45 - If Only (Masters of the Shadowlands #8) Page 45

“Not a problem,” Vance said.

“Back as a pup, I dated a young thing whose daddy was a cop. My balls’d shrivel up at his glare because I knew he’d geld me if I made his baby unhappy.” Cullen gave the two Feds a very un-Cullenlike warning look. “I’m feeling a bit like that daddy just now.”

“Understandable. Warning received,” Galen said, drawing Sally’s attention back to his very, very disapproving gaze.

Disapproving? She saw that Vance had the same expression. Saw…oops. She hastily closed her eyes. Bad Sally.

“Your lack of discipline means we will now play longer,” Vance said, his voice low enough that the others wouldn’t hear. “You may come—if you can. Otherwise, you must ask for our help.”

Fine. She’d just go ahead and get off—quietly—and have this over. Why she felt embarrassed right now, she didn’t know. She’d scened with tons of Doms here, getting off in front of everyone. Master Z and the others had used her for demonstrations.

But she hadn’t been…hadn’t been the only submissive in a group of Masters who were having a serious discussion.

And she’d never been emotionally involved with any Doms. Now, it felt as if her feelings were in a washing machine and set on spin. Whirling around and around and around.

Maybe once she got off, they’d let her join the other submissives.

As Vance slowly withdrew his very slick fingers, she trembled at the exquisite sensation. How could she be embarrassed and yet excited at the same time…and her obvious arousal made her feel even more humiliated.

His fingers pushed back in, ever so slowly. And he kept it up, over and over.

Galen tugged on her nipples, pinching them right to the edge of pain, until her breasts were so swollen that they ached with tightness.

Vance’s thumb came down on her clit.

Every single nerve in her body flared into warp drive. She managed not to moan, but God, God, God, she needed to come. He wiggled his finger slightly, and the pressure grew, tightened, rolling toward her like a—

Vance lifted his hand; Galen stopped.

No. No nononononono. She didn’t halt her glare in time. Shit.

“Add one more,” Galen said to Vance—not to her—and slapped her breast lightly.

With the surprising burst of pain and the realization of exactly how they were punishing her, she felt her arousal sputter and die. Disbelieving, she stared at Galen.

With a slight smile, he widened his eyes at her.

Christ with a leather crop. Growling, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. And could swear she heard Master Dan laugh.

Vance pushed his fingers inside her, and she felt them drag across the front of her vagina. Rubbing firmly, occasionally moving in and out. Her insides tightened around the intrusion, loved the intrusion.

Galen must have licked his finger before circling her nipples. The air on her wet skin made her nipples tighten to rigid peaks.

Slowly she realized they really would use her how they wanted, in front of anyone they chose, despite her objections, despite what was “proper.” And the understanding dissolved the bones inside her body and turned her willpower to water.

And aroused the hell out of her.

Then Vance stroked his thumb over her clit. Just the side, but she was so sensitive, a touch was enough. Her muscles tightened as she neared orgasm. Her hips lifted.

The men stopped again.

A squeak of dismay escaped her. Everything in her lower half ached and burned with frustration. Her muscles quivered. How did they know she was close?

She realized her hands had fisted when Galen wrapped his calloused fingers around her hand and lifted it. He kissed her white knuckles, and his lips were soft. “I’m sorry this is hard on you, imp, but we won’t let you get away with disobedience. You can test us as much as you want; you’ll get the same response.”

Testing them? She hadn’t been…but, oh, she had. Every time they’d ordered her to do something, she’d disobeyed at least once or twice. Just to see… What? Why was she doing that?

In the same low voice, Vance said, “We care for you, Sally. You don’t have to misbehave to get our attention. It’s our pleasure to watch over you.” His words were like a soothing caress.

And then they started moving again. Driving her back up. Slower, this time. And as the haze of arousal filled her body, she heard Vance say under his breath, “I did rather like the pretty bows on the flogger.”

“It wasn’t your flogger, asshole,” Galen retorted. “Sally, sometime this week, I’m going to beat your ass with that flogger.” He rolled her nipples until she arched at the delightful pain. “And then I’m going to get you off—using it—as a reward for making me laugh.”

He did like to laugh; she knew it.

Her smile died as the two Doms used small caresses and pinches to drive her to the verge of orgasm. Her leg muscles were so tight they trembled as her arousal reached the edge of pain.

“Something you want to ask, sweetie?” Vance prompted.

Ask it. Dammit, ask it. “Please,” she whispered.

“This time, you need to spell it out,” Vance said. “Sally, hearing you ask will make me feel good.”

Her words tried to stop up in her throat, but it helped to know that she’d please him—if only she could overcome her past. She stuttered out, “P-please, will you”—God, why did her body cringe?—“make me come?”

“Good, good girl,” Galen murmured, and the sweetness of his deep voice washed over her like a blessing.

“Beautifully asked,” Vance agreed. “I’m proud of you, Sally.”

Galen caressed her breasts gently before his clever fingers closed on her tender nipples. Squeezing and releasing in burst after burst of exquisite pain.

Vance thrust, pulled out, pressed in. Each time, his thumb circled her clit, pushing her up, up. He rubbed his fingers just inside her entrance, reawakening the G-spot with a vengeance.

God. Her whole body went rigid as she shook, needing just another little bit. Please.

Vance’s gaze met hers, holding hers as he deliberately set his thumb on her clit and pressed down. Wiggled.

The spark set off a conflagration. Her body lit, burst into flame, and exploded. Wave after wave of pleasure whipped through her. Her neck arched as she screamed and swore and screamed.

After a wonderfully long time, she felt the waves die back. God, that felt good.

Then she heard Vance mutter, “Let’s try for seconds.” His fingers pushed in—three fingers—stretching her as his finger rubbed right on her clit. And like a giant storm surge, another orgasm hit, flattening everything before it.

Her own wails seemed to echo in her ears as she panted and quivered with aftershocks.

“Pretty girl,” Galen said. His hands were gentle on her breasts, circling and caressing her abused nipples. Vance was stroking her thighs.

After a minute, when she could actually breathe, Vance gathered her up into his arms. “You did well, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I thought I’d have to tease you for another half hour before you asked for help.”

The Dom had his own sadistic nature, cleverly concealed beneath a caring manner. She pinched him.

His answer was to silently slide his big hand between her legs again. To press against her oversensitive pussy. His smoldering gaze said he’d be perfectly happy starting the whole routine over again if that was what she wanted.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

The sun lines beside his eyes deepened with his smile.

Oh God, she really did love him.

Chapter Thirteen

In his office, Assistant District Attorney Drew Somerfeld sat behind his desk as he discussed a case with his newest intern.

All was well in the great metropolis of Manhattan. Crime continued. Law enforcement put the criminals behind bars. The Harvest Association was on hiatus, but he had a few million in bank accounts overseas. Another few million and he’d be ready to retire. He’d take Ellis with him, buy an island, and live like a lord.

“Thank you, Kathleen,” he said. “I think that covers it.”

She was a bright young woman. Quite efficient. Somerfeld started to stand before noticing the intern was fidgeting rather than exiting his office. “Something else?”

“I remember how angry you were about Lieutenant Tillman’s death.”

“I still am,” Somerfeld said in a tight voice. Mostly angry the bastard had gotten his claws into the Association. A shame the lesson hadn’t taken hold with the other members of the investigation team.

“You’ll be pleased to hear one of the so-called managers was arrested. He’s singing like the proverbial canary.”

Somerfeld froze for a second, then closed the folder on his desk as he forced a smile. “A manager? That’s excellent work. How did it come about?” Yes, he needed to know. His managers were to have shut down all communications.

“It’s that informant.” Kathleen’s smile was wide.

He wanted to slap her mouth hard enough to rip her lips away from her gopher-like teeth. “Go on.”

“The informant sent the captain e-mail addresses and files for three managers. One was arrested. The tech department is working to get locations on the other two.”

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