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.