by Lacey Savage
Cole sighed. “I know you need more than I can give you.”
“And you thought making me do something so degrading was the solution?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Erik assured me, and I snorted yet again. “I mean it. Nothing degrading or humiliating. BDSM is not about any of that.”
Breaking free of my husband’s hold, I crossed my arms over my chest once more. “It is for some people.”
“True.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “But then it’s consensual. What turns someone on is personal. We can start out slow. Very vanilla, and work our way up to bolder, more daring aspects of the lifestyle.”
I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and lowered my gaze. Why did he have to be so calm and make so much sense? Cole clearly wanted this, but the instruments in this room frightened me to the core of my being.
Cole grasped my shoulders. He slid one finger beneath my chin and forced me to look at him. “I trust Erik. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t.”
Trepidation formed a lump in my throat. I dared a glance past my husband at Erik, who now lounged on the edge of the bench, one leg folded beneath him. He toyed with the whip languidly, his fingers running up and down the length of the leather thong like a lover’s caress.
I shivered slightly. Instead of picturing the whip striking flesh, I imagined those fingers gliding up my thigh. My pussy tightened in response and heat pooled between my legs.
I met Cole’s gaze again. “Did you think this was the next step in couples counseling?” I didn’t let him answer before shrugging off his touch and squaring my shoulders. “No.”
“It’s your choice, of course.” It wasn’t Cole who had spoken, but Erik.
“Damn right.” I blew out a breath. “My choice, my house. Get out.”
“Ginny…” Cole reached out for me again.
I moved just beyond his grasp.
“The lady has made her decision.” Erik stood, placed the whip down on the bench. He flicked a speck of invisible lint off his leather pants, running his fingers tantalizingly close to the bulge of his cock. “I’ll leave.”
I refused to move out of the way as he closed the distance between us. Rather than storming past me as I’d expected, now that I’d wounded his male pride, Erik stopped, his elbow brushing mine.
“It’s too bad, though,” he mused, head tilted to the side like a man who’d just remembered something important. “I think you would have enjoyed the results of your training.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.”
“Well, sure, there are some women who don’t relish orgasming on demand, but none I’ve ever met.”
My head snapped toward him. Did he say…orgasming on demand?
“I think you’ve got her attention.” Cole moved to stand next to Erik.
Side by side, the similarities between them were striking. They were both tall, lean, muscular. Powerful, stubborn and determined. Faced with their united front, my resistance vanished like water in the desert sand.
I frowned. Was it even possible? I hadn’t had an orgasm in years. Not with my husband, not solo, not at all—at least not until my world had shattered on that piercing table. I couldn’t explain what had happened, but I knew I’d give anything to experience that feeling over and over again. At Cole’s hands, on his cock, with his tongue spreading me open.
“Maybe,” I said slowly, testing the word. I still couldn’t believe I was agreeing to this, but the idea that this man could teach me to have orgasm after orgasm made me woozy with hope. “But nothing degrading, nothing shameful, nothing demeaning. Can you do that?”
Erik nodded. “You have my word.”
“Tell me what you have planned.”
Chapter Four
I had expected to get right down to business. The business of learning to orgasm, that is.
Once again, Cole and Erik surprised me.
“Let’s get a drink,” Erik had suggested, and half an hour later we were sitting on our bland, coffee-colored living room couch set, holding tumblers half-filled with Cole’s favorite brand of whiskey. To anyone peeking through the windows, we’d look like old friends catching up. And if Erik’s attire seemed strange, well, a passerby could chalk that up to eccentricity.
I, however, knew better. I tried to keep my gaze glued on the contents of my glass but it kept straying over to Erik and Cole, who lounged comfortably across from me. Erik had tossed one arm over the back of the couch, while my husband sat with his feet up on the coffee table. We’d bought that couch because it could seat four people. Cole and Erik took up the entire seating surface. I perched on the edge of an armchair across from them, feeling jittery and awkward.
Erik and Cole chatted about the changes on their team, and the new guy who’d been added as a third-line center. Though they spoke to each other, they watched me surreptitiously from underneath their lashes, as though waiting for my contribution to the conversation. My eyes had glazed over when the topic turned to hockey, yet my body was anything but bored.
“Can’t we just get to it already?” I snapped, my voice sounding impossibly loud.
“When we’re ready for you, and not a moment sooner.”
The authority in Erik’s tone made me wince. I shifted uncomfortably on the chair but snapped my mouth shut. Was this part of my training? I had no idea, so I crossed my legs, applying pressure to my throbbing clit, and waited.
Neither man addressed me for another hour. By that time I was ready to jump out of my skin at the briefest invitation. I watched them feverishly, growing more and more attuned to their movements, their body language, the tonality shifts in their voices. The endless hour had given me a good opportunity to examine Erik, and I found myself fascinated by his large hands and the dusting of hair across his knuckles. I pictured him holding that whip again and towering over me as I lay naked beneath him.
A ripple started low in my belly and spread outward. Cream coated the cotton of my panties, and to my complete and utter mortification, I could smell my own arousal on the air.
I bolted to my feet, intending to get a refill for my drink.
“Sit,” Erik said. He continued his conversation with Cole, but I couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been speaking to me.
I dropped back onto the armchair and placed my glass on the coffee table, a few inches away from Cole’s feet. Neither man had looked at me in much too long. I fisted my hands and gritted my teeth. This was humiliating. Wasn’t this entire experience supposed to be about me? About giving me pleasure? Helping me orgasm? I didn’t see how being ignored for hours was doing anything of the sort.
“That wrist shot you took past Andreiev this week was something else.” Erik tilted his glass in Cole’s direction. “He never saw it coming.”
Cole shrugged, but beneath his modesty I could see a hint of pride in the hard set of his shoulders. “I’ve scored a few points off pull-and-drag shots like that in the past. I saw an opening and took it.”
“So you didn’t get lucky?”
Cole bristled. “I’m good, that’s all I’m saying.”
“He could have turned pro after college,” I put in, desperate to be heard. “But then his dad got sick and he quit to take care of him.”
Cole’s gaze darkened but he didn’t look at me. Neither did Erik. I had the sudden urge to jump up and rip off my shirt, just to see if that would get a reaction from either of them.
“Andreiev is a good goalie, though.” Erik looked pensive as he stared into his glass. “Too bad he’s not on our side. We could have used him a few weeks ago when we went up against those corporate teams that kicked our asses.”
“Robinson’s not bad. He’s just lazy, that’s all. He could have stopped a few more shots if he’d been paying attention.”
“Screw this.” I picked up my glass and stood, pausing for a moment to see if Erik would stop me again. He didn’t, so I marched over to the adjoining kitchen then slammed my g
lass on the counter.
“When was the last time Virginia cooked for you?”
I stilled with my hand on the water faucet.
“A week ago, she made pork chops.”
“Naked?”
Cole choked on a sip of his drink, and I blanched.
“Uhh…no. She was fully clothed.”
“That’s too bad.”
My heart picked up speed. I was keenly aware of Erik standing, moving toward me. I turned on the water as high as it would go, hoping the jet would drown out the sound of the blood rushing in my ears.
Erik crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the kitchen counter, a few steps away from where I stood.
“Strip,” he said, with the authority of a man used to being obeyed.
I shut off the faucet and wiped my hands on a kitchen towel. “You can’t be—”
“If I wanted to have a discussion, I’d have asked you a question. Strip,” he repeated. “Make me tell you again, and there will be consequences.”
I ran my tongue over my suddenly dry lips. What kind of consequences? And why did the thought of finding out make my blood heat further?
I hesitated, unsure of myself. I thought Erik would push, demand and cajole, but he simply stared as though he had all the time in the world and the patience of Job.
I glanced at Cole for help and found him grinning from ear to ear. He hadn’t moved from the couch, but he had removed his feet from the coffee table and now leaned forward, fingers loosely twined between his knees, as eager as I’d ever seen him.
My labored heartbeat seemed to still while I forced my hands to move. I couldn’t look at either of them, so I stripped quickly, quietly, shedding pants and shirt to stand before the sink in nothing but my cotton bra and panties.
“The rest,” Erik prompted when it became clear I had no intention of shedding the final layers.
I swallowed hard as my fingers went to the clasp of my bra. The tiny hoops Jesse had inserted through my newly pierced nipples pushed against the fabric, but I knew Cole was too far away to discern the odd shapes.
Erik, however, missed nothing.
“Well, well. I do believe the lady’s been hiding something from us.”
Cole stood then, curiosity written on his handsome features. Before he could come much closer, I sucked in a deep breath and unclasped the hook holding the bra closed, then let the material fall.
Cole gasped. “Ginny…” His voice registered shock, but something else too. Desire, maybe. A hint of reverence.
“Surprise,” I said, the word coming out flat and strained. “I had it done in San Francisco. My anniversary gift to you.”
Silence stretched between us until I felt it in every pore. As Cole gaped, my nipples pebbled and throbbed, the slight ache sending a dart of need down through the center of my body and straight to my core.
And then Erik laughed, shattering the stillness. The sound echoed off the walls and sent goose bumps along my skin.
He slapped Cole on the shoulder. “And you were worried about her.” His laughter sounded genuine, which stunned and offended me just a little.
To get him to stop, I hooked my fingertips beneath the elastic band of my panties and slid them down my hips. I felt both men’s gazes glide over me, their perusal as physically potent as though they had touched me with their hands.
Erik’s nostrils flared and a muscle pulsed in his jaw. “Continue.”
My eyes widened in confusion. I was completely bare from head to toe. What more did he expect me to do?
His gaze shifted to my hair, and I understood. I unclipped the velvet-covered barrette. The silky fall of dark waves slid over my shoulders and down my back.
Erik nodded his approval. “Now, lunch is on you.”
* * * * *
As it turned out, that wasn’t just a figure of speech.
After digging through the refrigerator, I had discovered just enough ingredients to throw together a few turkey sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but neither Erik nor Cole seemed to mind.
Cooking in the nude would have been much worse if I’d been frying bacon, but smearing mayo on slices of bread wasn’t exactly dangerous. At first I’d thought I would spontaneously combust from the embarrassment flooding my skin, but that worry had passed quickly, leaving in its wake a pleasant, throbbing glow I rather enjoyed. Now I just felt…powerful. Seductive. Alluring.
It had to be the nipple rings. Without them, I would have just been mousy, plain Ginny. That woman would have never stripped for a stranger, or paraded around her kitchen wiggling her bare bottom as she washed lettuce in the sink. But the woman who had bared her breasts at the tattoo parlor and had come hard on the piercing table…well, she was capable of anything.
I felt Cole and Erik’s gazes on me as I sauntered from the toaster at one end of the room to the fridge at the other. The men sat on high barstools along the island counter that divided the kitchen in half, and they’d long ago stopped talking about hockey. I hid the urge to grin. When I walked past Cole, I heard his labored breathing and knew if I glanced between his legs I would find his cock swollen and thick, the long, hard ridge pressed tightly to the strained fabric of his jeans.
“Lunch,” I announced as I set their plates in front of them with a small flourish. I was absurdly proud of myself for not crumbling under the pressure of what Erik had asked of me.
I guess this made me some kind of exhibitionist. I tilted my head as I considered that. Maybe I’d find a safe facet of my sexuality to explore in fantasies yet.
“Slice them smaller. In bite-sized pieces.”
I raised my eyebrows and glanced down at their sandwiches. They looked fine to me. I had cut them diagonally, creating two perfect triangles on each plate. Then I’d added a handful of chips and half a pickle to each serving, creating the perfect deli platter.
A quick look at Erik told me arguing would be more trouble than it was worth, so I stifled my sigh, took the plates back and did as he’d asked. I even sliced the pickle into finger-width strips.
No sooner had I placed the plates on the island than Erik picked them up again and moved them to the counter alongside the sink.
A twitch started beneath my left eye, and I braced myself for another ridiculous command.
“Climb on.”
It took me a moment to realize he was pointing to the wooden countertop of the kitchen island. Baffled, I knelt onto one of the two remaining empty stools so I could hop onto the counter. I cringed, since this wasn’t exactly hygienic, but ignored my trepidation and gave Erik a taunting smile.
Bring it on.
And he did.
“Lie down.”
My pulse quickened a fraction as I swung my legs onto the counter and did as I was told. My feet hung off the edge, but otherwise I fit perfectly on the wooden slab.
A tingly shiver ran across my skin. Parading around was one thing. I’d been in control of my every move. But lying here like this, naked and vulnerable, caused me to fist my hands at my sides. Anticipation jolted me with bolts of adrenaline, and the truth of my actions chased those with darts of lust.
I watched Erik’s movements as he picked up the plates then returned to where I lay.
“Hands up. Lace your fingers behind your head.” He waited until I did as he commanded, then he grabbed a bite-sized piece of sandwich and placed it between my breasts.
I sucked in a breath as he chose another morsel and positioned it an inch lower, toward my bellybutton. Then another and another, until he had covered my body with the contents of both plates. Pickle juice ran down my right thigh. A chip lay cradled in the hollow of my throat. I tried to control my breathing, since each time I filled my lungs something slid off. Erik showed an immense amount of composure as he placed each piece back where it belonged, but I could tell he only had so much patience remaining.
“What now?” I hardly recognized my voice. It came out quivery and husky, filled with need.
“Now we feast.”
/> He didn’t tell Cole what to do. Maybe that same unspoken communication I’d seen pass between them in the basement sufficed here too, or maybe they had planned every moment of this encounter long before I’d walked through the door. In silence, they both moved to stand on either side of me. They lowered their mouths, and the first touch of their lips against my overheated flesh nearly had me bucking off the counter.
I stopped my back from arching just in time to keep from ruining all of Erik’s hard work. Instead, I sank my nails deep into my palms and fought to control the quivers running through me.
Cole’s mouth grazed my ribs, just below my left breast. My newly pierced nipple throbbed, sending a flare of pure lust deep into my cunt. My arousal intensified. Cream slid along my slit, down to my ass.
I cringed. I’d definitely need to scrub this counter after we were done.
Erik’s mouth moved down one side of my waistline as Cole’s trailed a path down the other. The men moved in unison, their hot lips marking me, branding me with each soft sweep across my flesh. They paused to chew and swallow each bite, then returned to my body, teasing, licking and caressing before moving on to the nearest morsel.
Cole’s next nibble came perilously close to my pussy. He claimed a chip that lay just below my bellybutton, then progressed lower to swirl the tip of his tongue just above my clit.
I gasped, a tremor running through me.
Erik nibbled his way up the side of my breast. Both men had been careful to avoid my still-healing nipples, though I desperately wished one of them would tug on the small rings. Just once. Just enough to summon a flash of pain and cause it to stream across my body.
“Your trigger word is honey,” Erik murmured. “When we’re through with you, just hearing the word will make you come.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my throat. The man was certifiably insane.
“Honey,” he repeated, his voice silky and seductive in my ear. “Say it.”
I didn’t believe a thing he told me, but neither did I want him to stop. “Honey.”
