If only

her? I want… Her eyes filled as she tried to say the words. Why was it harder when she was so…so needy?

He made a sound low in his throat and pulled her on top of him, hugging her closely. “Just ask, Sally. You know I want to give you what you need.”

A tear splattered on his chest as she heard her father whispering, like the echoes in a cave. “…always asking for things you don’t need.”

As a tremor shook her, Galen sat down beside her shoulder and turned her to his intent gaze. “Who are you hearing, Sally?”

“Father.”

“Ah. That’s a good baby girl for telling me,” he said. His thumb stroked her cheek.

Vance tightened his arms, and his heart was steady and sure under her ear. “He sure didn’t like you asking for things. What exactly did he say, pet? You’re hearing it—tell us now.”

She whispered his words, “‘Stupid, selfish girl. Always asking for stuff. Who will you kill this time, huh?’”

“He really is a son of a bitch,” Vance muttered. The words rumbled through the solid wall of muscle under her cheek. “Accidents happen, sweetheart,” Vance said, somehow shaking her without moving. “You aren’t in charge of the universe. And if you start playing the ‘if only’ game, you’ll never win. Listen: If only Sally hadn’t asked for a dress. If only your father had been generous enough to give you nice clothes so you didn’t need more. If only your mother had been paying more attention. If only the tires hadn’t been bald.”

She blinked. “How did you know about the tires?”

“Just guessed. He sounds like a tight-fisted bastard.”

Something inside her relaxed. Not much, but a little. They didn’t blame her. And Vance was still holding her.

Galen’s eyes were steady. Honest. “You are a beautiful, intelligent, sweet woman, Sally. If your father can’t see that, it’s his failing, because everyone else can. Wherever your mother is, I’m sure she’s very, very proud of you.”

Tears spilled over and ran down her face. “I-I…” The look on Galen’s hard face was more than affection, and the warmth emanating from him surrounded her heart. She rose up enough to look down at Vance, and his eyes held the same…caring.

Not love. Mustn’t love them.

I love them. She licked her lips, trying to find the words.

And Galen slid off the bed.

Moment lost. Her arms gave out, dropping her back down on Vance. With a sigh, she rubbed her cheek against the springy hair on his chest.

He didn’t speak, simply stroked her back, his hands sure and strong and comforting. Whatever happened in the world, this man would be as steady as the cliffs over the ocean, shedding the fury of a storm as if it were nothing.

Galen reappeared with a glass of water. “Sit up for a minute, pet.” He lifted her off Vance, helped her sit, and curled her fingers around the glass.

She sipped slowly, feeling more herself. Damn them for being so darned persistent with their emotion probing.

Behind her, Vance sat up, putting one hand behind her back. He reached around with his other hand to play with her breasts.

Her sore nipples peaked immediately, sending a buzz of hunger straight to her clit. She wiggled and pushed his hand away.

Galen gripped her chin. “What are you doing?”

Oh God. Her bones turned to pudding under his level, merciless gaze. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Good answer,” Vance said and took advantage of her immobility by using both hands, cupping her breasts, warming them for a moment, kneading gently before pinching her nipples, sending her remorselessly back into need.

Galen didn’t release her, simply held her gaze, a slight smile on his face. And the intensity of his attention, the way he secured her with both physical and invisible bonds for his partner’s pleasure was the most erotic sensation she’d ever felt.

When Vance ran his hand down her stomach, she knew she was even wetter than she had been before. Her back arched the second he touched her throbbing, swollen clit.

A tiny touch. Another. God, if—

He removed his hand.

She made a sound.

“That’s right. You have to ask us to continue, remember? Otherwise, we’ll go watch television,” Galen said gently, but she heard the unrelenting tone. They’d hold her and comfort her…yet make her do what they wanted.

“C’mon, sweetie. Let’s hear it.” Vance’s chest pressed against her from behind, his voice a grumble in her ear.

“I need—”No, not like that. “Will you—” Her father’s voice echoed inside her.

“My voice. Vance’s voice.” Galen squeezed her chin, the bite of pain snapping the ties of the past. “That’s all you hear. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” came out automatically, but the past had gone. Maybe all that homework had helped because once she started, the words came readily enough. “Can we continue? Please?”

Galen actually smiled at her, his deep voice rich with approval. “Very, very good, Sally.”

And Vance echoed his words in a sweet stereo effect.

ANGER SMOLDERED IN Galen’s gut. Next time he met Sally’s father, he’d give the bastard a few lessons in how to treat a daughter. And then he’d hand him over to Vance, who had just as much rage. But this wasn’t the time.

Right now, Sally was trembling with anticipation, flushed and beautiful, and Galen wanted to take her that extra step further into submission. She was ready.

He glanced at Vance. “My requirements are that she lay on her back, ass on a pillow, legs out of my way. Otherwise she’s all yours.”

His partner grinned, studying the bed and Sally, obviously formulating his plan for restraints.

The imp’s eyes were wide.

He ran his finger down her cheek. “This might be uncomfortable, but if it really hurts, I’ll stop.”

The questions—and worry—in her eyes added spice to the scene.

After clipping her wrist cuffs to ropes on the sturdy iron headboard, Vance took a minute to suck her nipples until they stood up, distended and dark red.

Her pleasingly round ass was already squirming. By God, she responded beautifully.

While Vance worked the restraints, Galen checked his fingernails—already clipped as short as possible— washed his hands, and donned a long surgical glove on his left hand.

Vance had put a wide leather belt around her waist and with rope, secured each knee to the belt at her sides. “Ready for you, pard.”

Ass high, knees up and out, arms restrained. “Perfect.” He looked at Sally. “Your safe word is red. But for this, I will be talking to you. No will be the same as yellow. I’ll stop and check how you’re doing. Clear?”

He was sadist enough to enjoy the way apprehension creased her forehead.

After propping a pump-action bottle of lube against her hip, Galen settled himself on one elbow perpendicular to her position.

Slowly he explored her entrance before inserting a finger. Her cunt clenched down on him, making him smile. He pulled out and teased her clit until she squirmed. Two fingers. Play for a bit. Three fingers.

Vance was caressing her breasts, kissing her mouth, her neck.