Mike stood and turned his chair on a right angle. When he sat back down, he faced Reagan, his knees butting up against her own. “What’s racing through that head of yours, honey?”
“I, ah, was just thinking about the campaign. So much to remember.” She focused on the table. No way could she meet Mike’s stare.
Quinn’s nails scraped over the cheek of her bottom, right where it curved to the top of her thigh. “Try again, Reagan.”
Moisture dampened her panties at the unspoken threat.
She dragged her gaze from the table to her lap and curled her fingers over, digging her nails into her palms. Quinn’s hands, tanned, strong, masculine, made hers look so small and pale and utterly feminine.
Mike squeezed her knee, hard. “Now, sub.”
Sub. Her clit pulsed at Mike’s low order. The words tumbled out. “I was thinking about the three of us, you know, in a relationship. And if I wanted the whole Dom/sub stuff.”
Quinn’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Any conclusions?”
The firmness of his arm around her back acted like a brace for her courage. “I don’t know. I mean, yes, I…” She sighed, took a second to think over her words. “I’m attracted to you both. Have been from the start. You know that. But I’ve never been with two men. And you guys are kind of heavy duty, you know? One is intimidating. Two can be scary.”
“We’d never hurt you, sweetheart. And we’d kill any bastard that dreamed of doing so.”
She didn’t doubt Mike. Not for one minute. Didn’t that tell her something?
Quinn gave her a reassuring squeeze with his arm. “You’ve shown courage in admitting your fears, Reagan. Wariness isn’t a bad thing. We are intimidating bastards. It’s stood us in good stead in our careers. Kept us alive. Adapting to civilian life isn’t a natural transition for us. And all that is besides the fact we are Doms.”
Mike took one of her hands from Quinn. His fingers wrapped around hers before he lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed the skin over her knuckles, and then lowered his prize back to her knee.
“We’re not strangers, Reagan. We’ve shared meals together here at King’s Haven, attended the same events around town. Quinn and I watch you chatting with Chloe and Purdy, or even Noah and Flynn. Then you catch sight of us and run like we’ve cracked a single tail on your ass.” Mike’s mouth hardened at the memory.
Quinn grunted in agreement before saying, “Nervousness seems to rob you of the art of subtle evasion.”
“Maybe I just didn’t like being stalked.” She glared at Quinn.
He narrowed his gaze. “Darlin’, you think we missed the way your cheeks flushed pink? Or when you’d catch your breath and look anywhere but in our direction? Jesus, Reagan, we didn’t just graduate from Dom school.”
Mike stood and gently pulled her off Quinn’s lap. She stumbled against Mike’s tall frame. Her hands spread out on his chest. The steady beat of his heart thumped under her fingertips.
Behind her, Quinn’s body formed a solid warm block. His arms came around her front and with one smooth motion undid the knot of her shirt, then slid under the hem of her tank top. Once, twice, his thumbs brushed over her skin. Her stomach muscles quivered as Mike gripped her shoulder with one hand. His other curled around her nape. His hold was so firm, and possessive that it rendered her speechless.
“Look at me.”
Her gaze flew up to meet his.
“I’m a direct bastard. So I’ll tell you straight up how things lay for me. You intrigue me. I want to discover all the unique jigsaw pieces that together make you a whole person. But that’s only one part.”
He tightened his grip at the back of her neck, forcing her lips apart. Her moan sounded more like a contended purr, even to her own ears.
“I want to tie you to my bed so that all you can move are your hips. You’ll be spread wide so that nothing is hidden from us. Quinn’s a breast man. I love pussy. While he’s clamping your nipples and making you promise to be a good girl, I’ll take my time tasting every sweet inch of your pussy.”
Quinn’s hand slid higher up her body. His fingers brushed over her bra, capturing her nipple hidden under the lace between his thumb and forefinger.
He wouldn’t, surely, not here.
He pinched down.
She gasped, rising up on tiptoe. A low humming burn throbbed from the hard bud and raced straight to her core. Her fingers scrunched against Mike’s chest, grabbing at his T-shirt.
Dark mocha eyes flicked their gaze to her mouth, then back up. “Imagine how hard you’ll squeal when I suck your clit in my mouth and tease you until you beg for permission to come.”
The ground dropped a foot.
“You. Tied down. Helpless. One man with his mouth on your clit. Another sucking, biting, and clamping your nipples. That’s what I plan for you, Reagan. As a warm-up. And judging by what you said in the library, that’s what you want too.”
God. Have. Mercy.
“For the record, sweetness, I’m in agreement with Mike’s plan.”
She opened her mouth. “I d-don’t…” Her voice, catching like a rusty gate, finally swung free. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell us what you want, Reagan. We can take you home and see you to your door and no harm done. Your submission is a gift, given freely. Doms and subs play at force and there’s a time and place for that. But right now, you need to state clearly if you want our dominance. Once we put one foot over your threshold, then we’re in charge.” Mike dropped a kiss on her forehead, the gentleness of his touch in stark contrast to the hard line of his jaw. “I promise you have nothing to fear. You’re safe with us, honey.”
“You like a bite of pain.” Mike pushed two fingers between the lips of her pussy. They slid over her skin with shocking ease. “And here’s the proof.” He raised his fingers and admired their glossy wetness before putting them straight in his mouth.
He closed his eyes and groaned. “I want more.” Within seconds, he ended up between her thighs.
Hell, she’d been praying for this moment. She bent her knees and widened her legs for him.
“Such an eager sub.” His warm breath tickled the sensitive folds of her pussy.
Reagan lifted her head off the pillow. The thirst to see him there and not just hear his voice was too much.
Mike’s gaze darkened as he stared back at her. “My pussy, Reagan. Mine and Quinn’s.”
Her core clenched with need. She dropped her head. Quinn’s wide chest and face filled her vision as the spicy scent of his aftershave, smoky undertones with a musky lift, filled her senses.
Mike spread apart her pussy lips. The sound of his sharp inhale singed her ears.
No man had ever made such a fuss down there. In the nearly bare cupboard of her sexual history, only two men had ever gone down on her. Neither of them had brought her to climax.
Mike ran the tip of his tongue down one side of her labia, then up the other, and finished by circling her entrance. He repeated the pattern, over and again, each time edging in closer to her center and the primed bundle of nerves.
God, her clit felt huge. She licked her lips but couldn’t stay quiet against the desperate need growing with every second. A low whine rose from her throat.
“Easy, sweetheart.” Quinn flicked his nail over the top of one nipple, then the other. He leaned over and drew the left bud in his mouth, sucking it until it hardened to a point.
Just as she opened her mouth, Quinn grazed the top with his teeth.
Then Mike flicked his tongue over the tip of her clit.
“Sweet Jesus.” She clenched her hands into fists.
Mike alternated a flurry of short, rapid licks by plunging his tongue into her vagina. Each sweep of her rim set off a wave of tiny vibrations from her opening, out over her pussy and the curve of her inner thighs. The waves continued to build until a threatening storm drew her body so tight her muscles shook from the strain.
Quinn intensified his pitiless ravaging of her breasts. Both nipples throbbed from the constant pinching and sharp suckling. He rolled her nipple in his mouth, squeezing it with a precise amount of pressure, enough to make her whimper from the burn only his kind of pain could bring.
In all her life she’d never allowed herself beyond the barriers of good-girl behavior. Now she was craving pain? Even in a diluted form? In minutes, these men had carried her past decadent and straight into “burn in hell” fervor. God help her, she’d grasped it with greedy hands.
Mike plunged a finger inside her, swirling it against her vaginal walls. Then he added another, stretching her, rubbing that spot for a treasured second. Four, five times he stroked. His tongue flicked her clit, starting a constant rhythm in time with the stroke of his fingers.
She closed her eyes. How much longer? She couldn’t keep going. “Please, Quinn, Mike, I c-can’t. Please.” She sobbed.
Get closer. She curved her spine. More pressure. Lifting her bottom, she tried to rock her body. Just a couple more seconds...
Mike’s fingers trailed down an inch inside her thigh.
What was he—
Burning pain throbbed from a pinch. “Owww!”
“No topping from the bottom, sub,” Mike said.
She threw her head back against the pillow. “I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. This is the first time I’ve—” She gulped down a sob. “I mean, I’ve never c-come before, not this way.”
A warm breath fanned the spot on her abused skin. A soft kiss landed right on top. Then a line of kisses started all the way up from the curve of her thigh to the side of her labia, ending up on the hood of her clit. The sheer gentleness of the gesture lay in stark contrast to the power of Mike’s caress on her body.
“That kind of honesty deserves a reward. Quinn?”
Her tormentor lifted his mouth, releasing her nipple. His eyes crinkled at the edges. “Agreed. Come for us, sugar.”