My heart races. It screams for me to say yes. Show me everything! I try to keep my poker face, try to get my frantically pounding pulse to ease up. His grin widens as he watches my face. Despite my best efforts, he looks at me like he sees right through my skin to the secrets I’ve never told a soul.
“You want to tie me up…?”
“Absolutely I do.” His answer catches me by surprise. I don’t know why I thought people would be secretive or subtle here. Why would they be? This is one of very few places where none of us have to hide what we want. “But if you’re not sure, why don’t you watch the three of us, and then you can decide?”
The three of them… a shiver shoots up my spine at the thought. Three sets of hands, all those fingers dragging over my skin… For a moment I lose myself, my thoughts consumed by the idea. Three men. Three gorgeous men. Over me, under me, inside of me… but then I realize I’m the interloper here. “Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry.” I say, backing toward the door. “I didn’t mean to walk in on your session or anything.”
“Stop.”
The voice is smokey, deep and rough. The command is unmistakably meant for me. I freeze, my heels superglued to the floor, my eyes finding the tattooed Viking. My chest rises and falls with each shallow breath. He steps out of the corner and prowls toward me like a tiger, his intense eyes locked on mine, as if daring me to look away.
He glances over his shoulder at the man in the suit. “Told you so,” his voice vibrates through the air, making me wonder what he told him. Something about me? Can’t be, considering we’ve never spoken before this moment. But then his focus, and all of its raw, spine-tingling power, settles back on me and I find that I don’t really care.
“You’re not interrupting. You are very welcome, regardless of participation.” Oh, God. I really should have worn those panties, but I’m not arguing with him if he says I can stay and watch. I wanted to play tonight, but maybe it’s best if I just watch so I don’t fuck up in the future.
“Okay,” I say, trying to force the breathy quality out of my voice, but it’s impossible when I can’t seem to catch my breath. I glance at the man in the suit. He still hasn’t said anything. He’s… observing, his head tilted to the side, eyes tightening as he frowns at me thoughtfully.
He crooks a finger in my direction, beckoning me closer. I move on instinct, floating to stand in front of him without even thinking about it. He’s a towering, imposing figure in that suit, and I can’t help but think that’s how he likes to be seen. Lifting my chin I stare back into his eyes, refusing to back down just because he’s big and scary.
His lips quirk, fighting a smile. “You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly.
“No.” I say archly. “You can’t be a troublemaker if you don’t get caught.”
“Spoken like a true brat.” His chuckle catches me by surprise. “I’m Mal, that ugly fucker is Thorin.” He gestures at the dangerously handsome tattoo guy who rolls his eyes.
“Don’t listen to him. That tie is just limiting the amount of oxygen that gets to his big head.” Thorin grins broadly, taking the rope from my hands. “Alright boys, who’s the willing victim?” Mal shakes his head, but Leo raises his hand.
Thorin calls Mal a pussy, getting an eye roll in return. Leo yanks his shirt off, and my mouth goes dry. “You’re going to need another rope,” he says to Thorin, but his eyes are fixed on me. “I’m a lot thicker than little Bree here.” Thicker is… accurate. Walking slab of muscle would also be accurate.
It’s not that I’m a delicate little waif. The patriarchal society can pry my ice cream from my cold dead fingers. I’m not giving that up just to fit in a smaller size. I work out, but that’s really about stress relief. Well, stress relief and a way to exorcize some of my pent-up sexual frustration.
At five foot nine, I’m tall for a woman, and wearing heels, I’m often taller than half the men in the room. Just not in this room. These three tower over me like imposing sex gods. Tall and thick.
“Hands by your side,” Thorin directs Leo, who plays along despite looking less than amused. Thorin situates the rope behind Leo’s head, draping it over his shoulders. I watch his hands move, mesmerized. He makes it look so easy, but it’s clear this is a skill he’s developed. Each knot is carefully placed, the tension set at just the right level.
He weaves the tail ends, knotting and adjusting until he has Leo’s hands cuffed by his sides. His arms are pinned in place by the intricate harness that hugs his torso. There isn’t enough air in the room to keep my lungs inflating properly.
“Hot, huh?” Thorin grins deviously. I nod. This was a pipe dream. Something I never really thought I’d get to try. But I’m here, this is real, and I know exactly what I want.