If only

“Missed one.” Vance pushed her down and pulled another strap across the top of her forehead so she couldn’t lift her head. Couldn’t move at all. Feeling more immobilized than she’d ever experienced, she couldn’t keep from squirming. From attempting to get free.

Her body understood she was caught—trapped—and the table beneath her seemed to shake.

Vance’s mouth tipped up. “Now that’s just pretty,” he said before giving her an easy kiss. “She’s ready, pard.”

Both Doms walked around the table, tugging and checking the straps.

“Numbness, tingling? Cold?” Galen asked, his New England accent broadening his deep baritone.

Her attempt to shake her head got nowhere and set up an instinctive flutter in the pit of her stomach.

Vance’s smile increased at whatever he saw in her face. Although he seemed more easygoing than Galen, the depths in his dark blue eyes were disturbing.

“Well?” Galen prompted, pulling her attention to him.

“No, Sir,” she whispered, then scowled. Where oh where, has my backbone gone? “I’m really quite fine, thank you, Master Galen. And how are you today?”

“You going to chatter the way you do for other Doms?” Galen asked.

“Of course.”

He pulled a leather strip from their toy bag and tossed it to Vance. “Gag her.”

“Hey, I don’t like gags.” She started to struggle. What if she needed to talk?

Galen took out two small rubber balls and squeezed them to make them squeak. “These are if you need to safeword.” He tucked one into her left hand, then the right. “Show me you can use them.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She made the balls squeak and continued until they sounded as if someone was murdering a flock of baby birds.

“Sally.” Just one word in Galen’s bottomless voice and Sally couldn’t force her fingers to continue. Even though the squeaky toys went silent, her pulse made waves of sound in her head.

“Open, sweetheart.” Vance lifted the leather strip, snorted when her mouth clamped shut, then pressed a spot on the hinges of her jaw to open it. As he pushed the gag in and strapped it on, her hand closed convulsively on a rubber ball, getting a high squeak.

Vance leaned a forearm beside her and smiled down, his light brown hair falling over his forehead. “Too tight?”

“Umh.”

“You are so cute.” His grin was devastatingly handsome and totally scary because he didn’t appear concerned about her answer at all. “One blink is yes. No blink means no. Is the gag too tight?”

Everything in her yelled for her to blink, but the straps weren’t uncomfortable. What scared her was their lack of concern for what she wanted or what she thought. They’d just shut her right up. She glowered.

His smile widened. “We pissed off a submissive, Galen,” he said.

“Oh, damn.” The amusement in Galen’s response made Sally want to hit him. He rested his hand against the side of her face. “We’re not going to hurt you, pet. Not even going to touch your pussy. We’ll play with you some and release you.”

Her muscles untensed…slightly. But why hadn’t he explained earlier? Her eyes narrowed.

“Why didn’t I tell you before?” Galen drew a finger over her cheek and around her ear. She saw no mercy in his face. “I didn’t want to.”

His voice wasn’t cruel…just matter-of-fact. They’d do what they wanted. She knew they weren’t careless like some Doms, but they were dominant, no ifs, ands, or buts. Why was the knowledge so very exciting?

With a faint smile, Galen moved down to the end of the table and grasped her left foot. Rubbing, massaging with firm hands.

Oh God, it felt good. Her feet always hurt after a couple of hours of going barefoot. She couldn’t keep back the sigh of pleasure.

As Galen continued, something brushed her stomach and moved slowly toward her breasts. Her eyes popped open.

Leaning on one arm, Vance trailed a finger across her belly, just above the waist strap. Making circles. Crosses. Each movement brought his touch higher on her body. His face wasn’t—wasn’t excited or filled with lust. He was simply amusing himself.

His light touch on her belly was so different from Galen’s strong hands on her foot that she felt… confused.

Galen switched to her other leg, and oh God, she might die from the pleasure. Why were they being sweet to her?

Before she could settle into enjoying Galen’s ministrations, Vance ran a finger along the extremely sensitive underside of her breast. Her back tried to arch—the straps kept her flat. Jeez.

She looked up to see him studying her face, reading her every little twitch. Undoubtedly mentally marking that area as one “of interest.” His finger circled her left breast, then her right.

She stared back. He was just plain gorgeous, his size and big nose keeping him from being too pretty, but otherwise, he’d take the lead in the hottie category. The laughter lines fanning out from his eyes contrasted with the square jaw and firm lips that warned he could be a very, very dangerous man.

She felt her nipples contract as he spiraled in toward the aching peaks.

Then Galen massaged her calf, hard enough to hurt. Taking his time. When he finally moved to her left calf, the right was gloriously limp and happy.

Vance’s fingers closed on her left nipple, teasing and sweet, and her clit began to tingle. Galen said he wouldn’t play with her pussy, but her body wanted sex. Now.

Vance moved down to her legs.

Galen took his place. He cupped her breasts and pinched one nipple. Controlled but hard. Her back tried again to arch. Electricity sizzled straight to her core.

With her legs roped together, Vance’s confident hands stroking up and down the front of her thighs were tantalizing her aroused clit.

Wetness seeped into her briefs. Like a drug, lust pulsed in her bloodstream. What were they doing to her?

Galen switched to her right breast, and the cruel pinch was a shocking contrast to Vance’s easy massage. He rolled her nipples, one and then the other, relentlessly enough to make her squirm and test her straps. Nothing gave.

She made a garbled sound through her gag.

Galen’s smile flashed white, transforming his stern face into sheer sexiness and increasing her nervousness. She couldn’t fall back on sarcasm. Had been completely silenced. A shiver shook her as the last lingering hope of manipulating them disappeared.

“That’s the girl,” Galen murmured. “Give it up.” He closed his hands on her breasts, massaging powerfully enough to approach pain, and she felt her tissues swelling, tightening the skin, increasing the sensitivity.

Vance had reached the tops of her thighs and skimmed his palms upward past her pussy on each side to stroke over her briefs on her mound.

Her clit begged to be touched—and the instinctive effort to open her legs failed. The ropes kept them pressed firmly together. A crease flickered in Vance’s cheek as he ran his finger next to the strap crossing her belly, then glided back to her pelvis.

Her body tensed—oh please, touch lower—and then Galen’s hand curved around her throat. Not pressing, just there…yet a very palpable threat. Her gaze shot to his unreadable face. His eyes were fixed on her.

Vance scraped his fingernails along the top of her low-cut briefs, on her tender belly. The skin tingled in his wake.

“Pretty Sally,” Galen murmured, “can’t move, can’t yell.” His lips curved slightly. “Can’t come.” His hand still rested ever so gently on her throat in an unstated threat.

He kissed her cheek, his lips grazing her jaw, along her neck. His scent was spicy with a subtle richness, and she breathed him in.

Vance licked over her left nipple.