Cherise Sinclair - If only

He broke his gaze long enough to look past her shoulder at his partner. “She’s ready. Let’s do it.”

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Vance reminded, and she realized she’d been holding her breath. At the sound of her gasping inhalation, the men laughed, low and deep.

Vance wrapped an arm around her and pinched her so-sensitive nipples. She clenched involuntarily, and he groaned. Then he straightened slightly, gripped her waist, and slid his thick cock from her asshole.

The devastating, wonderful, impossible sensation made her shudder. “Oh God!”

Galen pushed in, withdrawing when Vance surged back in. The sliding, the stretching, even the slight burn from both her asshole and abused butt was like a lightning storm of nerves that crashed over her. She had no control. She was too full.

She was taken. Taken. Taken.

Their pace increased, and yet, like a dance, they never missed a step. Shudders shook her as her body overwhelmed her mind, as the sheer sensation centered everything in that region as if a sizzling lightning strike had hit and stayed on, flaring the world to utter brightness.

Every little movement pushed her higher, closer to coming, and she fought it off. It would be…too much. Take the last bit of her senses from her. She shook her head. No.

“Stubborn little sub.” Vance sounded almost sympathetic. But he shifted his hand from her breast, down her stomach, lower, until his fingers slid through her wetness and slickly across her clit.

“Aaah!” Everything in her seized, throwing her into a whirlwind, a hurricane. The sensations spiraled up and up, setting every single nerve to firing in the most supreme burst of pleasure she’d ever felt. She writhed on them, unable to breathe.

A long wail escaped her as another wave hit. Her back arched, and each clenching spasm sent another engulfing sensation through her.

Vance gripped her waist, holding himself deep inside her.

Galen hammered into her, powerful and fast, until he made a guttural sound and she felt his cock jerking, shooting inside her.

And then Vance pulled out. He yanked her back onto his shaft, setting off new pounding waves of pleasure inside her. In and out in long, merciless thrusts of his thick cock. One hand still gripped her waist, but as he came with a growling roar in her ear, he pinched her clit. Hard.

Sally screamed as her body clenched around the impossible impalement. She exploded into another orgasm, crying as she shook from the force, unable to escape the restraints, the hands, the cocks.

Some distant time in the future, she blinked as the roaring in her head receded. Her head drooped; her arms trembled. Someone—her—was gasping for the humid air, dragging it in as if the moist air was a nectar.

After another minute, she realized Galen was stroking her hair, murmuring, his voice more gentle than she’d ever heard before. “Pretty pet, sweet Sally. Thank you for sharing.”

Her body was wonderfully satiated, but his words filled a well far deeper inside her, as if she’d been thirsty and hadn’t known.

Vance was running one hand up and down her back, his other arm around her waist, holding her up. “Good, good girl,” he was murmuring. “Brave girl.”

Both caressing her. Both focused on her.

Vance pulled out slowly, laughing under his breath as her body shuddered around him. After undoing her hands, he tucked her down on Galen, letting her lie limply on his partner’s chest. He ruffled her hair and walked away.

Using an immense strength of will, she managed to raise her head and look at Galen. “He—he’s leaving? Is he mad?”

“Not even close, Sally.” Galen cupped the back of her head, tucking her against his shoulder. His shirt was open, and her breasts flattened on his steely chest. Slowly, he was softening inside her, but they were still connected in the most intimate, wonderful way. He resumed stroking her hair, petting her absentmindedly. “Since we both enjoy holding you, we take turns. He was with you upstairs.”

“Oh.”

“Since you’re awake enough to ask questions, you may kiss me now.”

She tipped her face up to look. His black eyes were amused…and tender. No longer blazing like a bonfire, but warm enough to fill all the lingering cold spaces inside her.

And he lured her into a kiss like no other she’d ever received.

Oh, she was in trouble.

When Vance returned from work on Monday, he walked through the quiet house. Galen was still in a meeting, he knew, but Sally’s car was in the drive. No one in the kitchen or great room—except for Glock, who greeted him with an indifferent tail flick. Obviously not hungry. Gone were the I’ve-been-starving-for-days pitiful meows and ankle bumping. Looked like a little submissive was a soft touch.

Vance picked up the gray tom. “I think you’ve already put on a couple of pounds, cat.”

A slit-eyed smirk was his only answer.

He carried the cat with him and found Sally in the office working on her computer. With a smile, he wondered what mood she’d be in today.

Last Saturday, she’d been sweet. Accepting them, loving them. Afterward, she’d slept in their arms, snuggling against them both. She didn’t play favorites. As far as he could tell, she liked them both. No matter how often she and Galen butted heads, they also were a lot alike. And her tender affection was good for his partner.

Felt fucking good to Vance, as well.

And he liked that sassy mouth of hers, the attitude she could put on like a uniform. Her conversations with Glock had him wondering if the cat really could communicate.

She’d fished with him early Sunday for a long, contemplative hour and seemed as contented as he’d ever seen her.

Last night, he’d heard her shriek and had run into the office. The room had been empty except for her, a wide-eyed, furious young woman ranting about health potions and being surrounded by demons, abandoned by her comrades and left to die.

She had quite a mouth on her sometimes.

And now she’d assumed another personality—the focused intellectual typing so fast she hadn’t even heard him walk in.

“Sending out job applications?” he asked.

She jumped as if he’d goosed her with a cattle prod. “Vance!” Her hands flicked over the keyboard. The screen changed from an e-mail program to a document. “I didn’t expect you back so early.”

She spun in the chair to face him. Dressed in faded jeans and a Darth Vader T-shirt with the logo: The Dark Side made me do it!!! Her hair was pulled back with a band. Makeupless. Not out to impress anyone, was she?

“It’s actually rather late, sweetheart.” If he’d ever seen a guilty expression, she was wearing one. But they hadn’t told her not to communicate with her friends. “You have the code for the wireless, right?”

Her expression eased. “Yes. Thank you for letting me use it.”

So that wasn’t it. Well, unless she was running an e-mail banking scam and asking recipients to send her a few thousand to save her baby from starving, he didn’t need to be involved. Neither he nor Galen restricted a submissive’s communications—and he wanted her to keep in touch with her friends. “How good are you with construction?”

“Well, not too bad with basic skills, but I can’t read a diagram and make it come out right.”

He smiled and tugged her hair. “Top of your class and you don’t do diagrams?”

“Hey, flow charts are one thing, spatial skills another. I can get lost in a cornfield.” She wrinkled her pert nose. “Bet they don’t let you into Fed school if that happens.”

“Nope. Takes all the fun out of a car chase if you get turned around.” He held his hand out, pleased she didn’t hesitate before putting her hand in his.

As he pulled her to her feet, her eyes held curiosity with just a touch of trepidation. Good. She was the type of submissive who would do better if kept on her toes. But he needed to be sure she knew she was valued.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“We’d planned to use the cabana for guests, but we’re going to convert it into a dungeon instead.”

“It will make an awesome dungeon. And be a lot nicer than those typical fake stone wall ones. What can I do to help?”

He gave her a slow smile. “I thought I’d take you on as a carpenter’s apprentice…so to speak.”

She gave him a puzzled look.

“Every schoolgirl should learn a trade to fall back on.” Teacher-schoolgirl had been listed as one of her favorite role-plays, and he had a fondness for that kind of power exchange. He looked her up and down. “I left a pair of overalls for you on my bed. Schoolgirl socks and tennis shoes. Braids.”

Her eyes lit up. When she was happy, she almost sparkled.

He added, “Meet me in ten minutes in the cabana.”

“Yes, Sir!”

SHE’D WORRIED THAT he’d make her wear ugly farmer’s overalls. She grinned at what he’d left on his bed. Yes, the material was denim with a bib front and shoulder straps. But without a T-shirt, the bib barely covered her nipples. Lacing on each side of the waist made it formfitting. And rather than long pants legs, the bottom was a skirt. The hem ended just short of her butt. She put on knee-high socks and denim sneakers. Her hair hung in two long braids. No makeup. Just to be contrary, she pulled on a pair of bright pink panties.

Whoever thought one of the stern Feds could be into role-playing? A check in the mirror showed her grin. Poor guy. He’d never seen her playing schoolgirl, or he’d know better.

She paused on the stairs as she remembered Vance’s really big, really strong hand slapping her bottom. That had hurt.