If only

Chapter Seven

After showering and dressing, Galen checked the guest room.

Still buried in covers, Sally’s body was a rigid stillness, indicating she was awake. He wanted to talk to her, to know she was all right, but he’d promised her the time to stew. He’d give her a few more minutes.

In the kitchen, Vance sat at the long granite-topped island with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. “Morning. You taking the day off too?”

“Seems like a good plan.” Galen had put in so much overtime he felt no guilt at taking a few hours back. “Think she’d let us send a cleaning service to her place?” He poured a cup of coffee, added cream and sugar, then snagged the discarded front page before settling onto one of the wider counter-height chairs.

“Doubt it. She’d probably consider it either an invasion of her privacy or her rights or something.”

“Stubborn little thing, isn’t she?” And the way she’d lingered in his mind since she’d safeworded and stormed out of the Shadowlands was worrisome. He’d never had a problem dismissing a submissive before, never had one keep him awake. Not since his wife had died.

“Too stubborn. After what she went through, she should have been bawling her heart out.”

Galen glanced toward the stairs at the sound of the shower coming on. “She’ll have another chance to weep—it’s your turn to cook.”

Vance didn’t grant the insult a reply, but returned to reading the paper.

As Galen took the last sip of coffee, Sally limped into the kitchen. She’d donned the jeans and soft pink T-shirt he’d brought from her apartment and left for her on the bathroom counter. The shirt had been folded, and he hadn’t seen the front. A robot-like Dalek from Dr. Who was saying: Exterminate All Males.

Christ. He grinned. She really was one of the most interesting women he’d met in a long, long time.

But seeing the scabbed purple bruise on her left cheek wiped out his smile. Be a pleasure to rip the bastard’s balls off and stuff them down his filthy mouth and… With an effort, Galen tamped his fury down. The imp needed cuddling today more than anger. “Crutches?”

“The doc said I can abandon them if I keep the ankle brace on.”

Her wet hair lay in tangles halfway down her back. No makeup. Barefoot. She looked far too young for either him or Vance, but her Shadowlands records gave her age as twenty-six. That meant she’d probably worked for a couple of years before entering the Master’s program.

Part of the impression of youth was how awkwardly she was holding her body and the absence of her cocky self-confidence. His every instinct shouted for him to fix her—her hurts, her problems—and he didn’t even know where to start.

“Hungry?” Vance’s eyes narrowed as he undoubtedly picked up on her defensive posture.

“No.” She bit her lip. “I mean, yes, but first…I’d like to talk.”

“Of course,” Vance said easily. He pushed a chair out from the island with his foot. “What’s up?”

Rather than sitting, she stood behind the chair, her hands gripping the leather-covered back as if it might attack her. “I was thinking.”

Ayuh, she’d been stewing. “Go on,” Galen said. Now they’d hear about Borup and the attack.

“You said I don’t share. Or ask for what I need.” Her gaze dropped to her hands.

She wasn’t talking about the bastard, after all. And she normally looked a Dom straight in the eyes. What was bothering her? “Were we wrong, pet?”

“No.” She swallowed, and her fingers turned white-knuckled. “I hadn’t realized that. It’s a problem I didn’t…”

“You didn’t realize you avoid talking about your feelings?” Vance summarized.

She nodded. “But I’m trying”—she gave them an unhappy look—“and it’s so hard.”

She was breaking his heart. Galen patted his thighs, wanting to feel her as well as hear her. And face it, he needed to give some comfort if that was the only fucking thing he could offer. “Come here.”

When she walked to him, he pulled her stiff little body onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Slowly she relaxed against his chest, and that much trust from her after yesterday was the sweetest of compliments.

His glance at Vance got a nod that left the direction of the conversation to Galen. So he kissed her temple. “Now tell us what you need.”

“I don’t know how to fix this problem. To ask. Or share what I’m feeling.” Her head was down, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vance leaned forward and rested his elbows on the island. “You want us to help?”

She gave an infinitesimal nod.

“Look at me.” Vance waited until Sally lifted her head. “Now, ask.”

Her body stiffened again.

Warm, fresh from the shower, soft in all the right places, and so fucking scared. “Go on,” he prompted.

GOD, WHY WAS this so difficult? Sally felt as if her body had turned to granite. Her hands were cold in spite of the comfort of Galen’s arms around her. But I can do this.

“Help me?” she whispered.

Galen’s arms tightened. “Good girl,” he murmured against her hair.

“Of course we will.” Vance’s devastating smile made her heart skip a beat. “Brave girl for taking the first step.”

She closed her eyes for a moment; their approval soaked into her like the sun’s warmth on a bitter cold day.

Galen chuckled. “And now you feel as if you just ran a mile?”

“More like ten,” she muttered. Christ on a crutch, that had been just one tiny request.

Vance rose and cupped her chin, tipping up her face. His shrewd eyes were a knife blade penetrating straight to her soul. “I need to know why you have such a problem, Sally, but that can wait a bit.”

Oh, thank you, God.

“For now, your job is to try to tell us what you need when you need it.”

And that was supposed to be easier?

Vance waited until she nodded against his hand, and then released her.

“In addition, you’ll honestly share what you feel if asked,” Galen added. “Be warned, pet. I’ll question you often.”

Did she really want to do this? But she did. In all these years, she hadn’t found her own Dom. What if it wasn’t the Doms who were lacking? What if it was her? “I’ll try.”

“That’s all we ask, sweetheart.”

With Vance’s smile, her trembling slowed.

Thinking they were done, she tried to stand.

“Not yet.” Galen tightened his arm around her waist, holding her on his lap as he massaged the stiffness from her shoulders. His firm hand ran down her arm. Tugged on her damp hair. Curved around her nape.

As she leaned her head against his shoulder, she realized he was petting her in the same way she’d comforted frightened barn kittens. When he nestled her closer, she softened into him and fell into a contented haze, letting him do whatever he wanted to do.

Next life, she wanted to be a cat.

“That’s better,” he said eventually. After giving her a light kiss, he set her on her feet. “Although I’d enjoy holding you longer, you need some food.”

“Pancakes or eggs?” Vance asked. He rose and pulled a skillet from the cupboard.

Sally stood in place, confused. Frank had always made her cook. “Um. I can cook.”

“You will, sooner or later. Everyone helps in this house. So…?” Vance raised his eyebrows.

A sugar rush would be wonderful. She’d worry about the calories later. “Pancakes.”

“Done.”

Something brushed against her leg, and she squeaked and jumped a foot, almost losing her balance. Trying to ignore the throbbing of her ankle, she looked down.

An annoyed steel-gray cat stared at her with yellow-green eyes.

Galen laughed, and the deep, resonant sound had her mouth curving up. Had she ever heard him really laugh before? “Glock rules the house. Are you bothered by cats?”

“No.” Sally bent and held a finger out. The cat craned his neck in a long sniff, then curved to bump his head against Sally’s hand. His fur was short and thick, completely gray except for a slightly paler stripe from the top of his head to his nose. “Oh, you’re so soft,” Sally crooned. “So sweet.”

“He was here when we arrived. Half-starved,” Vance said. “Using a broken window in the cabana for his personal entry.”

“He’s sure not half-starved now.” Hurting in too many places to remain standing, Sally eased herself onto the tile floor with only one tiny grunt of pain. Then, she happily gathered the solid, purring body into her arms. Oh yes.

When Sally looked up, she realized she’d leaned her shoulder against Galen’s legs.

Elbow on the island top, he’d rested his chin on his palm, a finger stroking his lips as he studied her. His black eyes had softened. “Like cats, do you?”

As Glock rubbed his head against her cheek, Sally pulled in a shaky breath. “I miss having pets.” They loved her, never let her down, never turned their—

“What are you thinking?” His question jerked her out of her memories.

“I—nothing.”

“Try again, pet.” Galen’s voice was even, firm. The command of a Dom.

She’d already screwed up—the very first time she’d been asked a question. She stiffened, waiting for the sarcasm, the coldness.

Vance continued cooking.

Galen hadn’t moved. He didn’t appear angry or even upset. He was just…waiting for her to get her act together.

The purring cat in her arms was like a security blanket. Take my back, Glock. I’m going in. “In Iowa, I’d sneak out to the barn, take treats to the cats and dogs, and just…hang out…with them.” Blackie, the lab, would try to crawl in her lap. The barn cats would weave circles around her feet.

Galen frowned. “Why did you have to sneak out?”

“My father didn’t believe in house pets. Said it would ruin them for hunting so they had to stay in the barn.”

Vance turned to look at her; then the men exchanged glances. The pity in their eyes was unbearable.

Sally stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “It was no big deal. I just like animals.”

“Me too.” Vance pulled eggs, milk, and bacon from the fridge. “We always had a couple of dogs and a cat or two. My sisters would dress them in doll clothes. Poor beasties found it a relief when the girls got too old to play with dolls.”

“Good thing you were older. But, on second thought, you’d look quite endearing in a baby bonnet.” Galen ignored Vance’s scowl and grinned at Sally. “His sisters are like a pack of poodles.”

Vance snorted. “All yap and no bite.” And his love for them came through clearly. He put the pancake ingredients on the island and handed Galen a bowl and spoon. “You mix, pard. You got brothers or sisters, Sally?”

She pulled the cat closer. “A brother. Half brother.” She added the qualification as Tate always had. He hadn’t hated her. Much. He was the one who’d told her that her mother wasn’t supposed to have her. That Father hadn’t wanted more children—especially not a girl. “We’re not close. He’s not coming to my graduation ceremony.” But her father was.

“There’s a good frown.” Galen leaned forward and traced his finger over her downturned lips.

She looked up into intent eyes that seared like molten lava. Her worry about her father’s presence at the graduation ceremony burned away under the heat. Galen might be very controlled, but now she knew he wanted her. God, she wanted him too, wanted his dark voice whispering to her as he took her.

His lips curved slightly; then he sat back. “You’re not looking forward to the ceremony—or is it your family?”

Darn perceptive Dom. She shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Sally.” This time the reprimand came from Vance.

“I-I don’t l-like this,” she exploded. “I feel naked.”

Vance’s grin was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “That’s exactly how you should feel. Get used to it, little girl.”

Despite his grin, the merciless resolve in his voice made her shiver.

“Now, explain.” He turned back to putting bacon into the skillet.

Pushy jerks. Naked, huh? Guess she’d better start emotionally stripping.

With a sigh, she set the cat on the floor. When she struggled to rise, Galen stood, lifted her to her feet, and released her. “Thanks,” she muttered as he took his seat again.

“Not a problem, pet.”

At the sink, she washed her hands, taking her time and keeping her gaze away from them. Like how at the club, she’d turn her back to strip. Less disconcerting. Less intimate. She raised her voice slightly over the running water. “The ceremony is nothing unusual. But a classmate’s parents are throwing a reception afterward for us and our friends and families. I don’t know if my father will go.”

Everyone else would have hoards of family and friends.

“And you feel…” Galen prompted softly.

She glared at her soapy hands to keep from smarting off. She’d wanted them to push her, so why did she resent it so much? You’re being illogical, girl. Man up. The words still came slowly as if drawn up from a deep well. “I feel like the scrawny, mange-ridden dog left at the pound that never gets adopted.”

“Poor puppy.” Vance wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his solid chest. “We’ll be at your graduation and your party too.”

“Really?”

“Ayuh.” Galen agreed.

All her unspoken emotions dammed her throat. Finally she managed to speak. Her words came out husky. “Thank you.”

Vance watched as Sally came to a sudden halt just inside her studio apartment. Poor girl.

“Christ in a cave,” she whispered.

He put his arm around her and surveyed the mess. She’d undoubtedly been too upset last night to comprehend all the damage done to her apartment. Broken glass glittered from everywhere, including on the bed and embedded in the carpet. Spilled liquids and bloodstained walls and carpet. Broken furniture. “It’s a mess, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” She leaned against him, pleasing him.

What was there about a woman’s need that made a man stand straighter? “We can pick up the worst of it, but the wall stains and carpets need professional help.”

“But—”

He gave her a level look. “Galen and I will handle that part. And if it bothers us, we’ll visit Borup and make him foot the bill.” Galen said the guy had no priors so he wouldn’t do much time. More like probation, alcohol and anger classes.

Yeah, a quick visit after the asshole was released would be fun.

“Vance. I can handle this.”

“I know you can.” He ran his fingers through her silky mink-colored hair. Fuck, he loved long hair. Instant hard-on. Reluctantly he released her and watched her limp into the apartment. “I’m going to help anyway.”

“Right.” Awkwardly, she turned in a circle to study the room, her forehead endearingly wrinkled.

He waited, figuring she needed more time to adjust to the trauma. Considering how the senseless destruction outraged him, he could only imagine what she must feel. Despite the small size of the studio and the extent of the damage, he could see she’d made herself a cozy, colorful place. The apartment had the typical off-white walls and beige carpet, but her couch was dark red, the chairs black. Floral pillows blended the colors together, as did the scattered rugs on top of the carpet and the black-framed pictures.

Bold yet warm, much like Sally.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I saw a good-sized box at the end of the hall. I can use that to toss the broken stuff and glass into, if you’ll put the furniture back into place. If I can just get the worst of it up, I can vacuum, and then as long as I remember not to jump out of bed without putting on shoes, I can manage.”

While he’d thought she was mourning, she’d been formulating a plan of action. How did he keep underestimating her?

But did she seriously think they’d let her try to live here? “Sally, you do realize that after we’ve cleaned up, you’re going to pack some clothes and come home with me.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m what? No way.”

Good God, she’d thought he brought her back to drop her off like that fucking puppy at the pound? “Sweetheart, if we’re going to work with you, we need you available, don’t you think?” Leaning a shoulder against the wall, he watched her face.

It clouded over like a Tampa thunderstorm. “I can’t live with you.”

She’d make a lousy poker player, but once they finally got her in bed, those unrestrained expressions would be a delight. “Why not? Do we make you that nervous?”

Her back straightened. “Of course not.”

Liar. “Try again.”

“I…” She bit her lip. “Kind of. Besides, putting me up would be an imposition.”

She really was cute. And more fucking vulnerable than they’d realized. He and Galen would have to walk carefully around her. Oddly enough, the thought didn’t bother him at all. He pulled her back into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. “Do either Galen or I look like the type of Doms who’d do something we didn’t enjoy?”

“Actually, yes.” She rubbed her forehead on his chest. “I think you really do take on a lot of stuff you don’t like.”

Mmm. Very perceptive. “But not with women.”

In fact, they’d been careful to pick ones who wanted a fun night or scene and nothing more. He molded her against him, enjoying the soft curves. “You’re going to be a bit of work, sweetness, but we’ll demand things from you to compensate.”

“Sex.”

He chuckled at her matter-of-fact tone, then without warning, fisted her long hair and tugged her head back so he could watch her face. When he cupped her breast, her nipple peaked immediately. Pink surged into her face, and her pupils dilated. As he slowly caressed her breast, feeling the heat against his palm, he said quietly, “If we didn’t think sex would be a treat for all of us, we wouldn’t have played with you to begin with. Were we wrong?”

He held her in place although she looked down and tried to pull away. No, she wasn’t going to hide her face. “Eyes on me.” He waited until her gaze met his. “Answer my question.”

“No… I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Do you like my hands on you?”

The pink increased to an alluring red. “Yes,” she muttered.

Damn, he liked throwing her off balance. “Good answer. As to compensation for room and board, I think Galen wanted you to recover a hard drive that a virus trashed.”

She blinked, looking so startled he laughed. “Oh. Well, sure. I can do that,” she said.

“Good. Let’s get your place cleaned up, and you can fill a suitcase.” He waited until she made it to the middle of the room before adding, “I will—of course—help you decide what clothes you should pack.”

Definitely not a poker player.

That evening, Sally followed Galen into a room she hadn’t seen before. She stopped and stared. Wow. The entire house was a rehab patchwork. Some rooms were a broken-down mess; some were spectacular. This office was fantastic—very masculine with hardwood floors and light wood wainscoting. Leather chairs. A dark wood filing cabinet and bookcase shared one wall. At least, the oriental carpet and arched windows softened the testosterone. A bit.

Two antique desks held computers—and as far as she was concerned, that juxtaposition of old and new never looked quite right.

A massive round table filled the center of the room; the polished wood surface looked big enough to hold a person, which was a very…interesting thought. When Galen stopped at the table and tapped the surface, her cheeks flushed.

One of his eyebrows quirked up. He didn’t comment on her undoubtedly red face—thank you, God—but simply said, “You can set up your laptop here. The center compartment holds electrical plugs.”

Plugs. She’d heard the guys liked everything anal. Oh God, her mind was totally in the gutter, because the thought of his lean, ruthless fingers pushing a plug into her ass totally fizzed her hormones. She could feel her color heightening, so she shrugged and turned away. “Nice techie setup. And quite amazing. Considering your age, I figured you’d think a hard drive was a long trip on the road.”

His fingers gripped her chin and turned her to face him. He gave her a level look. “Yes, I probably have a decade on you. I definitely have enough years to know a little subbie is tossing out insults because she’s nervous.”

Oh shit. She could actually feel her color moving past red into fluorescent levels.

And she couldn’t think of any response to his dead-on conclusion. None. She retreated to get out of reach and tried on an I’m-just-adorable nose wrinkle. “You guys actually remodeled the office before the dining room?”

“Hell yes.” His rare grin made her insides quiver like jelly. “Of course, Vance insisted the great room come first so we could hook up the television. Can’t miss seeing the Buckeyes play.”

She laughed, half with relief and half with amusement. Once they’d returned from her apartment, Vance had checked the time and disappeared into the great room to watch his basketball game. “Good to know. I’ll remember to speak of them with respect.”

“Excellent plan. Insulting Ohio State would earn you a bare-ass spanking.” He tilted his head, watching her. “Of course, he’d probably hand you off to me for the punishment. He has a soft heart.”

His dark look sent a current running between them, heating her insides at the same time. She swallowed. “And you don’t? Have a soft heart?”

“No, pet.” He moved closer and ran his thumb over her lips. In the sunlight streaming through the windows, his eyes weren’t completely black, but a dark, dark brown around the outer iris, and lightening near the pupil. Mesmerizing… His lips curved. “I look forward to turning your pretty ass red. To seeing tears in your eyes. And making you come so hard our neighbors will hear you scream our names.”

Their neighbors weren’t that close.

It was very hot in the room; the air-conditioning needed to be turned up. “Ah, right.” She took a careful step back and set her laptop on the table.

Time to get to work. She had a zillion texts and voice mails to answer. Apparently the Shadowkittens had heard about Frank’s attack.

And there were even more e-mails. Unfortunately, she also needed to catch up on the Harvest Association e-mails. Wading through their filth made her sick each and every time, but she wasn’t going to quit. Not as long as she could help. Heroes didn’t quit.

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Want some help setting up?”

She tensed. Her e-mail program came up first. Galen might recognize some of the bad guys’ names. “Nah, I can handle it.”

His eyes had narrowed. Frigging Feds, keen to notice the tiniest hint of guilt.

“Can I have your wireless security code?” she asked hastily.

After an intimidating pause, he walked over to desk on the left wall and scrawled the password on a sticky note.

“Thank you.” Leave. Leave now. Go on. And the first thing she’d do would be to check those e-mails and bury the program.

“We’ll be in the great room.” As he walked away, actually obeying her mental commands, she started to relax…until he turned in the doorway and gave her a long look. “If we decide to fuck you on the table, you’ll have to move your stuff—so don’t leave it too messy, eh?”

Oh. My. God. He really had known what she was thinking.

She couldn’t help looking at the table…imagining. Spread out like a feast, open to their hands, their mouths. After a long, shuddering breath, she turned to glare at the empty doorway. Now she had to sit at that table with an overheated imagination and a damp thong.

An hour later, Sally appeared. Galen frowned. The girl looked as white as she had last night; it made the bruising on her face stand out even more. “Problems?”

Her attempt at a smile failed badly. “Nah. I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit,” Vance said from where he was sprawled on the sectional. He picked up the remote and turned the TV off.

On the other end of the couch, in his recliner, Galen noted the game had only been in the third quarter. The little sub had better watch out.

After a nervous glance at the blank television screen, she amended, “Some…acquaintances…are upset because they lost some…money. And I hate reading profanity. But it’s not anything you can fix—or that I can share.” Her chin lifted, and she gave them a spirited glare. “Okay, Sirs?”

Galen’s lips twitched, and he worked to suppress his smile. He sat his recliner up, tossed a heavy couch cushion on the floor at his feet, and pointed to it.

Her hands formed little fists—and he had an appealing vision of how her hands would feel on his shoulders…or dick—then she obeyed.

He watched closely as she went to her knees. Moving better. No tightness around her mouth indicating pain. She was clever and used a hand on the coffee table to balance as she kept her weight off her braced ankle. And the cushion was high enough that her ankle didn’t have to bend. Good.

Galen tipped his chin at Vance. They needed to set some ground rules, and Vance would start out more gently.

Vance accepted the handoff. “We haven’t spoken about your place in the household, have we?”

She blinked, as if he’d sidestepped her anticipated argument. “Um. Right. I’d like a bit of clarity on what’s expected. Maybe even some negotiation.” A trace of sarcasm had crept into her tone.

Appreciation flashed in his partner’s eyes. The last submissive they’d brought home had been sweet but not too bright, and she’d missed a lot of subtext. He and Vance preferred the smart ones, even if they were more trouble.

From comments at the Shadowlands and her documented history and his own observations, he was beginning to realize the imp was very, very intelligent.

“We can do discussion,” Vance said agreeably. “Normally, we don’t get into full-time D/s relationships. We have no interest in picking a sub’s clothing—except for scenes. For example, I’m rather partial to French maid costumes, especially ones with short skirts. And no underwear.”

Sally’s color heightened.

Be interesting to arouse her verbally and keep her on edge all evening. But not now. Galen sighed. “Focus, Buchanan.”

Vance tossed him a grin before returning his attention to his instruction. “So. We don’t need a maid or cook. If you pull your own weight in the house, that’s enough.” Vance pushed the coffee table farther away, angled himself to face Sally, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “However, you requested our assistance for a task that can’t be limited to an occasional scene. Am I right?”

Her huff of breath was audible. “Yes, Sir.”

“This is how it will work. If we ask you a question in casual conversation, we expect an honest, forthright response. If you can’t provide one, we’ll drop into a D/s dynamic until we get the answer.”

She actually paled.

“However, that D/s dynamic isn’t limited to the times we catch you being evasive, pet,” Galen qualified. “That’s up to us.”

“You’re such a fucking lawyer,” Vance muttered, then returned to her. “What he said. Any problems with the plan so far?”

She shook her head.

“Answer aloud, please,” Galen said softly. His partner didn’t particularly care, but Galen enjoyed hearing changes in a submissive’s tone and word choices.

Such as now, as Sally murmured, “No problems, Sir.” The sarcasm had disappeared; her sharp edges had disappeared. From her expression and posture, he could see her sliding into a submissive mind-set, but by God, he really enjoyed hearing it as well.

“Good. Next, we do like sexually oriented play,” Vance said.

As she stiffened slightly, Galen added, “Sally, if you’re uncomfortable with that, you can still live here. We’ll work with you without sex involved…but we need to know.”

Vance nodded. “You seemed to enjoy sexual scenes at the club. But things change. We won’t be upset with either choice, but you have to be the one to choose, sweetheart. Sex or no sex.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and Galen’s respect for her grew when she looked at them directly and said, “Sex.” She didn’t pretend to be pushed into the answer, didn’t deny the sexual tension among the three of them.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not pleased,” Vance said lightly. “Are you on the pill?”

“Yes.”

A shame to have to deal with ugly topics, but better that it was done.

“While you’re here, you’ll be our only partner, and we expect the same from you. And we prefer no barriers during sex,” Vance said. “Galen and I have no diseases, and as members of the Shadowlands, we’re all tested often, but let’s swing by the doc tomorrow and get us all checked again.”

She nodded. “Frank had…loose ideas about monogamy, so we never had unprotected sex.” Her lifted chin showed that insisting upon that had, perhaps, been an adversarial position. Good for her. “I’m clean, but I think the extra testing is wise. Thank you.”

“Next, your limits list was filled out for a club venue. But we won’t be playing in a public venue most of the time. Would you like to restrict—or add—anything to that list?”

She thought for a second and shook her head. Then with a glance at Galen, she spoke her answer. “No, Sir.”

There it was. Her resistance was disappearing. Sir could be said in many ways, but when it slipped out easily, without thought, the title was one of the most beautiful words in the English language. Coming from this little imp made it all the more special.

“Thank you, Sally,” he said, showing he recognized her surrender. And prized it.

She tried to shrug it off, but the sweet pinkness of her cheeks said she valued his approval.

And they all knew she’d fight them now and then—especially since they would push her into uncomfortable mental places to break down her barriers. Speaking of which… “We don’t know why you have a problem, and we’re going to work on helping you overcome it, but you might try counseling instead or in association with this. If finances are a problem, we can help.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Um.” Her expression changed as she considered his suggestion. Her thinking mode was interesting to watch—as if she heard music that played only for her.

After a minute, she shook her head. “I’d like to work with just you guys for now, but I’ll tell you if I think it’s too stressful or if I change my mind.”

“Good enough,” Vance said. “For sleeping arrangements, the guest room—your room—has the biggest bed. Simply close the door if you don’t want company at night.”

Vance’s nod at Galen handed back the reins.

“Take your shirt off, pet,” Galen said.

Her eyes rounded. But she obeyed. After pulling her pink T-shirt over her head, she hesitated with her hands on her lacy bra.

Galen nodded.

The bra followed. She really did have pretty breasts. Ample and high with pink-brown nipples. Her stomach was rounded and just the right softness for enjoyable nipping.

She laid her clothes neatly on the coffee table. “Sirs,” she said quietly. “Do you prefer any type of address?”

“As long as you’re polite, we’re not fussy,” Vance said.

“Stand up and remove the rest, please,” Galen said softly. He leaned forward and offered his hands to help steady her.

Her hands were cool, her grip strong as she let him help her to her feet. He tossed the cushion back on the couch.

As she started to unbuckle her silver belt, a flush started at her breasts and flowed upward.

“Stop.” Vance smiled as she paused. “You’re blushing, sweetheart. Why?”

Her mouth fell open as if to say you’re questioning me…now? “Um. This is embarrassing. That’s why.”

“Really?” With his elbow on the recliner arm, Galen rested his chin on his palm. “I’ve seen you strip in the Shadowlands without blushing.”

Her color deepened.

SERIOUSLY? SALLY FELT almost…outraged. She was ready to have sex. They liked her body. Wanted her. She knew it. But to stop and question her about her feelings. Again? When Vance’s gaze lingered on her clenched hands, she forced them open.

Okay, they were just doing what she’d wanted. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that? And why in heaven’s name was she embarrassed anyway? “I’m just—”

Her voice trailed off at the serious expression on Vance’s face. He hated her evasions. She bit her lip and tried to think. He was right; she didn’t mind being naked at the Shadowlands. Then again, the Masters didn’t try to make her feel—vulnerable—and the younger Doms couldn’t.

“You make me feel…exposed. More than naked.”

“Keep stripping.” Galen studied her as she pushed her jeans off. “We want you to feel exposed. Inside and out.”

As her nipples contracted into tight peaks, Vance’s gaze dropped there. “You have pretty breasts, Sally, and I like breasts.”

A bit of the nervous fluttering in her stomach eased. At least until Galen said, “Present yourself, please. Standing. Wrists crossed behind your lower back. And let me know if you find anything uncomfortable or if your ankle starts to hurt.”

Her legs started shaking as she widened her stance, straightened her posture, and put her arms behind her back.

“If you arch your back more, you’ll please Vance,” Galen suggested.

Even as her back arched, she recognized the manipulative technique. He was pushing her into pleasing them.

“It seems you like making him happy,” Galen observed.

She stopped her automatic nod and said, “I guess.”

Galen smiled at her, his midnight eyes softening. “A verbal answer. You like pleasing me as well?”

She hesitated.

Vance rose and wrapped his big hand around her wrists tightly enough she couldn’t move her arms. He cupped her right breast. “Answer Galen.”

She felt his calloused fingers scrape over the tender underside of her breast. “I do.” When she managed to look away from Galen’s dark gaze, she added under her breath, “I don’t know why.”

“Aside from the fact that you’re submissive and like to please?” Vance asked.

She nodded.

He tugged at her nipple. “Probably more than one reason. You trust us or you’d never have come here, let alone asked for help.” Still holding her hands behind her back, he nudged her chin up and took her lips.

He kissed like—like himself. Firm but direct. Gentle, yet holding her so she’d take whatever he wanted to give her. “And there’s something between us, sweetheart. You’ve attracted us from the beginning, and from the way you’ve retreated, you feel it as well.”

His perceptive eyes caught hers, sending her sliding downward into quicksand.

He kissed her again. Deeper. Wetter.

Then Galen stepped in front of her, and a quaking built inside her. Vance was straightforward. Galen was…unpredictable. His unreadable eyes watched her as Vance released her wrists.

“Vance likes to make sure you don’t move. I want you to do that yourself.” Galen smiled slightly. “It will please me if you maintain that position until I say otherwise.”

Oh God. She swallowed against a dry throat. “Yes, Sir.”

“Now let’s see where your threshold lies. Tell me when something actually hurts. Not fun pain but hurts, eh?”

She trembled, the fluttering working its way outward. Her skin felt hot, her insides cold.

Galen walked around her in a Dom’s inspection of his naked submissive. She stayed silent, feeling herself sink further into the happy state of no control.

He ran a finger down her arm, stroked over her shoulders, fondled her buttocks. Firm fingers, hard hand. “Very nice.”

Once in front of her, he cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. A smile played along his lips as he pinched one nipple and the other. The tugging sensation was wonderful. Her toes curled.

Then he increased the pressure to where it hurt.

A squeak escaped her.

He didn’t ease up. “Does that hurt, Sally?”

She nodded. Her eyes filled.

“Why don’t you say so?”

She stared at him. Admit that something hurt? She just didn’t. And how stupid is that? “It hurts,” she whispered.

“There you go.” He rubbed her nipples to reduce the sting. “Do you think the world will come to an end if you tell someone you hurt?”

“No.” But she felt odd. Tense. As if he’d…be crueler now that he knew.

“Physical and emotional?” His eyes narrowed, growing darker. Sterner. “Who used to hurt you, pet? Who made it so you didn’t want to admit to hurting?”

She couldn’t answer. Her brain ceased to function, as if someone had pulled her power plug and shut down the processor.

“Hell,” Galen said under his breath. He took her wrists, put them around her waist, and pulled her into his arms.

Shuddering, she sagged against him. Cold currents swirled through her like an insane whirlpool. But in his firm embrace, she knew she wouldn’t spiral out of control. He had her. As his body warmth poured into her, she gave a tiny sigh and laid her cheek against the solid wall of his chest.

“Vance?” Galen murmured. “Ideas?”

“You didn’t have siblings, pard,” Vance answered. “Sally, think back. Do you remember saying, ‘You can’t make me hurt.’” His voice was high. Young. Defiant.

Familiar.

“I-I said that to my brother.” Her voice came out high and hesitant. She’d never said it to her father—just thought it so many times.

“Go on.” Galen flattened his hands on her back, confining her against him.

She was silent.

A touch on her cheek broke her paralysis. She opened her eyes and found Vance beside her. “You didn’t want your brother to think he could hurt you?” His gaze was understanding. “Or make you cry, right?”

She nodded. “He made fun of me if I cried.” His taunts were somehow worse than the occasional pain, somehow making it clearer that her mother’s death had destroyed her family as well.

“What did he do to make you cry, sweetheart?” Vance’s hand was gentle on her face.

“He would push me sometimes. If I got in his way,” she whispered. Cold Iowa winter. Ice on the sidewalk. A narrow, shoveled path between the house and barn. Two could squeeze by—or one could be shoved out of the way.

“Did he hit you?” Galen’s voice was almost a growl.

“Not…really.” Not Tate. A slap on the back at the school as he pretended he’d been congratulating her for her test scores, but the spot had burned. “But…Tate just didn’t like me.”

“And your father?” Vance asked quietly.

She closed her eyes, unable to tolerate his keen gaze. Because… On the rare occasions that she talked too much or asked for something or complained, her father would slap her. Because he hated her. Hated her. She realized she was shaking and pushed at Galen. “Let me go!”

“Shhh,” Galen said. “We’re stopping now, baby girl.” He took a step back and sat on the couch, pulling her with him.

Even as he adjusted her position on his lap, she realized how careful he was being with her injuries. And she didn’t care. “Let me go,” she said again. “I don’t want to—”

“Settle, pet.” Even as he rubbed his chin on the top of her head, his steel-hard arm remained around her waist. “No more questions. You’ve worked hard enough for now.”

Settle. She wasn’t going to settle. Couldn’t. Didn’t want to remember things.

He was talking to Vance in a low voice, finishing with, “I set her off. I’ll hold her for a bit. Make us both feel better.”

A hand ruffled her hair, and somehow she recognized Vance’s touch. “I’ll be back in a while.”

His footsteps faded. Galen didn’t move, and his concern filtered through her cold shell, into the ice that filled her insides. Muscle by muscle, she slowly relaxed against him.

“That’s better,” he murmured. He snuggled her to him even more closely. “I’m sorry, Sally. It isn’t easy to face what has happened in the past. But whatever happens, I’ll be here to hold you afterward.” He kissed her temple gently. “Whether you want me to or not.”

Doms. Demon Doms. How could he be stern one minute and so comforting the next? She gave a little sigh and put her arm around his waist. Under her cheek, his heartbeat was as slow and measured as the Gregorian chants played in the Shadowlands, and each thud dissipated more of her memories.

He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, teasing her with the scent of his rich aftershave, and she remembered another occasion she’d been close enough to smell that hint of lavender—when she’d been tied to a table in the Shadowlands. He’d been touching her. His gaze intent on hers…as she came.

God, she’d never orgasmed like that before. Never felt so exposed as she did.

A shiver ran through her at the memory…and with a small jolt, she realized she was still naked. On his lap.

She traced her fingers over his crisp shirt…and the contoured muscles of his chest. God, he reminded her of an all-black leopard she’d seen—sleek and powerful. Every time Galen moved, she could feel his muscles ripple under the skin. She stroked up his chest, almost mesmerized by the valley between his pectorals, the dip at the hollow of his throat, how his deltoids transformed into rock-hard biceps. She pressed closer.

His arm around her tightened, and she felt the power of his eyes on her. The silence from him seemed to grow, taking on an almost palpable weight. “Give me a kiss, Sally.”

A kiss—a kiss with Galen? With his directive, she was suddenly aware of how her breasts were flattened on his chest and how his hand cupped her bottom. His hands were calloused…and she wanted those hands elsewhere. Covering her pussy. Pushing inside her. A kiss. When she curled one hand around his nape, his thick hair teased her fingers. She tipped her head up to press her mouth against his.

He took control immediately. Good God, the man could kiss. Deep and hot and panty wetting. Only she didn’t have on panties.

His tongue tangled with hers, pushed deep, retreated, lured hers into the play. When he sucked on her bottom lip, she felt the pull low in her core. He did nothing but enjoy her, choosing different angles, taking his time, going nowhere.

And where ice had reigned, a fire started to build. An urgency. She was naked; he should be too.

With one hand, she tried to unbutton his shirt. She’d reached the second one before he noticed.

He glanced down, a snort escaped him, and he muttered, “You’re definitely an imp.” After setting her on her feet—holding her until she found her balance—he rose. His voice louder than normal, he called, “Vance.”

Before she could move, he captured her wrists, putting her arms behind her back. The position arched her back—and pushed her breasts out. Holding her firmly, he kissed her again, even as he rubbed his chest against her breasts. The stiff material abraded her jutting nipples, making her pussy dampen.

Finished, he glanced over her shoulder. And smiled.

Vance’s big hand replaced Galen’s as he pressed against her from behind, warming her skin with his body. Reaching around, he flattened his free hand over her breast, sending need clawing through her in jagged patterns.

Galen took her face between his palms, tipping his hand to avoid her bruise, and took himself another kiss, a totally demanding one, while Vance held her for him, not letting her move.

God, God, God. The unyielding hands on her wrists, the plunder of her mouth—her insides liquefied like butter on a summer sidewalk.

Vance reached around to tease her nipples into rigid peaks.

Her knees simply buckled.

Laughing, Galen grabbed her waist and held her up until she could stand again. “You kiss like a wet dream,” he said. “Enjoy for a bit, Vance.”

Vance didn’t release her wrists; instead he fisted his free hand in her hair, pulling her head back and back until he had her arched far enough he could capture her lips.

Different was all she could think. Galen…took, demanded, plundered, but Vance was simply overwhelming, swamping her in sensation.

She was standing on one leg; the toes of her injured leg were barely touching the floor to help her balance.

Now Galen’s hard hand grasped her calf as he carefully moved her injured leg outward and held it there. Opening her. At her wobble, Vance simply tightened his grip and continued. Her head spun under the assault.

Then she felt Galen stroke up her leg, heading directly to her pussy. Heat sizzled through her when he touched her folds. One finger ruthlessly circled her clit until burgeoning need made her moan. She was very, very wet—she could tell from the slick feeling of his hand.

“How sore are you, baby?” Galen asked, lightly touching her bruised hip. “Want more, or should we stop?”

After nipping her bottom lip, Vance let her answer.

Stop? Now? “I’m fine.” The silence reminded her they didn’t always believe her. “Really. I’m fine.” She wanted to ask them to continue. Needed to ask. Couldn’t. “I… More would be good.”

Vance huffed a breath, laughing, and yet she realized he was watching her carefully, making sure. “All right, sweetie. More, it is.”

AND HE’D GET a kick out of giving her as much as she could take, Vance thought.

The half smile on Galen’s face said he was on board with that idea. But she wasn’t ready for the usual way they made love…and in all reality, he wanted a more “hands-on” approach first too. The first scene they’d done with her had given him a good idea of many of her erogenous zones. But by the time he finished today, he intended to have a whole lot more mapped out.

He glanced at Galen. The tightness around his eyes said his knee was hurting. And Sally had been roughed up—they’d need to be very careful. “How about a quilt on the bar? I’m in the mood for a feast.”

Galen’s eyes narrowed—he hated any accommodation made for his injury—but his fingers touched the bruise on Sally’s hip again. “Good plan.”

“A feast?” Sally asked.

“Yep. Galen and I are hungry—for you.” With a smile, Vance lifted her into his arms. And wasn’t it lucky that he’d stocked the island drawers for fun after the kitchen was finished.

Galen swept a fluffy quilt off the back of the couch and led the way into the kitchen. After he’d spread the quilt on the marble-topped center island, Vance lay Sally on her back with her feet toward the backless bar stools.

As her wavy brown hair spilled across the blue-green fabric, Vance picked up one silky lock. “She’s color coordinated with the cabinets.”

Galen glanced at the brown walnut cabinets and snorted. As he took his seat on a bar stool, he said, “Might as well continue the color scheme. You put those blue thigh bands in the drawer?”

Restraints? Vance’s cock thickened so fast it almost brought him to his knees. “Damn straight.” He smiled into Sally’s worried—excited—eyes. “Say your safe word.”

“Red.”

“Good. Use if it you need to, sweetheart.” Playing in a private home had to be more frightening than in a club where dungeon monitors could intervene. He had to respect the courage of submissives who’d let someone tie them down. He bent down to take the straps from the island’s bottom drawer and, as long as he was there, a couple of condoms as well. And after a moment of thought, a packet of lube.

Galen saw the packet and grinned.

Oh yeah. Vance wrapped one strap just above her left knee and almost got distracted. Women had such soft skin on their inner thighs. “Move her down, Galen.”

Galen gripped her thighs and slid her, quilt and all, until her ass was at the edge of the island counter and positioned perfectly for Galen to play.

The strap had a short lead ending in a D ring. Vance clipped it to one of the eyebolts spaced at intervals along the underside of the island. He grinned at her. “You get to be the first to break in the island.”

“Lucky me.” Her breathless voice had a slight tremble in it. Nice.

After walking around to her left side, Vance ran his hand over her bare pussy lips, enjoying the way her breathing hitched. Yes, she was ready for more. Carefully, he strapped her other thigh, clipping it at an angle that ensured her knees would stay splayed apart. “Is this going to hurt your hip?”

She moved, tested, and shook her head. “No, Sir.”

“Good enough.” Just for fun, he ran another strap across her lower stomach and made it snug. Running a finger around the purple bruise well above the strap, he wished he could have a few minutes with the bastard who’d hurt her.

Galen waited patiently, one palm stroking the inside of her right calf. “Wrist restraints?” he asked, bringing Vance back to the present.

Wrists… Hmmm. Should he?

“No, I like letting her experience a token amount of freedom even while knowing she can’t move her cunt away from anything you do to it.”

When her legs jumped as if to test his statement, Galen laughed.

“And I want to feel her hands in my hair.” With a grin back, Vance kissed the center of Sally’s little palms before putting her arms around his neck. Being a smart subbie, she ran her fingers into his hair as he bent down and licked over her right breast. Her fingers gave a reflexive yank as her body jumped.

Sensitive breasts. Fuck, he might kill himself playing with her. And, unlike the sensuous scene they’d done in the Shadowlands, this time he could indulge himself as much as he wanted.

He gave her a long introductory kiss, like the ceremonial toss of the ball into the game. And then he started working his way down, nuzzling her neck, licking the hollow of her collarbone. Her breasts were full, the nipples the color of her lips, already peaked. The tiny bumps around the nubs teased his tongue. Using his lips, his teeth, his tongue, he teased first one nipple and the other before using his hands on her breasts. As he kneaded them, he enjoyed the way the skin tightened as they swelled. He pushed them together so he could alternately lap at the nipples.

From the way her back arched, pushing her nipples into his mouth, she was dying for him to suck.

Not yet.

He looked into her pleading eyes.

Her last trace of anxiety had disappeared.

“We’re just starting, sweetie.” And the kitchen was damn hot. He stripped off his T-shirt and savored the desire in her gaze before he bent over again, this time to tease the soft roundness of her belly. A light nip made her squeak. Running his tongue downward toward her pussy had her muscles tensing. He could feel her trying to lift her hips toward his mouth—unsuccessfully.

Not going to happen, sweetheart. She’d shown them how easily she could come—and Vance wanted to see how high they could take her before that.

A glance toward the end of the table revealed amusement in his friend’s face as well as lust. But Galen wouldn’t let Sally get off too quickly. He was talented at gauging the moment to back off—better than Vance—and maybe because of that healthy streak of sadism.

Galen leaned forward and kissed the inside of her thigh, just above the strap. The sharp sound of her inhalation was tantalizing. And Vance decided to hang back for a few minutes and watch his partner drive her crazy.

SALLY’S BREASTS WERE so swollen she could feel the beat of her pulse. Her nipples ached and burned for more attention. Her pussy was worse. Without even having been touched, the labia were swollen, hurting.

With her knees pulled up and outward, she was wide open to whatever Galen wanted to do—but he wasn’t doing anything, the annoying asshat.

Still sitting on the bar stool, he’d leaned forward. His forearms on the edge of the island pressed against the outside of her buttocks, giving her disconcerting pressure, but not where she wanted it. Touch me; touch me; touch me.

Instead of hearing her silent plea, he brushed his lips over her inner thigh. One, then the other. After a minute of torture, she realized he was drifting slowly, but surely, toward the place. She rocked her hips, trying to angle him, to move him—

Slap.

The startling pain on her inner thigh blasted through her. “Ow!” Yet the smarting eased into an erotic burning to match her pussy.

Galen didn’t even lift his head, so she transferred her glare to Vance.

He chuckled. “He’s never liked moving targets. He gets cranky.”

Cranky? The most intense, controlled, dominating Dom she’d ever met got cranky? A giggle escaped her.

Then she choked as Galen’s merciless fingers pulled her folds open.

The brush of cool air on her entrance and her engorged clit made her moan. There, there, there.

Nothing happened.

She raised her head slightly. Galen was simply looking at her pussy with that indefinable manner of a Dom inspecting what he considered to be his.

Her flush of embarrassment disappeared in the inferno that rolled right up her body until she could feel her cheeks glowing. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice…

He lifted his head; his keen eyes studied her face for a long moment before meeting her gaze. She saw his amusement, his hunger, and something…more. As if he cared how she felt.

She felt Vance’s hands on her breasts…but Galen’s gaze kept hers trapped.

As Galen held her open, he ran a finger from his other hand around her entrance, and slowly, slowly slid it up toward her clit.

Her eyes started to close as the pressure inside her grew, as—

“Eyes on me, Sally.”

At Galen’s soft command, she forced her eyes open. He never looked away as his finger slicked up one side of her clit. Her muscles tried to tighten, and his fingers implacably held her open. When he wiggled the hood, the sensation of his calloused finger was too intense, and she flinched.

His touch lightened, and he slid his finger down the other side of her clit. Electricity seemed to sizzle there, right under the skin.

But as he moved his finger down farther, she wanted to groan with frustration. The finger slid into her, awakening new nerves. It withdrew, and she felt him insert two fingers, moving them inside her pussy as if exploring—yet his gaze never moved away from her face. In and out. Back in.

Oh God, it felt so good. A quiver coursed through her, and she felt a coiling of arousal growing deep within her.

With insistent fingertips, he rubbed an area inside her, over and over. He gave a tiny shake of his head and changed to a new place.

She started to wiggle to tell him to move on but… No, Sally. No moving targets for this Dom. Somehow, she managed to force herself to hold still.

He had sun lines at the corners of his eyes, and without even a smile, they deepened as he watched her. Then he rubbed a place that made her vaginal muscles jerk tight, squeezing around the hardness of his fingers.

“Well, that’s easy enough to reach,” he murmured and slid his fingers out.

No! A moan escaped her.

He chuckled and looked up at Vance. As Galen’s gaze moved away, she felt as if she’d been drawn over a rack and suddenly released.

After nodding at Vance, Galen smiled at her. A…worrisome smile.

“Hang on, sweetheart.” Vance pressed her breasts together, his hands rougher than before. No more gentle, teasing touches from him.

Galen bent his head, and his tongue skimmed over her bare outer labia and up to her clit, circling slowly inward with fluttering licks. His other arm wrapped outside her thigh so his hand could cover her mound. His fingers curled, pulling up on the skin so the hood exposed her clit and made the nub stand out.

He slid two fingers back inside her to rub ruthlessly over that sensitive spot, and her muscles tensed around him, making him smile. Over and over, he stroked…right on that spot.

As her insides clamped down, he thrust in and out occasionally, as if to keep the entrance wakened.

She felt as if she was swelling inside, and there was a feeling of needing to pee that made her squirm. The pressure grew as his mouth paused directly above her clit. She could feel his sultry breath against the unprotected button.

“Say please, Sally.” Galen’s voice broke into her need.

Her mouth closed. Couldn’t.

“You can, sweetie,” Vance murmured. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, licking around it.

At the same time, Galen licked a circle around her clit, round and round, even as his fingers tormented that…spot…inside. The need to come was like the inevitable surge of the ocean, breakers rising up out of the sea, rolling toward—

Everything stopped. Vance, Galen, tongues, fingers.

A protesting groan broke from her.

Vance’s lips closed around her other nipple, lightly. Not moving.

“Say please, Sally,” Galen whispered. “Nothing else. Just one word, pet.”

Her mouth moved, couldn’t.

He blew a stream of air onto her appallingly sensitive clit.

Cold contracted the overheated tissues; her hips strained upward toward release. “Please.”

“Good girl.” His voice was a purr of approval that wrapped her heart in warmth.

Vance pulled her nipple into his mouth…and sucked strongly.

Galen’s mouth closed over her clit—the sudden engulfing wetness shocking—and cartwheeled her right toward an orgasm. And, oh God, he sucked on her clit in fast pulls as his tongue rubbed one side and the other.

Up, up, up.

Her body tightened. Her breathing stopped. Her hands fisted in Vance’s hair as she clutched him against her breast. Everything poised for that moment of…

With a rushing sound she felt rather than heard, everything drew together into one glowing, glorious cosmic ball before exploding outward. The splendor of it took her air, her mind, her body as she rode the waves of the orgasm. The blackness of space filled her world, meteors streaked through her vision, and sensation after sensation sparkled through her like newly born galaxies.

Finally the roaring in her ears diminished, and she heard Vance’s low chuckle and Galen’s hum of satisfaction.

As she lay, limp and gasping, Vance unstrapped her legs. Before she could move, he picked her up. Galen folded the huge quilt into a rectangle. After nudging together two backless counter-high stools, he arranged the inches-deep, puffy “pillow” over the tops.

Vance laid her belly-down across the stools. “Does that hurt your stomach?”

There was more than a feather mattress. “No, Sir.”

When her toes tapped on the floor, Vance bent her left leg and wrapped a rope around her thigh and lower calf, ensuring her knee stayed bent. “No pressure on this one, remember?”

Right. Only that left her even more helpless, she realized with an anticipatory shiver.

“Sally.” Galen’s voice.

Getting her hands under her, she pushed her head and shoulders up slightly. “Yes, Sir?”

“I want your mouth around me, pet,” In front of her, Galen unzipped his jeans, and his cock bobbed out. Like the rest of his body, it was perfectly shaped and beautiful even to the plum-shaped head.

Oh, she wanted that—everything in her wanted to satisfy him. To hear the way his voice deepened and hummed if she’d done something to please him.

She breathed in his musky scent, licked her lips, and opened to allow him to guide himself into her mouth. Velvety skin was stretched tight over inner steel. “Mmmmh.”

He huffed a laugh. “Go to work, Sally.” He pulled her hair out of her face, tangling his hand in the strands to direct her movements. The sense of being controlled, being helpless curled inside her, growing in urgency.

She worked him, licking and sucking, loving the chance to give, loving the appreciative under-the-breath sounds he made.

“You’re as good at this as I’d heard,” he said once, making her lips curve around his hardness.

She felt her legs pushed apart and muscular thighs moved between them. Vance’s big hand tested her wetness, and something pressed against her entrance…an extremely thick cock. Almost too big. But she was so soft and slick that, despite Vance’s size, he could push in.

Not easily. A quiver ran through her as his shaft stretched her, sparking off orgasmic aftershocks. He didn’t slow, pressing in with the ruthlessness of a bulldozer, until he was deep inside her and his groin rubbed against her buttocks.

God, she felt filled, top and bottom. Used. Taken. Controlled.

She wanted it all. Wanted them.

As Vance pulled back, the slick slide of his hefty cock kindled every nerve back to life and, like a struck match, ignited her clit all over again. As he bent over her, his wide hand slid under her lower abdomen to tilt her ass up higher. His grip on her right hip tightened as he slid slowly back into her. And, as if satisfied she could take him, he increased the pace, each powerful thrust pushing her forward onto Galen’s cock.

GALEN GRINNED EVEN as his body started to tighten. He wouldn’t push her limits today, not until he knew how well she handled oral sex, but by God, she felt good. When he pulled back, the air struck his wet dick with a wash of coolness. He pushed forward into her hot, wet mouth. Her tongue swirled over him. With each thrust, he was immersed in heat and softness.

Vance’s gaze met his in mutual enjoyment of sharing a little subbie—and, he had to admit, this one was something special. Christ. He’d need to think carefully about where they were going with her. Later.

Slowly, he sped up, careful not to get too deep or forceful—yet, directing her to ensure she knew she wasn’t in control of any part of this. He could see her hands tightening on the stool legs. Looked like the little sub was going to get off again. Excellent.

Hopefully after he did, since Cullen had mentioned that the imp was known to nip with orgasms. Why was he not surprised?

As she sucked on the tip of his cock and lashed him with her tongue, he’d swear the room temperature was increasing to sauna-like levels. She gave generously of herself, didn’t she?

Pleased, he stroked her hair. “You make me very happy, Sally. And now, I’m going to get off before you do. You okay with swallowing?”

Her head came up slightly, eyes surprised. Surprised that he’d ask? But she nodded, her lips curving around his cock in the prettiest sight he’d seen in a long time.

Well then. With an indulgent groan, he pumped in and out, harder, faster, deeper, and felt the unmistakable boiling sensation begin. The climax ran down his lower back, tightened his balls into rocks, and blew out of his cock in scalding jerks of pleasure. He fisted her hair, holding her tightly as he checked that she could get air.

Her throat squeezed the tip of his increasingly sensitive cock as she swallowed and swallowed again.

Fuck that felt good.

And he breathed out, not moving so he could savor her warmth around him. Her tongue made lazy circles as his shaft decreased in size.

Finally, he pulled back and bent to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you, Sally. You were wonderful.”

The flush that stained her cheeks showed her happiness at having perfectly served her Dom. And she had.

Little witch. With every flash of sweetness she showed, she was pulling him further under her spell.

Stroking her hair gently, he nodded at Vance, who had slowed to let Sally focus on the blowjob.

“My turn?” Vance picked up the packet of lube he’d placed on an unused stool. After ripping it open, he spread Sally’s cheeks apart and drizzled the contents over her asshole.

COOL LIQUID DRIPPED onto her overheated flesh. Onto her asshole. What the heck? Sally’s head came up so fast her neck almost got whiplash. “What are you doing?”

Galen laughed, his hand still rested on her hair in the most comforting way. “He’s just playing this time. You’re not ready for more.”

More. Hell, she knew they’d want that. The other submissives had said as much. The Feds’ penchant for anal sex was just one of the reasons she hadn’t particularly wanted to be with them. Anal wasn’t high on her list of favorites. At least not for anything the size of a cock. Every time she’d allowed the act, she’d regretted giving in to a Dom’s pressure.

But, oh God, what would it be like with these two? They were so…different, always so careful. They treated her like something—someone—special.

And yet, even as they cared for her, they took what they desired. And she wanted that sense of being overpowered, mentally and physically. Needed it.

A tremor ran through her as Vance’s cock slid in and out of her pussy, slow and inexorable.

His strong hand clasped her right buttock, pulling it apart so…

She squirmed as his thick finger circled her anus, penetrating slightly before withdrawing. Every time his cock pulled back, Vance pushed in his finger, slowly but surely working his way deeper.

Nerve after nerve flared awake, like birthday-cake candles being lit until the entire region was flaming brightly.

“There we go, sweetheart. No more today,” he said, caressing her bottom, his cock deep inside her. Filling her. “I hope you enjoy anal plugs, because you’ll be wearing one every day until you can take me.”

A shudder shook her—and she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

He laughed, and his hand moved to take her right hip in a tight, ruthless grip. “Ready?”

No!

A moan escaped her as he set up a mind-blowing rhythm by alternately impaling her anus with his finger and her pussy with his cock. The effect confused her senses as her body responded, pressure inside growing in an undeniable way. Her breathing turned to fast panting as she knew—knew—she was going to come again. His thrusts grew more powerful, sweeping her before them, pushing her up a mountain. Pinning her on the edge of a precipice over an abyss.

Her ass tilted up, begging for more, for one more, one more.

“All right, sweetie,” he murmured. As he slammed into her with his cock, her insides clenched around him, and this time, he didn’t withdraw. Instead, he pushed his finger deep, deep into her back hole, filling her completely. Throwing her off the cliff.

“Oh, oh, oh.” The sparkling nerves erupted with the fury of a wildfire, taking over her body, making her buck and cry out. The sensations ripped through her, the pleasure almost unbearable. She gripped the legs of the stool as she mewed and shook, unable to escape from his grip, his impaling finger, his cock.

She heard him laugh, echoed by Galen, and then he powered into her as he sought his own satisfaction. He felt even bigger. Huge. As she still shook from the strength of her orgasm, he pressed deep and groaned as he came.

And oh God, she loved that feeling, the knowledge that she, Sally, had given him that pleasure.