She keens into Neal's mouth and bucks against Peter's hand, trapped between them and utterly loving it, as she rides the last wave of her climax.
Sated, sweaty, exhausted, and – in El's case – bruised and bitten and aching, the three of them lie there, breathing hard; "Oh, my lovely boys," she murmurs as Peter and Neal bracket her with their bodies and gently kiss her skin, "you are so very good to me."
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The perfect kind of pain