by Nikki Sloane
“Oh, my fucking God,” I cried as my whole body arched, desperate to run from the sensation. He’d slid the shaft of ice inside me—only for a second—but the pain was acute. So cold, it felt like burning.
He raised the ice over me, showering my body with more drips as my body heat had sped up the melting. Freezing drops kissed my skin and he ran the palm of his free hand through it, swirling the water around and caressing me.
The combination of cold and warmth, pain and comfort, was doing things to me. I slipped further under his control, ready to do whatever he desired. If he asked me to go a week without orgasm, I’d agree to it.
“Did you enjoy that?” His question was mostly rhetorical, because he already knew the answer. Maybe he’d asked it so we could make sure Travis knew too.
“Yes,” I said.
God, he was so sexy when he was in control. Satisfaction twisted his lips into a smile. “Then, it’s all right for me to do it again?”
My heart was still throbbing in my throat, so I nodded.
The ice was set down beside me, and I watched as Clay grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head, then cast it aside. It was a simple action, but the effect was huge. It felt like . . . escalation.
Tension built inside me.
I gazed at his toned chest and since I couldn’t touch, I gripped the rope between my hands instead. My breathing went shallow as his fingers went to the snap of the jeans that hung low across his hips. He was too hot to look at, so I swung my focus away until it landed on Travis.
Well, that was a mistake.
Air evaporated from the room and awareness tingled on the back of my neck. Travis wasn’t looking at me for once—his attention was on the other man. He watched Clay undress like a mystery was about to be revealed. He stared at our partner with interest and maybe desire too, but it was hard to tell for sure.
Maybe I just wanted it so badly, I was only imagining it.
Travis blinked away whatever he’d been thinking, his gaze drifted to me, and then there was no doubt about the lust he held. It pooled in his eyes like beautiful ink. I was burning up from the inside, and it was almost sweet relief when Clay pressed the ice to my skin.
He repeated his action from before and the icicle made a circuit around the sensitive places on my body. Every nerve was awake and tingling, clamoring for more, for attention, for relief . . .
The ice pushed inside me, impaling me with a burning cold I couldn’t stay still for, and this time it was longer. “Oh, shit, Clay. Shit!”
I whimpered as the cold retreated and I could think again over the sensation. He climbed up onto the table and knelt between my legs, one hand holding the dripping ice and the other clenched around his erection that strained beneath his black underwear.
“Maybe,” he teased, “you’d like me to fuck you with my dick instead of this ice?”
I hesitated. Was this a trick question?
He gave himself a pump with his fist, then leaned over and spread my pussy open with his thumb and forefinger. It was so he could hold the ice just above my clit and let the water drip onto it. The impact of each freezing drop made me flinch.
His tone was dark and victorious. “I’ll do it if you beg me.”
Holy fuck.
I’d told him I didn’t beg, and my first instinct was to fight, even when I knew this was a battle I was going to lose. My grip tightened on the rope as I shook my head.
Judging by the smile that flashed on his lips, he’d hoped for this.
I inhaled sharply as the ice plunged inside my body, gliding in as if made of the smoothest glass, but it brought pain so intense, it stole my breath. Years of wearing heels had taught me to be comfortable with pain. I had no problem with a long, lingering ache or a blister. I didn’t notice half the time, and occasionally, I found it weirdly pleasurable.
But pain that came on in an instant? And was white-hot? I wasn’t prepared.
A panicked whine tore from my mouth and I squirmed on the table, fighting against my restraints, desperate to escape. On some level, I was aware I wasn’t the only one wrestling with discomfort, but it wasn’t until he spoke that I remembered anything outside of the icy fire existed.
Travis’s urgent warning was forceful and verged on scary. “Clay.”
I gasped with relief as the ice went away, and Clay’s attention snapped toward the other man, who’d risen to his feet and stood with a threatening posture. Clay wasn’t intimidated, nor was he happy with how Travis had interrupted the scene and the way he’d been challenged.
“Trust me,” Clay said. “I know what I’m doing, and unlike you—I have this under control.”
It was clear he didn’t just mean the scene—this was a dig at how Travis’s self-control had faltered both yesterday, and maybe even now. He waited impatiently for Travis to say something else, and when nothing came, his focus shifted back to me.
I’d expected another round with the ice or a reminder I needed to beg, but he kept me guessing, that was for sure. Clay pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as if preparing to study blueprints, set down the ice and glove, and then lowered in to place his mouth over my clit. My satisfied moan was immediate and unstoppable.
Oh, he was good.
If he’d asked me to beg, I was already weak enough I would have done it, but his warm mouth against my numb skin gave me time to recover. It rekindled my desire to resist . . . especially if this was going to be my reward.
My toes went into points as his tongue flickered, and in my contentment, my head lolled to the side. Travis was still on his feet beside the stool, as if he’d been too distracted to find his seat, and now the lust coiling inside him made it impossible to move. His broad shoulders were as tense as the muscle flexed along the side of his jaw, signaling he was clenching his teeth.
Clay had seen another man go down on me several times, but this was a first for Travis, and although he was clearly enjoying it, he also looked like a fragile bomb that had been armed.
One wrong move and he’d lose control.
I suspected he was desperate to join us, and his cock was ready to go. It bulged behind his jeans, swelling enormously to one side. I stared at him through my hazy eyes as Clay’s tongue painted pleasure between my legs.
“Fuck,” Travis growled. “That’s so sexy.”
Whatever filter I possessed had been burned away by the ice. “Yeah?” I arched my back provocatively, making my knees and my tits point toward the ceiling. “You like watching him go down on me?”
The tongue between my legs hesitated. Clay wanted to hear the answer.
“I want to watch him fuck you.”
There was one final teasing lick and then a half of a chuckle. “Nice try, but she knows what she has to do.” I was sure there wasn’t a more persuasive, seductive taunt in the world when he whispered it to me. “Beg.”
I was a breath away from saying no but didn’t get the chance.
Travis crossed his thick arms over his chest and tilted his head. “What if I did it for her?”
His question charged the room with chaotic energy, and I could practically hear Clay’s mind stumble. He’d planned the scene, and this wasn’t part of it, but . . . hearing a dominant beg rather than a submissive? That would be quite the power trip, and he considered it carefully. Would he ever get another opportunity like this?
He straightened, sitting back on his heels, and turned his intense stare toward the other man. “Go on, then.”
Travis went still. He hadn’t expected Clay to accept his offer and now he fumbled for what to do. His arms uncrossed and hung at his sides as he searched for the right words.
“Please.” His voice was unsure. “Please do it. I want to see you fuck her and make her come.”
His plea earned him an unimpressed reaction from Clay. “That’s it?”
He frowned and adjusted. “Goddamnit, please, Clay. I’m begging you. Show me how it is whe
n you’re with her.” He gave up fighting whatever was holding him back, and his voice went thick with need. “I want to see your cock slide inside her tight, little pussy. I want to find out if her moans are the same as when I’m the one fucking her.”
A slow, surprised smile warmed Clay’s face. “Yeah?” He hooked a finger under the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down, freeing his erection. “Which cock? This one?”
Jesus.
Travis’s unflinching gaze drifted down to take in the display, and my bones threatened to liquify. There wasn’t bashfulness from either man—only curiosity.
Travis ran a hand over his lips, maybe muffling a curse word beneath it, but he didn’t shy away. I didn’t blame him, either. Besides being built for sex, Clay’s body was made for admiration.
Travis’s hand fell away, a decision made, and his chest lifted with a deep breath. “Yes.”
Clay’s triumphant smile slid from the man to me, and although he didn’t ask with words, he peered down patiently and waited for my consent.
“Yes,” I said eagerly.
He pushed his underwear further down and out of the way, and moved over me, supporting himself on one hand while he used the other to steady himself.
The realization sliced through me, nearly as cold as the ice he’d used.
“Wait,” I gasped.
He turned to stone and concern filled every inch of his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Travis and I,” I gulped down a breath, “we didn’t use protection last night.” My voice went powerless. “I thought you should know, in case you wanted to . . .”
He didn’t move, didn’t blink. “What?”
“We didn’t use a condom.”
Finally done processing what I’d said, he turned his head to the man standing nearby, and irritation mixed with disappointment. “Were you thinking about her at all?”
“Are you kidding me?” Travis’s tone was surprisingly angry. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her.” He glared at the man lingering over me like he might be the cause. “I’m not proud we didn’t talk about it before, or the way I lost control, but I’m clean. Safe. And she said the same. Plus, I got tested a few months ago and she’s my first partner since.” He set his hands on his hips. “But you already know that, just like I know she’s on birth control and you two don’t use condoms.”
“Because we talked about that before anything happened,” Clay muttered.
“Yeah, and then you told me too, so I knew I wasn’t putting her at risk.” He exhaled and visibly released the tension he’d been holding in his body. “Do you want me to get you a condom?”
The man leaning over me struggled, but it seemed more to be with his awkwardness rather than the decision. Once again, things hadn’t gone according to plan, and Clay looked unsure of how to proceed.
How to get back into the scene.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and tried to pull him toward me. “I’m still okay without one.”
His focus shifted back to me, his eyes darkened with sex, and abruptly an evil smile flitted across his lips. It made me suspicious of what he was thinking about. Whatever new plan he’d just drafted in his head, he was quite pleased with it.
“Oh,” I murmured as the tip of his cock brushed over my entrance and began to push inside.
As he eased deeper inside me, all the tension in the room began to fade. I groaned with pleasure when his warm skin flattened to mine, but he only stayed long enough to latch his mouth onto mine and bite my bottom lip. I loved his mean, calculated kiss. It fanned the fire between us.
But then he straightened so we were only touching where we were joined, and he began to fuck me just as cruel as his kiss had been. It was hard, and fast, and premeditated. This wasn’t for my pleasure—it was for his.
But if this was supposed to be a punishment fuck, it wasn’t working. Clay’s brutal thrusts sent sparks glittering across my nerve endings and made me want to roll my eyes back into my head. The ice had numbed me, so now his cock felt like a hot branding iron.
God, it felt good.
He locked his hands on my hips, pinning me against the cushioned tabletop that was wet from the melted ice, and heaved his body into mine. Within seconds we were both panting, and grunts of satisfaction rolled from his lips. His fingers dug painfully into my skin, driving me wild.
“Yes,” I moaned.
I kept my gaze on Clay, but I was acutely aware we weren’t alone. Travis had taken a subtle step toward the table, maybe to get a closer view, or perhaps he hoped he’d get to participate. It allowed me to see him in my peripheral vision, and although I couldn’t make out the exact expression he wore, I sensed both his desire and his envy.
He’d said he wanted Clay to make me come, but then the thought clicked in my head. Clay’s evil smile had been a warning. Travis wasn’t his submissive and he didn’t care what the other man wanted tonight. Plus, Travis valued pleasure over pain. Not bringing me to orgasm could punish us both.
And I’d failed the ‘no orgasm’ test last night. It stood to reason Clay would want to try again.
His breathing was ragged, and his pulse pounded in his neck, and as his moans began to swell, all the telltale signs were there. My body whined with need. I was close—but not as close as he was, and Clay was determined to get across that finish line before me.
The muscles in his chest flexed and tensed.
His tempo went erratic before jerking to a stop, and a huge gasp rang out like it’d been punched from his chest.
His cock wasn’t that deep inside me when he came, but I could still feel the subtle pulses and warmth before he slipped out and retreated. He sat back, admiring the result of his work, and the same smug smile from before lurked on his lips.
His underwear was pulled up as I lay on the table, my body physically cooling but the heat he’d created inside me stubbornly lingered. I bit down on my bottom lip to stay quiet. I’d made it through the scene without begging. No need to start now.
He got down off the table, rescued the ice from the puddle that had formed around it, and strode toward the garbage can. He had to walk past Travis to get there, but pulled to a stop when the man stepped into his path.
Travis’s expression was dark. “You didn’t make her come.”
“No.” Clay turned to glance over his shoulder, still wearing the same enigmatic smile. “You are.”
NINETEEN
Surprise flashed through Travis and was quickly followed with excitement. I liked this plan as much as he seemed to, but when he took an enthusiastic step toward me, Clay’s hand came up and flattened to the center of Travis’s chest to stop him.
Everything around the men slowed to a crawl.
Clay’s hand was pressed against the front of Travis’s t-shirt, and neither man looked prepared for the contact. The touch probably wasn’t meant to be sexual, but Clay’s fingers splayed out, as if eager to feel more of the hardened muscles beneath them.
Travis’s eyes were wide, and he drew in a heavy breath. Clay didn’t seem to be breathing at all. This was absolutely not part of his plan, and he looked utterly lost. As if he wanted to draw his hand away, but couldn’t.
The moment between them was so shockingly intimate, I felt as if I were intruding simply by being in the same room.
Clay’s voice was low and uneven. “Make her come . . . and you can only use your mouth to do it.”
Oh, my God.
Travis jolted, breaking his gaze with the man to look at me as I lay motionless, still tied down to the table. Clay had come inside me, and I could feel it slowly dripping out between my legs.
“You want to share her with me?” Clay found his confidence again, and it built with each word. “Then, let’s share everything.”
My heart hammered in my chest as Travis stared at me and considered what he’d just been asked to do. It didn’t seem like Clay’s motivation was to humiliate the other man—it was
a test. How badly did Travis want to be the one to bring me pleasure?
And how comfortable was he with the other man in this relationship?
He closed his hand around the one Clay had resting on his chest, and slowly pushed it away so he could move forward, his expression full of determination.
“Holy shit,” I gasped, and a thrill shot through me.
There was a loud thud as the ice dropped into the trash, while Travis moved to the end of the table and set his gaze upon me. It was so sexy and exciting, I could feel it like his hands were caressing me as it moved up my legs.
“This is what you want?” he asked. “Me to clean up after him?”
I didn’t know if this was a turn-on for the men, but for me? Fucking yes. Not just because I’d get an orgasm, but the idea of it . . . It was so dirty and hot, I couldn’t catch my breath. So, I swallowed thickly, gave him a shy smile, and bobbed my head.
Clay looked captivated. Like he didn’t want to miss a second of what was going to happen.
Travis urged my legs apart, slid his hands beneath my thighs, and held my gaze as he lowered in. My pulse was raging, making blood roar through my ears, and I pressed my lips together in anticipation of the moan I’d unleash when his mouth made contact.
His eyes, framed with long, dark lashes, fell closed.
Then his lips brushed against my damp skin and he gave me just a sliver of his tongue. It’d been a featherlight touch, but I jolted with pleasure. His second pass was less tentative. It started at the bottom of my entrance and went all the way up to my clit, and heat gathered inside me, building like a fire storm.
“Fuck.” Clay’s deeply appreciative word punched through the silence of the room, yanking my attention to him. My face flushed with warmth. Once again, he looked unprepared for the reaction this caused in him. Overcome by how much he liked it. He stared at me bound to the table he’d built, and watched as another man feasted on the pussy he’d just fucked.
Travis had been hesitant in the beginning, but he was all in now. His tongue spun cartwheels on my sensitive skin, and I gulped down air. It wasn’t going to take any time for him to make me come since Clay had laid all the groundwork.
