Her Cowboy Doms(32)

She sucked in a breath when Paul edged his hand under her skirt. Putting a finger between her butt cheeks, he pulled her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. “Bend over, baby.”

“Here?”

Destin took her tray and put it on the table. He stood in front of her and slid his hand under the halter top. “Whenever we want you, you will give yourself to us.” He took her shoulder and pushed her so that she had to bend over.

Paul ran his finger into her butt crack, then found his way over the sensitive skin between her asshole and her pussy. “No underwear. Good. I’m glad to see that you listened.”

Destin tracked his fingers through her hair, keeping it from falling over her face. “What does she feel like?”

“Warm and wet. Just the way we like her.”

Her pussy tightened, welcoming Paul’s touch. His touch made her insides twist like his fingers were a wrench tightening a screw that would one day break and release all its tension. She looked at the floor, her palms on her knees to keep her steady. Without checking, she knew the club members watched them. Aside from the music that still played, the silence told her that she was the object of everyone’s attention.

Irritation flared in her. Why did everything have to be so damn public? Were they trying to humiliate her? Were they trying to make her leave?

“Why are you doing this to me?” Although she’d whispered, her voice sounded all too clear and loud.

“Are you saying you don’t like it? If so, use the safe word, baby.”

“I don’t—”

“Better tell the truth, sugar. Don’t ever lie.”

Damn it. How did they know her better than she knew herself?

“Do you like it or not?” Paul placed his hand in the middle of her back. “If you don’t, I’ll stop. But if you do, if you like what I’m doing and the fact that everyone is watching, then I’m going to keep going. Make up your mind. Now.”

Although she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head and see everyone, she couldn’t lie, either. “No. I mean. I like it.”

I’m a cop. I’m trained to be assertive and aggressive when I need to be. I’m always in charge, so why am I letting them do this? I should stand up and give them hell.

Holy shit, but I love it.

Her passion vetoed every argument that her mind screamed.

Paul started rubbing her clit. For a moment, sheer delight rode her anger out as the intense lust consumed her. Her pussy clenched and more juices leaked onto his fingers. Amazingly, she bent lower, offering him better access to her pussy.

“That’s it, baby. My hand is covered with your cream. Do you want me to fuck you, sub?”

She couldn’t answer. Not after her swirling need had turned her mind to mush. All she could do was grit her teeth to keep from moaning.

Destin eased to the side and yanked her skirt up to her waist. She gasped, then craned her head around to gawk at him. She was even more exposed than before.

“Answer my brother, sugar.”

She saw the quick movement of his hand a second before the sting of his slap struck her flesh. The moan she’d tried to hold back escaped.

“Hey, buddy? Do you want a flogger?”

It didn’t matter who had spoken. Before she knew it, Destin had taken hold of the flogger, then sent it flying to her ass. The soft leather strips swiped across her butt cheek, but they didn’t hurt. Not much. What little zip of pain they gave her changed into a rush of lust. Her heartbeat sped up. She fought to keep from begging him to hit her again.

Paul’s finger drove into her pussy. His palm rubbed against her clit. Her body was no longer under her control. His caresses grew harder, pushing her to the edge. Then, without warning, his hand was gone.

She almost fell forward in surprise, then was jerked back to a standing position. Destin tugged her skirt down as he slid the flogger down the back of her leg.

They’re stopping? But why? Did I do something wrong?

They’d brought her to the precipice of a climax and then left her hanging.

Paul wrapped his arm around her, bringing her back to his chest. He held up his hand in front of her face. His fingers glistened with her wetness. “Lick my fingers, sub. You should know how sweet you taste.”

“What?” Her voice was soft, but harsh. The idea of tasting her own juices was foreign, even taboo, yet intriguing.

“You heard me. Don’t make me repeat my command.”

“If she doesn’t want to, Paul, I’ll be glad to do it for her.”

A leather-clad woman leaning against a man dressed in nothing but his open jeans grinned. “Or Master Bill will, if that’s what he wants.”

Her male friend clutched her hair. “Damn straight I will. I haven’t tasted a newbie’s cream in a while now.”