Black kept a hold of her chin, then pressed his thumb past her lips. She obediently sucked it, then he lowered it to circle her other nipple.
It was torture, waiting, trapped and on fire and confused. Still, Black took the other clip and attached it, the same moment of pain hitting her, but this time without the doubt.
Gold shifted her dress down enough that the straps hung over her arms, then brought her wrists together behind her.
She tugged, testing his hold, finding it solid. It made her breath quicken but not in panic.
She felt like the animal she’d dressed up as, like a fox caught between three wolves.
And no matter how stupid it was, no matter how much she might kick herself later, she wanted them all.
Connor couldn’t get enough of the little fox between them. Her nipples had been the color of peaches at first, but after a bit of attention, they’d darkened, grown stiff, and he wanted nothing more than to close his teeth on them, to watch her come undone.
Of course, seeing the clamps there worked pretty well, too. The tiny teeth bit in, and her reaction was what wet dreams were made of.
She was strung tight. He could see her thinking constantly, the way her brain never seemed to stop or slow. At least, until they got their hands on her.
Now she was mindless, just feeling, craving,needing.
She pulled against his grip—just testing his hold—and her breathing quickened, sending her farther down that hole, and he wanted to show her the whole damned thing.
Training new subs had never been his thing, but damn if this girl didn’t get him going. She wasn’t new, not exactly, but there was something damn appealing about showing a girl what she thought she already understand.
Garrison elbowed Trent out of the way, then fell to his knees. He glanced up her body, looking ready to devour some poor creature who had ventured off the path. He set his hands on the outside of her thighs, then pushed up her dress, slowly, letting her nerves get the best of her.
Ah, some games are worth playing slowly.
She trembled in their grasp, like something their pack had caught, something they’d enjoy tasting.
When Garrison pulled the dress up and over her head, showing what she wore underneath, Connor knew he needed to sit his ass down. She had on the sweetest little white panties—ones made of lace that had her looking like something innocent that had wandered into their little den of iniquity.
Fuck.
Connor moved the few steps backward so he could sit on the bed, then hooked the ring of her cuffs together, so he didn’t have to hold her. There were better things to do with his hands. He pulled her into his lap, enjoying how she squirmed.
Garrison scooted forward, his gaze locked with hers. He didn’t break that, not even when he curled his fingers into her panties and slid them down her toned legs.
Still, she kept her thighs pressed tight together, as if that were her last security, her safety net.
Connor reached around her and grasped her legs, noting how small they felt in the grasp of his large hands, and just how much he liked it. “Spread ‘em, Fox.”
She didn’t, but each time he spoke, each time any of them did, that trembling started up. It wasn’t the fear from before—that was pure need, and damn if that didn’t draw Connor in.
Garrison cast her a smirk. “Come on. Won’t be able to have much fun if I can’t even reach the good stuff.”
Trent let out a sharp laugh. “I think we’ve already gotten to some of that.” He leaned over and tugged softly at one clamp, and sure enough, she let out the most perfect whimper, the sort a man could hear all his life and never get enough of.
Better yet, those thighs of hers went loose, and it let Connor pull them wide.
Garrison scooted in, just enough so that if she tried to snap them shut again, he’d be in her way. He placed his hands on the insides of her legs, thumbs a breath from her cunt, and offered one hell of a wolfish grin. “What a pretty little pussy you have,” he said casually.
“You can’t say that.” She gasped, as thoughthatwere the most scandalizing thing happening. It seemed the girl struggled with the verbal, no matter who was doing the talking.
Garrison met her gaze, no shame in his expression. “I’m pretty sure I can.” He ran his thumb up her exposed slit, teasing the folds there as though it were the most regular, normal thing in the world. “See, I have some experience, so I know what I’m talking about, and your pussy is beyond lovely.” He pressed more, the thumb disappearing just a bit into her. “Soft, warm and”— his thumb sank in a little farther—“oh so wet.” He used his other hand to pull back the hood of her clit, to expose it to the air, to all of them. “And this sweet little clit here is just begging for some attention.”
As it turned out, their little Fox didn’t seem to like being exposed. Or, rather, shelovedit, even as she squirmed, as she shifted to cover herself again.
Too bad.Something about a squirming woman did it for Connor.