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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.”


Tags: Nikki Sloane Nashville Neighborhood Erotic