Sally bit her lip, remembering the cabana. Her punishment. Or how Galen had pinned her facedown on the kitchen counter and taught her what ice felt like. And each time, how…settled…she’d felt afterward. She’d never felt like that before in her casual playtimes here. “Yeah. It is.”

Gabi leaned back on the couch. “Since Marcus is helping out with a suspension scene, you have plenty of time to tell me what’s going on with you and the Feds. Spill it, girl.”

Chapter Twelve

Waiting beside a freestanding St. Andrew’s cross, Galen smiled as Vance brought Sally into the dungeon. She displayed the bravado that had initially attracted him, but now he could see the underlying vulnerability, which she’d concealed so well.

She’d done the homework he’d assigned. The essay. Even though she hadn’t documented all her father had done, he could see the effect of the bastard’s actions. And because she’d been writing—thinking rather than reacting—Sally realized how her thought processes had been twisted. She was an incredibly intelligent woman—but even under the light of her intellect, the problems weren’t going to disappear overnight.

He’d been impressed at how doggedly she was trying. She had guts, all right.

And she also had a bubbly-as-champagne personality. Merely being on the receiving end of one of her smiles could lift his mood…and he found it disturbing how much she’d come to mean to him. Christ, where was he going with this?

He didn’t want a permanent submissive. Or a lover. Or anyone who could be hurt by his job or actions…or anything. And yet the thought of losing her made him feel as if he’d run into a wall.

He and Vance needed to talk. Soon.

As the two approached, Galen crossed his arms over his chest. “Nice collar, pet.” He ran his finger over the leather, brushing the satiny skin of her neck, listening to the hitch in her breathing. Her lip trembled slightly, and he paused. The collar meant something to her, didn’t it? Did she want to be claimed? By them? Possessiveness surged through him like a rising tide.

“She looks good in a collar, doesn’t she?” Vance had his hand on her shoulder, displaying the same ownership Galen felt.

Odd how they’d never run into problems with territoriality. But Vance felt like the brother Galen never had—sharing with him felt…right. “She does.” Galen lifted his eyebrows. “Was there a reason she needed one?”

Standing behind Sally, Vance winked and said gravely, “I’m afraid so. Tell him, Sally.”

Her lip poked out. “I didn’t do anything that awful. I just detoured to get some food before I went over to be with the other subs.”

“I see.” Testing her limits, was she? Was this just a normal response of someone independent to getting orders—or was there a need he and Vance weren’t meeting and she was acting out to get their attention? The imp wasn’t easy to read sometimes; she kept a lot buried deep. From the sulky set to her mouth, she wasn’t going to share right now.

But maybe they could get her to a place where her reticence would be set aside. He started to speak before realizing something else. Vance wouldn’t have collared her for just straying. “How did that work out for you?”

A flush crept up her face, and she dropped her gaze.

Vance said, “Some Doms weren’t happy that she’d faked her orgasms. And the word that she isn’t a trainee hasn’t gotten around.”

“Uncomfortable situation, eh, pet?”

Without looking up, she nodded, all defiance gone.

And his heart ached for her. She might have dug her own hole, but— “Sally, you took your punishment. As far as Vance and I—and other experienced Doms—are concerned, your slate is clean. A good Dom won’t throw past mistakes in your face.”

Her gaze lifted, her eyes a liquid brown. “Thank you, Sir.”

“No thanks needed.” He glanced at the cross. “We’re planning to play with you a bit. I have a craving to dispense a flogging. Vance will warm you up and decide on your restraints.”

Vance smiled and turned her around. “Hold still now.” He slipped her top off, his eyes lighting as her breasts were exposed.

Galen shook his head and leaned against the wall, facing her, and settled in to watch his partner play. He’d seen the clothespins case in the toy bag. Galen might like impact toys, but Vance definitely enjoyed teasing breasts.

After Vance had savored Sally’s breasts for a while, he started placing the clothespins, taking a pinch of skin several inches from the nipple and putting the clothespin on, then moving down an inch to set another one. By the time he finished, Sally had a circle of clothespins on each breast.

Brave pet, she’d only whimpered once and suffered through the rest. She looked a little glassy-eyed now, but not in subspace. Galen planned to get her there…eventually.

Vance unzipped her short leather skirt and yanked it off her hips. Sally’s eyes widened at the move, and Galen grinned. Apparently she expected that kind of aggression from him, not Vance. Surprise.

“Open your legs,” Vance ordered her. He stepped behind and reached around her hips. His fingers opened her labia, exposing her to Galen’s sight. “She feels wet and swollen. What do you think?”

He thought her flush now included embarrassment as well as arousal. Experienced submissives were used to being naked…it was fun to give them back that exposed feeling. And he loved keeping Sally off balance. As he studied her silently, her flush increased.

But he did enjoy the view. Her inner labia were puffy and gleaming slickly. Her clit was already swollen, a dark, glistening pink and poking out from the hood. I think she’ll get off quickly. But that wasn’t the plan. “I’d say she’s ready for me.”

An obvious tremor shook her short body. Yes, she was definitely ready for him. He tilted his head toward the St. Andrew’s cross.

“Wait, sweetheart. I want access to your breasts.” After eyeing Sally’s height, Vance adjusted the footboards—pedal-like boards that could be screwed into the bottom of the X frame to position the submissive higher on the cross. In this case, so that her breasts wouldn’t be pressed into the center of the X.

“Up you go,” Vance said and helped her step onto the boards, facing the frame. She reached up and closed her hands around the eyebolts, putting her top half into a V position. With the higher position, her stomach rubbed on the center of the X, and her breasts pushed out between the wooden arms.

Vance walked around in front of her and smiled. “You know I like restraints. I consider them a visible symbol of the trust between a Dom and a sub. But tonight, I’m not going to use any. You’ll stay in position—because we want you to. Can you do that?”

Her breathing had slowed as her body unconsciously prepared itself, as her mind slid her down the path to submission. “Yes, Sir.”

“We’re going to start light, baby girl,” Galen said. After moving behind her, he ran his hand through her rich brown hair and used an elastic hair tie from his pocket to anchor it on top of her head and out of his way.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes held a touch of anxiety and—

His heart seemed to expand into a glowing ball of pleasure. “You trust me, don’t you?” For that was what he saw in her eyes. Open, defenseless trust.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered without thinking.

This was the wonder of being a Dom, that someone would let him have control over her, that she trusted him to care for her when she did. “Remember you have a safe word. This time I want you to use yellow if I get close to your limits. Is that clear?” He ran his hand up her neck, kissed her slowly. Soft, sweet lips.

“Yes, Sir. I will.”

“All right then.” Galen picked up his light deer-hide flogger and used it to warm up her skin, walking back and forth behind her, striking her upper back, occasionally going down on a knee to work over her pretty, round ass. Her golden skin colored beautifully to a rich red color and gradually showed a slight pebbling. Her breathing evened out, came slower as she sank into the sensations.

He loved watching the descent, the slide of tension out her body.

Sally’s head was still up. Galen chose a heavier flogger and positioned himself where he could see the side of her face as he laid the leather on her back. Harder. Her expression would tighten, and she’d breathe out through the burst of sensation. Not real pain—not yet. But getting there. A pretty sight, watching her take what he gave her.

He moved behind her and increased the intensity.

CHRIST IN NEVER-NEVER land, that felt as if she were being slammed into by a million tiny hammers. He wasn’t going to go easy on her, was he? She closed her eyes and inhaled through the edgy pain, through the edgy response that followed. The arousal simmering under her skin kept growing, even though the last strike had been powerful enough to knock her body forward against the cross and jostle the clothespins around her breasts, adding a whole new level to the sensations inside.

Whap. Whap.

No time to breathe between. Each blow just a little more forceful than the previous ones. She filled her lungs and opened her eyes. Galen was beside her. His dark gaze swept over her, studying her, before meeting her eyes. “You’re doing good, pet. Give me a number for the last couple.”