Her brain spun and threw her thoughts into disarray. Gentle and painful, sweet and cruel.
Her breasts ached; her pussy throbbed. Burning. Needing. Vance nibbled lightly on her bare shoulder and down her inner arm. His lips were warm, firm, and velvety contrasting with the slight scrape of his five-o’clock shadow.
Galen lightly bit her right nipple, sending a wildfire of sensation to her clit.
As Vance pressed a kiss into her palm, Galen licked each peak, leaving them wet.
Vance’s lips closed around her thumb. He sucked lightly…and it felt as if he were sucking on her clit. Her thigh muscles tensed as if she could draw him to the ball of nerves.
He moved to her index finger. And sucked.
Galen blew air on her nipples, turning them impossibly tight, then nibbled each one. Rougher, his bites harder, until she was at the whimpering edge of pain—making her want, want, want.
When he straightened, her breasts were almost painfully swollen. “Look at me, pet.”
Her eyelids drooped as she obeyed. Her body felt cocooned in sensation.
His eyes were black without a glimmer of light as he stared at her, absently caressing her breasts. His doll to play with.
Vance rested his palm, then his weight on her mound, creating a growing sense of needy pressure.
Her body thrummed with arousal, begging for more. Begging that they make her come. She managed to drag her gaze from Galen’s, only to be caught by Vance’s burning blue eyes. The table seemed to drop a foot.
Nothing existed except Vance’s eyes and his hand on her mound, the heat swirling around her body, Galen’s demanding touch on her breasts. Her breathing slowed…the entire world seemed to halt in its spinning.
GALEN SMILED AS Sally’s eyes glazed and the tension drained out of her sweet little body. Now, wasn’t she just a responsive little thing? She’d been as much fun to play with as he’d always imagined.
Definitely a mouthy submissive—enough to annoy some Doms. Not him though. A bit of sass, if it was intelligent sass, could liven up any scene.
But this one had more to her. She hid her caring nature, but he’d seen her looking after the newer submissives as often as she’d created havoc at other times.
He glanced at Vance, enjoying the way his partner kept the girl locked tight in his gaze.
Letting the moment unwind, Galen idly caressed her nicely swollen and beautifully taut nipples. Be a pleasure to have her in his lap in the evenings, having these to play with while he watched television. With her hair down, her breasts would be covered in a waterfall of rich brown silk.
After a bit, Vance broke off, leaving Sally blinking and obviously trying to find her way back to reality. He gave Galen a quick grin as the sub pulled in a shuddering breath.
Galen sighed and moved his hands. For months, they’d watched the little sprite. Never silent, never modest. She didn’t submit gracefully. Both he and Vance had wanted to take her on. Nothing serious—they didn’t do serious—but just for the challenge.
Now they had her, and he was tempted to drag those briefs off her and take her in every way two men could enjoy a woman. But that wasn’t what she needed right now. Might not be what she needed for a while. She’d been gone for well over a month, and the girl wasn’t the same. Her bubbling enthusiasm had disappeared, and he felt the absence like an ache inside him. What had happened to flatten her—and put a wounded expression in her eyes?
But this wasn’t the time to explore such things. She’d never done a scene with them before. Didn’t really know them. So they’d keep this to merely a short, sensuous session.
He took a baby wipe from the toy bag, removed her gag, and cleaned her face off.
Her liquid brown eyes focused on him, a slight wrinkle between her brows. Confused, was she? Excellent.
Her upper lip was slightly shorter than average, curving into a bowed shape.
And then she gave so generously to his demand, to his tongue, that his cock stiffened to actual pain. A woman’s kiss revealed much about her, and Sally’s was teasing. A bit impertinent. And fucking
Hell, he wanted her. Badly.
She stared up at him, and her wide eyes held a hint of worry. As if she’d given him more than she wanted. Her lack of sass was amazing.
“Tell me how you feel,” he said, not revealing what he knew—that she was very, very aroused.
She swallowed. “I feel good.” Her voice came out husky, as if she’d already climaxed. The sound definitely didn’t decrease his discomfort. She shook her head, and he watched reality snap back in.
Time to stop. One by one, he and Vance removed her restraints, then helped her sit up.
He closed his fingers over her shoulder and steadied her. Under his hand, her skin was warm and slightly damp. And incredibly soft. Contrasting with her golden tan, her creamy white breasts seemed to beg for his touch again.
But no.
She looked around, glanced up at Vance and him, and frowned. As if Little Miss Know-It-All didn’t know what to do. So she attempted to push off the table.
Vance grabbed her arm. “Stay put, sweetie.”
Apparently, if she was at a loss, she’d retreat. Galen curved his hand around the back of her head, needing to use some pressure to force her to face him. Damn, he loved the way she tried to resist. “Want to tell us what’s been bothering you?”
She stiffened, then shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
Bullshit. He heard Vance’s annoyed growl. Holding her gaze, Galen said, “You’re a shitty liar, pet.”
She tried to pull back, got nowhere. Her rounded jaw set. “Okay, I’ll just say it’s none of your business.”
But he had a craving to do just that.
Hearing footsteps in the quiet house, Vance turned to see his partner detour around a stack of paint cans and rollers in the unfinished dining room and limp into the kitchen. The work on remodeling their place had turned the floor into an obstacle course. But they’d almost finished the kitchen, at least, and done a hell of a job.
Seeing the weariness on Galen’s face, Vance shoved the package of cream-filled cookies across the marble-topped island. “Have something to eat.”
“Good plan.” With obvious stiffness, Galen eased onto a black leather-covered bar chair at the island.
Vance frowned. Their case was getting tougher to put down, and after they’d returned home from the Shadowlands, the idiot had worked for another hour in the office. “Leg hurting?”
“Some.”
That much of an admission meant it hurt like hell. Vance retrieved the ibuprofen from a cupboard, shook out a couple of tablets, and handed them to Galen with some water.
“Thank you, Mom,” Galen said sourly but drank the pills down before taking a cookie.
Vance rewarded him with a Johnny Walker Black and soda, and then poured himself a shot of vodka. “Bad day.”
With his leg resting on one of the backless stools, Galen leaned an elbow onto the island, glass in his hand. “Till this evening.” His lips curved. “Pretty little bit, wasn’t she?”
Vance grinned back. “She made it difficult to stop.” He took a sip, letting the Russian Standard slide down his throat. “Didn’t have her usual perkiness though.” Odd how much that had bothered him, but a subdued Sally
