“Yes, Logan.”
“Good girl. Xander?”
Instantly, Tara tensed. Round three; here it came. With her blindfold on, she had no idea what to expect. She shivered in both fear and anticipation, focusing on getting out of her body and head, and just letting whatever was going to happen, happen.
A wet tongue rolled over her taut nipple. Xander’s. The little point tightened even more. Tara breathed through the sensation, then again when he took the whole nipple in the heat of his mouth and sucked until she gasped, fists clenched.
Slowly, Xander released the hard point, only to repeat the process with the other nipple while twisting the other between a firm thumb and forefinger.
Against her will, her back arched in a silent plea for more.
A second later, he lifted away. Before she could process her disappointment and thrill that Logan was still watching intently, she felt twin shots of pain, one wrenching each of her ni**les.
Tara gasped. “Oh God. I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“Breathe through the pain,” Logan demanded. “You can take it.”
Was he insane? “No.”
“Are you saying your safe word?”
She couldn’t take the easy way out. “No.”
“Then take the pain. For me.”
God, for some twisted reason, those words melted her. She felt helpless in a way she never had. She could do nothing but accept what he chose to give her. And for some damn reason, she didn’t want to let him down.
Since she couldn’t change it, she let in the pain. Slowly, the bite rolled through her system, settling into a smooth throb. The hurt lashed her pu**y with a direct jolt of fire. She cried out.
“Do you want to come?” Logan asked.
“Yes!”
“Rephrase.”
“Yes, Logan! Please . . .”
A hand drifted over her stomach, fingers prowling lower until sure fingers slipped through her drenched folds and circled her clit. She knew by the touch and scent that it was Logan.
“Xander,” Logan prompted him, but no other explanation was forthcoming.
He caressed her br**sts, tugging gently on the clamps. Tara bucked, begged. They both petted her, keeping her just shy of climax.
Tears leaked from her eyes as her body felt like a building storm. So many sensations piled on top of emotions. She couldn’t block them, couldn’t process them, couldn’t do anything but let them pour in.
Suddenly, Xander removed the clamps. Blood rushed back to her ni**les in an uproar of tingles. And Logan’s fingers toyed with her clit again. Tara thrust and wriggled, trying to manipulate more pressure where she needed it.
Logan stopped instantly, then spanked her pu**y lightly with the pads of his fingers. “Stop moving. No coming.”
Tara bit back a curse, nearly out of her mind with need. “What do you want from me?”
“Breathe, Cherry,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll start with your submission. We’ll talk about the rest later. Focus on holding back your orgasm.”
She clenched everything inside her to stop the pending climax. The sensation was so intense, it was like physical pain. She tried to gulp in deep breaths, calm herself. Slowly, it worked.
Tara unclenched her fists and dug her nails out of her palms. She eased her butt and thighs back to the bed, then forced her shoulders against the silk sheets. Another long exhalation later she hoped—prayed—that she had it under control.
The rip of Velcro and the easing of her restraints told her that she was free. Xander removed her mask. Together, they rubbed her wrists and ankles.