Three is a War(32)

“I love y—”

A blazing sting shoots across my backside, the pain so razor-sharp I don’t register the smacking sound of Cole’s hand until the echoes through the room.

“Dammit!” I twist to glare at him over my shoulder. “You could’ve warned me.”

“That was your warning.” He rears back his arm.

I return to Trace, teeth clenched, and brace for impact.

“Breathe, Danni.” Trace holds my arms against my back and cups my face in his strong hand. “Deep breaths.”

My lungs release as the next strike lands with a heavy smack. Fire spreads across my buttocks, permeates skin and muscle, and jars my bones. Fucking hell, it hurts, and he’s just getting warmed up.

It doesn’t take long for him to let loose. His breaths grow shallow, and fewer pauses come between the hits. The pain is all-consuming, stealing my air, watering my eyes, and blistering every nerve-ending in my lower body. But Trace holds me steady, in his hands, in the strength of his unflinching gaze.

I’ve been spanked by both of them more times than I can remember. Nothing compares to this…this dichotomy of staring into the eyes of one man while another pummels my backside. Every blow Cole delivers is meant to penetrate and arouse, and the panting sounds of Trace’s breaths heighten the thrill. I already feel the pleasure gathering inside me, coiling, heating, and throbbing between my legs.

But I’m afraid to enjoy it. Terrified I’ll crave what I can never have. My mind refuses to change course, however, my thoughts tunnel down a treacherous path that summons fantasies of Cole unzipping, pulling himself out, and ramming inside me while I writhe and buck on top of Trace’s swollen cock.

The ruthless slaps of Cole’s hand blur together in an endless sea of velvet fire. Feverish flames melt through my body, intoxicating my blood and numbing my brain. I sag against Trace’s chest, moaning helplessly and rocking my hips.

He tightens his grip on my neck, bringing my mouth an inch from his, teasing me with the sinful shape of his lips so close, so perfectly kissable. I know exactly how scrumptious he tastes, and the need to lick him rages inside me. I try to press closer, stretching my neck, reaching, needing, but he stops me, denying the kiss I want so badly.

I won’t beg, won’t make demands. I love the freedom in surrendering too much. Under their control, restrained by their will, I’m exactly where I belong.

Eventually, Cole’s strikes transform into languid caresses, his hands roving hypnotically up and down my spine and over my backside.

It’s heaven and hell, divine temptation and wretched torment. I’m naked and exposed between two virile, sexual, wickedly good-looking men—two men I love more than anything in the world, and I have no idea where this will lead.

It won’t end in a tangled trio of panting, sweat-slick bodies. They’ve been very clear about not sharing. Doesn’t stop the avalanche of hunger ripping through me in merciless waves. I’m insanely turned on, pulsing and soaked between my legs. And Cole knows it, feels it, as his fingers glide through my folds.

I gulp down a whimper, locked in the prismatic blue of Trace’s eyes.

“Do you want to come?” His gaze dips to my mouth.

“Not if I’m the only one.”

“That’s not up to you.” He glances at Cole behind me.

I don’t know if they’re having one of those wordless conversations, but the instant Cole’s fingers sink inside me, all rational thought evaporates.

His stroking, curling, diabolical touch spreads sparks of bliss across my skin, wrenching breathless noises from my throat. My arms ache to move from the unnatural position behind me, but Trace keeps them bound, my wrists clenched in his grip. I want to clutch his shoulders and pull him closer, but he gives me something better.

Ducking his head, he captures my mouth in a plundering kiss. His tongue swoops past my lips and slides against mine, licking, owning, and making me crazy with need. The onslaught of pleasure crashes through me, igniting every cell in my body and liquefying my bones. I groan against Trace’s mouth and grind against Cole’s hand, overstimulated, overwhelmed, and overflooded with emotion and desire.

Cole must be kneeling behind me, because I feel the warm brush of his lips on my backside, then his teeth, and holy shit, he’s burying his mouth between my legs.

Trace devours my moans, his chest heaving and hands digging into my arms, holding me immobile. He kisses me until my tongue no longer knows how to move and my lungs only work because they have to. I squeeze my knees around his hips, glorying in the indefinable sensation of being pinned down, pleasured, and dominated by multiple mouths.