Light Switch

by Lauren Gallagher

  I gulped. “Right.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He sipped the wine, and my heart pounded just like it always did. I was vaguely aware of Matt watching us, his attention shifting back and forth from me to Scott, but for the most part, I was completely focused on Scott and his friend-to-Sir ritual. With every roll of his sleeves up his forearms, my ability to resist—my desire to resist—melted away. By the time he went for that second sip of wine, I was completely under his control.

  He set the glass down and picked up the towel. “Lay that across the bed.”

  I took the towel from him. “Which way?”

  “Long way. Parallel to the headboard.” Once the towel was in place, the edge hanging an inch or two off the side of the bed, Scott said, “Take off your shirt.”

  Excitement tingled at the base of my spine as I obeyed him. Stripping in front of the two of them, even at the same time, had long since ceased to make me nervous. Now, every inch of skin liberated of fabric exhilarated me. The two men who turned me on more than anyone in the world were here, in my bedroom, watching me disrobe, and I couldn’t get naked fast enough.

  Scott, of course, was in no hurry. “Now your belt.”

  Matt fidgeted, sucking in a breath when the buckle jingled. The hiss of leather escaping belt loops made both his hands and mine shake. Our eyes met for a fleeting second, just long enough for the hunger in his expression to register before Scott cleared his throat and drew my attention back.

  Piece by piece, stitch by stitch, Scott verbally undressed me. My hands shook a little more with every article of clothing I removed, and Matt shifted his weight once, twice, again. His breathing had quickened, as had mine. All the while, Scott’s tone never wavered from its flat, commanding terseness, and neither his posture nor his breathing betrayed the slightest hint that he was losing control. Because he wasn’t. He was Scott Moore. He didn’t lose control.

  The same couldn’t be said for Matt or me. Just this simple act of undressing had the two of us coming unraveled while Scott remained calm and collected.

  By the time I was naked, I couldn’t hide the way my hands and knees trembled. Matt leaned casually against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, but the way he bit his lip belied the façade of composure.

  Scott held up a blindfold and looked at Matt. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  Matt’s eyes widened. He hesitated, gulped, then shouldered himself off the doorframe and took the blindfold. Standing in front of me, he looked in my eyes, raising his eyebrows and inclining his head slightly in an unmistakable look of are you okay with this?

  I nodded. He raised the blindfold and slipped it on.

  I was blind the instant he put the black fabric over my eyes, but it wasn’t until his hands lifted off me that the darkness truly set in. Matt and Scott were still in the room, their presences still thrumming at the outskirts of my senses, but they could have been miles away for all I knew.

  No one moved. No one spoke. If I knew Scott, he’d gestured for Matt to be still and silent. If I knew Matt, he watched me in between casting glances at Scott, waiting for my Master to stop fucking with my head as he so loved to do.

  I breathed slowly and evenly, ignoring the way the universe tried to close in around me. Darkness is a funny thing. It’s huge, infinite, without boundaries, and yet it can still be so confining. Constricting. Claustrophobic.

  But I could handle it. I had safe words, and my hands were free if I was so inclined to take the blindfold off.

  If I was so inclined, which I was not.

  I took a deep breath and willed myself to relax, rolling my shoulders to relieve the tension that had crept in.

  Near silent movement beside me caught my attention. My senses zeroed in on it, and warmth above my skin made my nerve endings tingle a second before someone’s hand landed gently on my arm. Without speaking, he guided me to the bed.

  “Lie on your stomach.” Scott. It was Scott. “Over the towel.”

  I did, folding my arms on the pillow and resting my head on them. The towel was coarse, almost gritty against my skin, but it was the absence of contact on my exposed skin that held my attention.

  Scott said something to Matt, but I only heard enough to know he was speaking, not the actual words.

  “Will do,” Matt said, and he left the room.

  “Where’s he going?” I asked.

  Scott ran a fingertip between my shoulders. “Are you questioning me?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “That’s what I thought.” His fingertip continued drifting up and down my back, touching just lightly enough to raise the minute hairs on my skin. Then he leaned down and blew a cool breath on the small of my back, that whisper of air gently awakening every nerve ending.

  Muffled footsteps announced Matt’s return. The door clicked shut behind him.

  “Will this work?” he asked Scott.

  “Perfect.”

  A familiar crack-crunch-crack caught my attention. It took a second to place it, and when I did, I sucked in a breath:

  Ice cube tray.

  One of them walked around to the other side of the bed and sat next to me. Matt, I assumed, since Scott needed to keep the wax within arm’s reach.

  “Should I wait until you start?” Matt asked, confirming he was the one on the bed with me.

  “No, go ahead.”

  Ice made contact between my shoulder blades, and I sucked gasped. Slowly, the intense cold presence slid down my back, following the curve of my spine, the chill electrifying my senses.

  As Matt drew lazy patterns on the small of my back with the ice cube, I let my guard down. The cold consumed my awareness, my senses, and I nearly came up off the bed when the first scorching drop of wax fell directly between my shoulder blades. Biting my lip, I pulled in a long breath as Scott carved meandering lines of fire across my upper back.

  Matt slid the ice cube down my leg, teasing the back of my knee, my calf, and my ankle as Scott drizzled more stinging heat onto my skin. Hot and cold intensified each other, neither giving me the chance to get used to the other. In no time at all, the cloud of endorphins consumed me. Intoxicated me. Everything around me blurred into irrelevance, trumped by wave upon wave of pain-induced bliss.

  Every now and then, Scott stopped and carefully scraped away the dried wax, exposing my skin to fresh liquid pain. At one point, he removed the dried wax, and I expected the stinging heat again, but it was skin this time. Fingertips. Trailing gently down my side, the cool, soft touch registering as intensely ticklish.

  “Kristen, are you doing okay?” Scott’s voice sounded miles away.

  “Yes, Sir,” I murmured.

  “I think she likes this,” Matt said, chuckling.

  “Oh, she does.” Scott’s fingers drifted up the center of my back. “Don’t you, Kristen?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Matt closed his hand around my ankle. His grasp was firm, just firm enough to keep me from pulling free when he pressed the ice against the sole of my foot.

  Something profane slipped off my tongue. Again when he traced the arch of my foot, once more when he drew the intense cold along the inside of my ankle.

  Heat sizzled across one shoulder blade, then the other, then back. I might have whimpered or cried out or cursed, but hell if I heard any of it. Black fabric blinded me, intensity deafened me, and nothing existed beyond overwhelming hot-cold-hot-cold.

  I was vaguely aware of them speaking to each other, but the words were just white noise. The heat stopped. The cold left my skin.

  “Kristen.” My name separated Scott’s voice from the background. “Roll onto your back, but stay on the towel.”

  I hesitated. I understood his command, I just wasn’t sure how to obey it. It involved my arms and legs, that much I knew, but doing what? Moving, but how?

  “Now.”

  Confusion evaporated. It didn’t matter how complicated the command, it had to be obeyed, and I wasn’t going to cross my Master.r />
  I pushed myself up on shaking arms. My limbs were heavy, my bones made of liquid. With the blindfold on, I misjudged how close I was to the side of the bed, and my hand landed too close to the edge. I slipped, but Scott grabbed my arm and shoulder, steadying me.

  “Careful.” His tone was gentle now, and he kept a hand on me until I’d settled onto my back.

  Ice rattled again. Wax stung between my breasts, the fine, hot line slowly extending toward, then around, my navel. It drizzled back and forth across my belly, stinging skin that was unaccustomed to the bite of leather, let alone melted wax. I squirmed, whimpering softly as more endorphins crashed through my veins. My own voice faded into the white noise. I probably moaned, gasped, maybe even screamed. Tears—tepid compared to the fire and ice on the rest of my skin—slid down my face. The towel beneath me was mildly abrasive against my stinging skin, but I didn’t care. I just didn’t care.

  One of them gently parted my thighs with his hands. I sensed heat near my pussy and had a heartbeat to panic—he’s not putting wax down there, is he?—before lips closed around my clit. I gasped, grabbing handfuls of the towel and comforter as his tongue teased my clit. Compared to the scorching wax, his mouth was cool, almost cold.

  Hot wax dropped on my chest, and—

  “Oh fuck!” I gasped again. My spine arched off the bed as Matt’s tongue ran an ice cube around my clit. Oh God, no wonder his mouth was cool. He teased me with slow, irregular arcs and circles, and I couldn’t tell if my shivers came from the heat of his tongue or the chill of the ice. Probably both.

  Hot wax on my skin. Ice on my pussy. Matt’s lips and tongue. Endorphins. Euphoria. Ecstasy. Scott’s voice was the only thing keeping me from tumbling into sweet, sweet oblivion as he said, “Don’t come, Kristen.”

  Don’t come. With Matt’s skilled mouth and Scott’s perfectly rationed pain. Don’t come indeed.

  I dug my teeth into my lip, but that didn’t help. More pain meant more endorphins. More endorphins meant more…more…fuck, Scott, I can’t…

  “Don’t. Come.” The low growl made my entire body tense. My Master had spoken. It didn’t matter how impossible it was, he’d given a command and I’d be damned if I’d disobey it. No matter how much Matt warmed and cooled my clit, no matter how Scott triggered wave upon wave of endorphins, no matter how Matt’s fingertips teased my G-spot…

  I whimpered with frustration, clawing at the sheets and towel.

  With only one word, Scott would grant me release. Sooner or later, just as he always did, he’d say it, and my body would obey before my mind even knew he’d spoken.

  But he stayed silent. The ice melted in Matt’s mouth, and my spine melted a little more with every sweep of his tongue and drop of hot wax.

  Say it, Sir, please, I wanted to beg. I searched the silence for what he hadn’t yet said, searched the air for that intake of breath that would precede the word, the word, the one goddamned word that would let me fucking shatter.

  Please, Sir, please…

  The world exploded. Shaking, swirling, splintering into millions of tiny, electrified shards. It was pain and pleasure, tension and release, it was heaven, it was hell, it was perfect, and it just didn’t stop.

  Somewhere amidst the delirium, Scott’s voice echoed through my mind: “Come.”

  Chapter 29

  At some point that night, after the two of them have given me I didn’t know how many orgasms, the world more or less stopped spinning. As much as it ever did when I was in my bed between Matt and Scott, anyway.

  Scott had insisted on pulling the sheet up and having Matt get under it with me. “You’re not cold yet,” he’d said, “but give it a few minutes.”

  As always, he was right. The endorphins slowly wore off, and as they did, my body temperature fell. The cool water Scott brought for me didn’t help. With Matt beside me and the sheet over us, I didn’t get cold, but without them, I had no doubt I would have.

  Once I’d had a drink and caught my breath, Scott lifted my chin with two fingers. “You did well tonight. As always.” He smiled and I returned it, his approval sending a familiar rush of heat through my veins. He brushed a strand of hair out of my face and kissed me lightly. Then he looked at Matt. “I’m going to get the slow cooker out of here and cleaned out. I assume you don’t mind keeping her warm?”

  Matt chuckled. “You won’t have to twist my arm.”

  Scott laughed. He kissed my forehead, pausing long enough for us to exchange a brief look. Then he got up, collected the slow cooker and my empty water bottle, and left, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Once we were alone, Matt and I turned onto our sides and faced each other.

  “Scott was right,” he whispered. “You are fucking hot when you’re in… what did he call it?”

  “Subspace.”

  “Yes, that.” He touched my face and leaned in to kiss me. “It’s like watching you in a constant state of almost coming.”

  “That’s about what it feels like,” I slurred. My mind drifted back to everything they’d done to me this evening. The wax and ice had only been the beginning. I had no idea how much time had passed, only that I didn’t think there had ever been that many orgasms—theirs or mine—in this room in one evening.

  A pleasant tremor rippled through me.

  Matt touched my face. “Cold?”

  “No.” I paused, then grinned at him. “But if I told you I was, would you keep me warm?”

  He slid closer, draping an arm over me. “I will whether you’re cold or not.”

  “Such a gentleman.”

  “The hell I am.”

  Whatever response I might have had disappeared with the gentle touch of his lips to mine. After a long night of passionate, desperate roughness, the softness of his kiss now melted every bone in my body. For someone who could be so deliciously violent in bed, he could also be so, so gentle, and now I let myself get completely lost in his embrace, in his tender kiss. We didn’t come up for air until the opening door tuned both our heads.

  I looked up as Scott came in. My heart fluttered when our eyes met. Matt trailed his fingertips along my upper arm, and between his touch and Scott’s gaze, that familiar, insatiable tingle reignited at the base of my spine.

  But we didn’t get started again. Instead, Matt sat up. “As much as I’d love to stay, it’s getting late, and I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Scott sighed. “No rest for the sexually depraved.”

  Disappointment tugged at my gut, but I got up anyway. Like them, I had to show my face and be productive in the morning, so this couldn’t go on. That was probably just as well; my blood still burned hotter than the melted wax, and my body ached from being on my knees, my back, my knees again, and every other way Matt and Scott had had me. Any more of that tonight, and paramedics would be necessary.

  So our evening drew to a close.

  I pulled on my usual blue satin bathrobe and showed them to the door. Just stepping out of my bedroom and into my familiar hallway was surreal, like setting foot in an alien world. An alien world, or at the very least, a place I hadn’t visited in a few lifetimes. As it always did when I was with one or both of these men, the universe outside my bedroom had ceased to be, and now, one wall and corner at a time, its existence resumed.

  Scott left with a gentle kiss and a whispered “goodbye.”

  Once we were alone, Matt put his arms around me and kissed me.

  “Did you enjoy tonight?” I asked.

  He grinned. “As if you even need to ask.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t try to put a candy therm—“

  “Oh, shut up.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. Then he drew his fingertips down the side of my face. “Sometimes, I swear I can’t decide what’s hotter: watching you with him, or fucking you myself.”

  “Which makes nights like tonight that much more fun,” I said. “You get both.”

  A soft breath of laughter warmed my lips. “True enough, true e
nough.” He paused, leaning in to kiss me lightly. Then he sighed. “I really should go.”

  My shoulders slumped a little. “Yeah, I should get some sleep. Duty calls.”

  He chuckled and kissed me one more time.

  While he got his coat out of the hall closet, I looked in the mirror in the hall. The meaning of “just been fucked hair” had never been clearer, and inky trails of eye makeup marked all the places tears had run down my face. I tried to wipe some of the makeup away, but it didn’t want to budge.

  “Jesus, I look like hell,” I muttered.

  “Hmm?”

  “Now that you two are done with me, I look like hell.” I turned around, gesturing at my disheveled hair and makeup-stained face.

  Matt took a breath that was no doubt intended to give life to a smartass retort, but he stopped. In fact, he froze, his jacket still halfway onto his shoulders. The humor evaporated from his expression, leaving behind nothing but… intensity.

  “Matt?”

  He didn’t speak. Instead, he shrugged his jacket off. It landed on the floor with a thud that echoed in my chest, and I swallowed hard as he came toward me, never breaking eye contact. When he was close enough, he cupped my face in both hands. He drew a breath and parted his lips as if he was about to speak, but hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “You’re…” He slid his hands around to the back of my neck and drew me closer to him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and kissed me.

  Nothing about that kiss said “goodbye.” Nothing about it said he’d be leaving any time soon, no matter how sore and exhausted I was, I let my arms and lips tell him I’d take him up on it if he wanted to stay.

  We were breathless again, just as we’d been when we’d all collapsed in bed earlier. His forehead, long since cooled, touched mine.

  “I thought you had to go,” I whispered.

  “I do. But I...” He kissed me again.

  “I should…” Another kiss.

  “Me too…”