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“Are you asking to try it out?” Sam whispered wickedly in her ear. Kimberly turned to gape at him, but before she could speak, he ordered, “On your knees, sub. Hands on your thighs, palms up. Head down.” She smirked at him but did as commanded. She’d read about this in her books and was secretly thrilled.
“You gonna pat me on the head like a good doggy?” Kimberly cooed in her sexiest baby doll voice.
“Now that you mention it…” Sam pulled her collar out of his back pocket and positioned it on her throat. “Let’s get this on you so you can get used to the weight.” Then he clicked the heavy lock into place, and she felt the front of it press up under her chin as he let go and stood back to admire his handiwork. She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. Sam didn’t smile; he frowned at her.
“When we enter a scene, Kimberly,” he told her in all seriousness, “whether it’s here or at a club or especially at a private party—” He bent at the waist, looking her dead in the face with eyes that had gone the blue of twilight. “—you will keep that tongue in your mouth unless instructed to do otherwise. Are we clear, sub?”
“Don’t fuck with Sammy,” Dean said with a relishing laugh. “He may be a big softie for the most part, but that’s one Dom you don’t want to cross.”
“We’re clear.” Kimberly nodded and lowered her eyes as heat unfurled in her belly. That heat ignited when he made a low, pleased sound and murmured, “Good girl,” before he straightened back up. How did he take the doggy reference she’d mocked a second ago and flip it on its head like that?My God,she thought amazed at reaction. She was practically ready to pant.
With athunk, Dean dropped three or four coils of colored rope on the floor in front of her. Sam whipped his shirt over his head and disappeared out of her limited line of sight. Kimberly was trying to take this seriously and follow orders, but she didn’twantto follow orders. What she really wanted to do was ogle everything in this room and the two men who were wandering around it behind her back, gathering who knew what kind of kinky torture devices to use on her. She considered it proof that she was cut out for this mission when she managed to keep from peeking.
An eternity later, Sam was standing in front of her again. He’d removed his shoes as well and now stood there only wearing a pair of beat-up jeans that hung over his long legs like a fantasy. “On your feet and strip.”
Kimberly stood with as much grace as she could muster and couldn’t help feeling smug about this part. She had no problem with her plus-size figure or her nudity. In cosmetology school and throughout college, she’d done nude modeling for the art department. That’s when she’d been nervous and self-conscious about her figure—not because she disapproved of it, but because she thought society did.
In that life-transforming studio, she learned how beautiful, how luscious and rich her body was. Kimberly also learned that she only thought others saw her as fat and unappealing. There, amidst stranger after stranger, they’d each shown her over and over again what people really saw when they looked at her. Now, she loved every delicious curve of her figure and wasn’t the least bit hesitant as she followed her instructions. She knew what she brought to the table.
“Hands behind your back.”
Kimberly folded her hands together behind her while she heard Dean fixing himself a drink. Sam put his big hands on her shoulders and squeezed a little before running his warm palms down her arms to her wrists. He pulled them tighter together, overlapped her forearms, and then she felt the first slide of silken rope.
He worked fast, tying her together from elbow to elbow in a series of tugs and slinking rope. Her arms were bound in seconds. Sam stooped to pick up another coil, and she felt more tugs and cinches, then two long tails flopped over each shoulder before he moved to stand in front of her.
“Hiya, stud,” she drawled.
He looked at her with eyes of midnight. “Speak again without permission,” he cautioned, “and I’ll put a ball gag in your mouth.”
Kimberly wondered how in the world a threat like that could send lightning bolts zipping through her system while Sam got back to work.
Sam brought the rope down in a V over each breast like a halter top. His deft fingers knotted the rope faster than a seasoned weaver as he made a macramé cup for first one heavy breast, then the other. The webbing had diamonds left out so her nipples were pushed high and exposed by the time he was satisfied with his work.
Dean was satisfied too; she heard him humming his approval as he swirled his drink at the bar.
With a firm grip on her arms, Sam walked Kimberly a couple of steps this way and that until she was directly under a bar with several rings attached to it. Instead of tying the tail ends of her halter, Sam slung them into different rings and started to pull.
“Oh shit!” Kimberly squeaked fervently. Sam stilled immediately and raised one eyebrow at her.
“Dean,” Sam prompted, looking at Kimberly like he was relishing the moment. “Why don’t you take care of this?” Dean swallowed the last of his drink with a hearty sigh, then set his empty glass to the bar top with a solid thunk.
“It’ll be my pleasure,” he answered in mock formality. “But I got something better in mind than a ball gag. Our little submissive needs to learn to keep her mouth closed, even when it’s not full.”
Kimberly couldn’t see what Dean picked up, but Sam could, and he twisted his lips into a satisfied smirk, did a panty-melting head flip to get his bangs off his forehead, then got nose-to-nose with her.
“Dean’s a lot nicer than me.” His gaze deliberately roamed her features. “Personally, I can’t wait to see those lips stretched around something big and hard.”
She would have jeered at the line, if it hadn’t filled her with a rush of longing so deep she felt it in her soul.
Dean came to stand in front of her, and he held up a handful of silicone and grinned at her like it was her birthday present. Or maybe it was his. He held the straps out so she could see them individually and started talking. Sam got back to tying. He was whipping several strands across her midriff in a tight-fitting corset, working at record speed.
“This here, Kimberly, is called the holy trinity,” Dean said and stretched the widest of the bands taught. There were three roundish clusters within that strap that had three balls in each.
“You see those bumpy things in there?” Dean pressed a button on a remote in his hand, and the top cluster began to roll and rotate under that thin layer. He pressed one fingertip to the center of it, and the nodules engulfed it, swirled, and worked on the digit like a suckling mouth. “Just imagine how good that’s going to feel on your sweet pussy.”
Oh, she was imagining all right. How was this a punishment?
“Once I get this in place,” he was saying, “You will have one over not just your clit, but when it’s activated, it’s going to rotate over this entire area here.” Dean firmly slid two fingers over the area above and below the clitoris as well. “Men are cheating themselves and their ladies if they ignore all the good things that happen in this whole area.” Kimberly’s eyes widened as he demonstrated. His fingers rubbed skillfully over the flesh there, and even though he stayed on the outside, it felt as if he were touching something much deeper. Kimberly felt her eyes wanting to roll back in her head.
