by Nikki Sloane
I was still kind of hazy on where things stood with the three of us. Clay had said it was okay for me to have feelings for Travis, but he’d also told me he was jealous. Plus, he’d been worried enough about losing me he’d declared an emergency to his work and rushed home.
My feelings for both men were getting more complicated by the minute.
The prototype chair had been moved to the corner and the folding table we’d used the first time we’d played together stood in its place, waiting. I walked to it and skimmed my hand across the top, letting my fingers trail over the soft, smooth material, my fingertips following the line of a seam.
I hadn’t been able to do much admiring of it last time, but like all his other work, the table was exquisite. Steam filled my body as I remembered how the scene had played out. Would his plan for tonight be similar to what we’d done last time?
The stairs creaked as two pairs of footsteps came down them, and then Clay appeared, followed by a pensive-looking Travis.
The muscles in my center tightened. It was the first time we’d been together in the same room since the night at the club, and things were so different now. Travis’s gaze swept the room, found me, and zeroed in, which made my muscles squeeze harder still.
The men were both incredibly handsome, but in their own way. Travis’s hulking frame and strong jawline made him more widely accepted as attractive. He was the magazine cover hunk, whereas Clay was leaner. There was more mystery surrounding him, hidden behind his glasses and his cryptic expression.
It was impossible to decide who was more appealing.
“We have some things to talk about,” Clay said, casting a glance toward the other man. “I thought we could work through it with a scene.”
My pulse skittered into overdrive and I was so into the idea, I could barely get my words out. “All of us, playing together?”
He drew in a deep breath. “No.” He made a face and amended his statement. “Not exactly. We’ve each had a session one-on-one, and I’ve gotten to enjoy watching the two of you together. I think if we reverse the roles tonight, it could be helpful.”
All the air was sucked out of the room and the thermostat cranked to a million degrees. I felt flushed as my gaze bounced between the men. “You want Travis to watch us?” He’d told me he was a private person and he’d shied away from physical stuff with me at the club, but . . . he was clearly comfortable with Travis. He’d said he’d trained him, after all. “Like, a demonstration?”
Clay shook his head, and his posture was stiff. It announced whatever he was about to say, he was uneasy revealing it. “I think it would be good for him to see us together, to remind him that I am your partner too.”
His tone was so even and measured, it was impossible to know how he meant it. Was this supposed to be punishment for Travis? Or was it Clay’s attempt to prove he deserved equal status in our developing trio?
“And it’d be good,” he added more directly, “for him to work on his self-control.”
The newly discovered submissive part of me shivered with pleasure at his scolding tone, and Travis looked away. He wasn’t happy with himself, or the way his mentor had called him out.
“What about you, Travis?” I asked. “Do you want this?”
It was the first test to see if Clay’s rules were officially gone, and the atmosphere was tense until Travis’s attention turned to me. He set his hands on his waist and shifted his weight to one side, striving for a casual stance.
“Yeah,” he said. “If that’s what it takes for him to accept my apology.”
The intensity of his stare was absolute. He’d trained to become a dominant, but there was clearly some God-given talent Travis had been born with, because I had to hold in my shudder of enjoyment. He looked at me the same way Clay did.
Like I belonged under his care and nowhere else.
In the silence, it became apparent both men were waiting on me, so I lifted my chin and leveled a look at Clay. “Are the roles completely reversed? Travis is directing the scene?”
Clay did his best to hide his flinch because the idea filled him with disdain. He wouldn’t take orders from someone else, but he played it off like there was a simple reason. “No. I already have the scene planned.”
“Hmm.” I murmured it as a thinly veiled, how convenient. “All right.”
He looked pleased, went to the rolling stool tucked under the workbench, and pulled it out, gesturing to it. “Travis.”
The taller of the two men didn’t look all that comfortable as he walked past me toward Clay. He watched his mentor as if he expected the stool to be rolled out of the way at the last second as he sat, but thankfully that didn’t happen.
Satisfied that Travis was settled, Clay’s attention went to me, and I held breath tightly in my lungs as he approached. He moved to stand behind me, making sure not to block Travis’s view as his hands closed on the back hem of my shirt and began to lift.
I raised my arms and let him pull it over my head while my gaze was fixed on Travis. His hand that had been resting on his thigh balled into a fist. I wore a simple white bra that wasn’t at all sexy, and he’d seen me naked several times, but it was like I surprised him every time with how good I looked. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was already struggling to keep his hands to himself.
“I’ll accept your apology,” Clay’s hands encircled my waist, and his fingers worked the button of my pants, “when you accept mine.”
Travis gave him a dubious look. “For what?”
“The rules I made you follow. I’d thought we’d only need them that first time,” his voice was shaded by embarrassment, “but I enjoyed how they gave me all the power. That wasn’t fair to either of you.”
My pants were undone and coasted down my legs, and he held his arm out for me to use as support while I stepped out of them. Travis’s gaze traced every inch of the white silk covering me.
Clay wasn’t as distracted as the other man; he was intent on getting me naked. “Lilith and I talked a little before you arrived, and I told her it was okay if she has feelings for you.”
Surprise made Travis’s eyes widen. His lips parted to speak, but then the clasp of my bra was undone, and my breasts tumbled free. As the bra fell to the ground, Clay’s warm hands closed around me and squeezed hard enough to make me melt back into him. Travis stared at us, transfixed.
“And then what did you say to me?” Clay’s head was beside mine, and he tilted down to drop a kiss on the place where my neck met my body.
I shivered and my breath went shallow. Travis was a statue as he watched another man’s hands on me, and his expression said he both loved and hated it.
“I said I have feelings for you too,” I admitted.
One of Clay’s hands moved down, his fingertips skimming over my taut stomach, then slipped inside the top of my panties. My heart beat faster and faster as he continued his descent.
“And I like what we have,” I whispered. He stroked his fingers between my legs, and I moaned. “Oh, my God—I like it so much.”
Clay gave a grunt of satisfaction while he rubbed where I was hot and damp, sending a shower of goosebumps down my legs. “Yeah. I like it too.”
Travis watched the hand inside my panties as if he were hypnotized, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.
“What about you, Travis?” Clay’s tone was full of seduction. “Do you like what we have?”
The question carried double meaning. On the surface, he was asking about the arrangement. But beneath, he could be taking about me. That the ‘we’ meant he and Travis were a pair and they possessed me jointly.
There was no hesitation, and although the word was quiet, it detonated like a bomb. “Yes.”
My underwear was pushed down across my thighs so it was out of Clay’s way, and perhaps as a reward to Travis, who could see now exactly how the other man was touching me. It was tame in comparison to all the things Clay had
seen Travis do to me, but it was somehow just as intense. The role reversal made everything feel brand new.
“Good,” Clay said. “Since it’s been working for us, let’s modify the arrangement.”
I swallowed a breath and my eyebrows tugged together. “How?”
“I was thinking Travis and I could be equal partners. If he wants to lead a scene with you, I’m okay with that.” He tacked it on to the end like he’d just thought of it, even though I highly doubted it. “As long as I get to watch. Would you like that?”
Oh, my God.
“Yes,” Travis and I said together.
Lava pumped through my veins at the idea, and I worried I was going to combust as I watched desire flood Travis’s expression.
“And, obviously, you can talk to each other going—”
“Can I kiss her?” Travis asked in a rush.
The hand teasing me froze. Was it the interruption that bothered him, or the question? Clay’s tone was biting. “You did yesterday, didn’t you?”
Travis’s gaze shifted away, and he cleared his throat. “And, uh, this afternoon.”
“Doesn’t sound like you care if you have my permission.”
The heat of Clay’s body behind me slid away, leaving me cold and lonely. It felt like punishment, and I deserved it, didn’t I? With what Travis and I had done, it seemed like our kissing had bothered him the most.
“I’m sorry,” Travis said. “You gave me clear boundaries, but I did what I wanted anyway.”
Clay went to the workbench and retrieved the coil of black rope that rested there. “Yeah. That’s why we’re going to work on your self-control tonight.” He came back to stand in front of me, and his voice dropped low. “Hands together.”
As I complied, it improved my posture, and my underwear slipped down to my ankles. It was strange to be naked while both men were dressed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It helped with how Clay stared at me, and the way his shoulders rose and fell with his uneven breaths.
The rope was tied around my wrists, and it wasn’t surprising how efficiently Clay moved as he threaded the thick cord back and forth in a figure eight, creating layers up my forearms like cuffs. When he seemed satisfied, he knotted it off, but left a long tail.
His voice was deep and commanding and meant for me. “Yesterday, I told you I’d give you so many orgasms you’d beg me to stop, but you didn’t keep up your end of the deal, did you?”
I was uncomfortable with my guilt. “No, I didn’t.”
“There has to be consequences for that.” Dark anticipation lit his eyes. It said I might not enjoy what he had planned, but he certainly would. “On the table,” he ordered. “On your back.”
For emphasis, he gave a tug of the ends of the rope he was holding, pulling me along like I was his captive. Was it wrong to like how it made me feel? Because I did. I left my underwear behind on the floor as I marched toward the beautiful piece he’d set up in preparation for the scene. When I reached it, I turned and sat, my skin quietly squealing against the cool leather as I shifted into position.
I hadn’t finished settling down before Clay threaded the loose end of the rope through the metal handle at the table’s end and pulled, stretching my arms up. The cord was taut, vibrating subtly as it was tied off.
Clay could have asked for Travis’s help with securing me to the table, but he didn’t. Maybe he liked doing it himself, or perhaps he wanted the other man to feel like an outsider, looking in. Clay wasn’t able to do anything when he watched from Florida, so maybe he wanted Travis to experience the same thing.
Clay stepped back and his gaze swept over my body, which was naked except for my heels, and it stoked the fire that had been flickering inside me.
I waited to be punished.
Was eager for it, even, because I suspected it’d release all the negative feelings I’d been struggling with. The guilt, the shame . . . the tension of wanting both men and worrying how that’d make the other feel if they found out.
As I stared up at the ceiling, I wondered what form my consequences would take. A cane? Nipple clamps? Clay turned and strode across the room, and I lifted my head to watch him go. Travis studied him too as the man approached. Although we could talk to each other now during a scene, it felt disrespectful to do it, and he looked at Clay with anxiety.
Like he worried he was going to be asked to deliver my punishment.
But Travis wasn’t Clay’s destination. A mini fridge sat to the side of the workbench, which he opened and pulled out a Ziplock bag from the freezer compartment. I only got a glimpse of what was inside before he shut the fridge, set the bag down on the workbench, and picked up a leather work glove.
The inside of the bag seemed to be ice, only it wasn’t shaped in a cube.
An icicle?
My stomach bottomed out and my mouth went dry as he opened the bag and pulled the thing out. It was long and shaped like a popsicle, rounded at one end, and there was no doubt in my mind what he intended to do with it.
It scared me how much the idea turned me on.
EIGHTEEN
Did this idea turn Travis on too? He eyed the shaft of ice in Clay’s hand and shifted, making the stool squeak beneath his weight.
Clay slipped on the glove, probably to prevent his fingers from getting too cold, but also to help him keep his grip. The ice was already glossy, as if it had begun to melt in the freezer. He carried it around the table to the far side, so that once he began, he wouldn’t block Travis’s view.
He’d said they were going to work on his control, and I got the feeling it was about to be tested.
Clay cast a glance down at me on the table, my bound wrists above my head. “I assume you haven’t done temperature play before.”
My voice was hushed. “No.”
He turned the icicle over so it was tip-down, and dangling over my chest. “I asked you to do something for me, and you said you would, but you didn’t. So now we have an issue of trust.”
A droplet of water formed on the bottom of the icicle and broke free, landing just to the side of one of my nipples. I flinched at the cold and the damp track it left as it dripped down my side.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He asked it in a hypnotic voice. “Do you trust me?”
I peered up into his eyes, and for the first time, I wished he weren’t wearing glasses. Even though I could easily see through the lenses, I didn’t like anything between us. His intense stare was so deep, it went on forever.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I trust you.”
I’d been so focused on him, I’d forgotten about the ice hovering above until a new drip splashed onto my skin, this time hitting its target and making me startle. A faint smile twisted on his lips just before he bent at the waist and licked the drop from my hardened nipple.
I sighed with contentment. The cold water followed by his warm tongue felt so nice—
“Fuck,” I gasped, jolting hard enough the table beneath me gave a groan.
While he’d distracted me with his mouth, he’d also run the frigid tip of the icicle down between my legs, making the ice skate over my hot, sensitive clit. The sensation was gone as soon as it registered, but the melted water it left behind dripped down and pooled on the leather.
I was smart enough to know this was only a hint of what was planned. A taste of what he had in store for me. For us, I corrected, because I could see Travis in my peripheral vision as he sat nearby, watching the scene. I was curious about how he felt. Was he wishing he were the one standing over me right now, rather than the one stuck on the sidelines?
Was he jealous?
Steam fogged my mind. I couldn’t help it. The basic woman in me thrilled at the idea of two men fighting over her. I was still figuring out who they were as people, but I could already tell they were both competitive.
Perhaps Clay knew he didn’t have my undivided attention—because he seemed determined to get it back. Th
e melting ice trailed over my stomach, drawing patterns and leaving tracks of water behind. He slid it up over a breast and down the curve to the sensitive side, making me squirm.
He delivered his correction in a soft, yet confident voice. “Stay still.”
It was hard though because the ice was incredibly cold and so, so enjoyable. His unpredictable path kept me guessing and my heart racing, and the second time he slicked it through the cleft of my legs, I shuddered with pleasure and discomfort.
His palm trailed behind, smearing the wetness around as the ice skimmed down my thigh. It carved a line along my shin, and then was gone. He set the icicle and the glove aside momentarily so he could use both hands to undo the small buckle of my shoe’s ankle strap.
The heel thudded to the floor and he immediately went to work on the other.
I didn’t get a chance to enjoy the sensation of the shoes coming off because he re-gloved, scooped up the ice, and scraped it over my instep. The cold was so intense, I yelped, and the sensation reverberated up my leg like freezing lightning. It made the muscles deep in my belly clamp down.
And it made Travis jolt in his seat, but one sharp look from Clay was more powerful than the ropes around my wrists, and it got him to stay in place. As I’d suspected, this scene wasn’t just for me. It was meant to push Travis too.
“You’re so fucking hot, Lilith.” Clay’s tone verged on evil. “Do you think I can cool you down?”
My heart leapt into my throat and pounded there as the ice moved along my skin, up over my knee, painting more water trails and ignoring the goosebumps it left in its wake. He’d wandered and meandered with the ice before, but he moved with purpose now. It coasted over the top of my thigh and went straight for the place where I was hot and aching.
I clenched my teeth and air left me in a hiss as he stroked the ice over my clit.
He’d been watching my reaction and power flared in his eyes—or maybe it had been whatever he was preparing to do that had turned him on so much.
