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“What’s your safe word?”
“Red.”
King took a step closer, his hands going to the buttons I’d just done up on my shirt. Slowly, but deftly, he undid the top one. Met my gaze. “You don’t want mild.”
I sighed, not sure if it was because that was exactly correct or if it was because his knuckles brushed over the skin between my collarbones as they moved down to the second button.
“Neither do you,” I countered.
“No, we don’t. You want someone to take charge, to not wait for you to tell him it’s okay. You’ll tell him red when it’s not. We’ll be those men.”
My eyelids fell closed as he moved to the next button, relaxing because he was right. That was exactly what I wanted and it seemed he was giving it to me, one button at a time. While I didn’t want someone to push himself on me, I wanted him to…to lead, to test my boundaries, my desires in a safe environment, knowing I could say no through my safe word at any time. I didn’t want to tell a man what I wanted because I didn’t know what it was.
“Yes,” I breathed.
I felt Wilder behind me, his hands going to my shoulders and when King finished with the final button on my blouse, he slid the fabric down so it fell to the floor at our feet.
I still didn’t open my eyes. Didn’t dare. I knew, even in the soft lighting, that they could see my breasts, see the tiny gold hoops pierced through them. The black bustier didn’t cover much and lifted everything. I could feel their gazes on me.
“Holy fuck, Sarah,” King said, his voice deep and rough. “How long have you had the piercings?”
“Two years,” I replied.
“Jesus, we’ve seen you around town and you had these gorgeous nipple rings in all that time?”
I nodded. What else could I say?
“Every time you wore those prim librarian clothes you had these beneath?” He exhaled, as if trying to calm himself.
“Any hard limits, princess?” Wilder growled, his lips brushing over my shoulder.
Tilting my head to the side, I gave him room. More.
“I…I don’t know.” I paused. Thought, even as he kissed me, his tongue licking my skin. “Um, I don’t want to be peed on.”
I felt Wilder’s smile against my shoulder, heard King’s chuckle. “That’s good. We’d be the ones calling red if you did.”
“No breath play. And I don’t think I’d like to be fisted.”
I shivered at the possibility. I’d seen King’s and Wilder’s hands, lusted after them touching me, but that didn’t mean…nope.
Fingers brushed over my exposed nipples and my eyes flew open. King ran his knuckles over the sensitive tips. “Such a good girl, telling us this. Why didn’t you say something last summer?”
“What? That I’m a virgin, into being with two men and kinky stuff, but don’t want to be fisted?” It was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, you’d have run off faster than a jackrabbit.”
“You forgot the nipple rings,” King said, his gaze lowering, then flicking back to mine, kissed my temple, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth.
“Right, I could’ve…I could’ve mentioned those, too.” Where I’d been cold a minute ago, I was warm now. Hot, even. With them on both sides of me, their lips brushing over me, I felt closed in, but not claustrophobic. I felt engulfed. I felt…aroused.
“You’re telling us these things now and you’re not running,” Wilder added.
I tilted my head to the side, looked up at him over my shoulder. His dark eyes were right there, watching me. Studying. Paying very close attention as if every breath, every move I made was important.
“Are you telling me you want me, that you want to do…things with me?” I asked.
Hands went to my upper arms and I was gently spun about. Wilder leaned down, met my eyes with his dark ones. “Fuck, yes.”
“Then why did you act all gentlemanly and...nice on those dates? And why did you date me separately?”
