He hit a tender area.

“Ow!” She tried to push up, but his free hand was on her collar, holding her in place. God, she loved that feeling. “Easy, baby girl,” he murmured. “This will help the swelling and keep you from bruising.”

But she kind of wanted a few bruises to remember this by. Because she’d done it. Taken it.

Liked it.

He continued until her whole back felt as if an arctic mist had settled on a bad sunburn.

“I’m proud of you, Sally,” he said, his voice grave and impossible to disbelieve. “I asked you to take something, and you did. For me. That makes me feel good.” He massaged her scalp gently.

With a sigh of happiness, she laid her cheek on his muscled thigh and relaxed into his care. “But I didn’t think you were a sadist,” she whispered.

He caressed her cheek, and she could smell the leather on his skin as well as the hint of shaving lotion he’d used earlier. His beard growth was heavy enough that he often shaved twice a day. Because of her.

His relaxed chuckle made her feel good, as if their scene had pushed him to the same happy place she was in. “I’m a Dom, and I like taking a submissive to her limit and an inch beyond. Pain is one of the easiest ways to get there.”

She’d definitely gotten there. No one had ever pushed her as Galen did, demanded what he did. And somehow, Vance’s hands-on restraint had felt like the same demand—and had let her go further. She’d submitted to the Masters before, but never…never like this. Never been taken so far. Been left so clear and sparkling inside.

As she rubbed her cheek against his thigh, she thought about the creek in the back pasture in Iowa. Frozen until the spring thaw. Then the little stream would flood, and the dirt and debris of the long winter would be scoured away, leaving the water so clear that even the tiny stones on the bottom could be seen.

The couch dipped as Vance sat down. He picked her up and set her in his lap. Her knees and calves rested on Galen’s thighs. Despite the discomfort of having Vance’s iron-hard arm behind her tender back, she loved being in his arms. With a happy sigh, she laid her cheek against his broad chest.

He pulled the elastic tie from her hair and tossed it to Galen. Her hair spilled down over her shoulders in a soft, cool wave.

After tucking the tie away, Galen picked up a blanket—Vance must have tossed it on the couch—and spread it over her legs and stomach. Snuggly, snuggly, snuggly. He smoothed the fabric, stroking her legs. “Should I ask what else you did in my toy bag?” he asked.

She started and bit her lip. Christ in pigtails, if she told him about the anal plugs, he’d probably hitch her to the cross for more flogging.

Vance’s chest bounced with his laugh. “From her expression, I’d say you better check the rest of your equipment.”

She tried not to grin. Vance liked to examine his bag’s contents before a scene, but Galen usually cleaned and set up his stuff right after using it. He rarely messed with his bag before a scene. That’s why she’d chosen to sabotage his stuff rather than Vance’s.

Well…and because she’d been mad at him. At the time.

Galen gave a grunt of exasperation. “You are a sore trial to me, pet. So. Aside from my toy bag, have you done anything else of which we’d disapprove?”

“Sometimes you really sound like a Harvard grad.” Her attempt at humor didn’t help the tightening in her stomach. If they found out about her hacking, the two Feds would have her head—or worse, have her arrested. They’d be so pissed off. They must never, ever find out.

The silence of both of the men warned her that she’d woken their suspicions. But she…couldn’t manage to lie. She didn’t want to lie. “Nothing that concerns you.”

Vance tightened his hand on her shoulder, his eyes shrewd. “Everything about you is of interest, sweetheart.” His lips tipped up. “Especially if we wouldn’t be pleased.”

How could she feel so happy with their attention—and so worried? When she dragged her gaze from his, she realized Rainie stood nearby, waiting to be noticed.

Yay, saved by the girl. “Hey, you waiting for one of us?”

Quite properly, Rainie didn’t talk to the submissive but waited for a Dom to speak.

“Go ahead, Rainie,” Galen said.

“Sir, if you’re done, Master Z hoped you’d join him and the others in the main room. They’re near the center.”

“All right. Please tell him we’ll be there shortly.”

Dismissed, Rainie moved away, shooting a worried glance back over her shoulder at Sally.

Galen leaned forward to tap Sally’s chin. “We’ll discuss your refusal to answer another time. For right now, how does your back feel?”

Thank you, God. She leaned forward and wiggled her shoulders. “I’m okay.”

“Good. You may put on your skirt,” Vance said. “Leave your breasts free for my enjoyment.”

As she slid off his lap, she felt her face flush. Yet a thrill ran along her nerves. She’d always envied subs who had their own Doms.

As a trainee, once a scene was over and aftercare done, she would have been sent back to work. But the Feds considered her “theirs,” even if temporary, and instead of dismissing her, they were keeping her close. For more than just a scene. Had she ever been so happy?

“Drink this, imp.” Galen handed her a bottle of water before putting his hand on her back—in a nonsore area—to keep her beside him. She looked up to see Vance on her other side, and the…rightness…of the arrangement settled into her heart.

The Masters and Mistresses—the ones with the official titles—were in a sitting area in a rough circle. Olivia and Anne bracketed Cullen on a couch. Most of the rest sat in chairs, with Sam, Nolan, and Jake standing. Even Jake was there.

“Galen, Vance.” Master Z motioned toward an empty couch.

After putting Sally’s water on an end table, Vance sat down in the middle of the couch with Galen to his right. The two Doms pulled her down and arranged her so she lay, faceup, her head and shoulders on Galen’s thighs.

Her butt rubbed against Vance’s jeans. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

“I don’t see any other submissives, Z. Is it a problem if Sally is here?” Galen asked.

When Sally turned her head, trying to see, Galen laid his hand on her cheek, stalling her. “Close your eyes, pet,” he said softly. “You’re here for our pleasure, not your entertainment.”

“You’re welcome to have your toy,” Master Z said, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “We released the others to spend time together and have something to eat.”

Oh, that sounded like much more fun. Sally tried to sit up.

Galen put his hand between her breasts, pressing down strongly enough to push the air from her lungs. “Did I give you permission to move?”

But… She looked at Vance, who had a softer heart. Maybe…

He met her gaze, reading her question. “No.”

Fine. Maybe she wasn’t certain if she loved them—but she was positive she didn’t like them right now.

OH, THEY WERE on a little subbie’s shit list now. Vance smothered his laugh and saw his partner doing the same. The imp was in for a shock. They hadn’t planned to get her off so publicly but, in all reality, he didn’t mind the audience. The behavior of other Doms—especially other Masters—had gotten fucking annoying. Yes, she’d been a trainee for a long time, so the Masters considered her under their care. But that time was over.

He figured that both the collar around her neck and playing with her now would be an unspoken way of drawing a line in the sand.

“Before we start, tell me what happened to the man who attacked Sally?” Z asked Dan.

“Borup did some time in county and has to go through anger management and alcohol counseling.” Dan frowned at Galen and Vance. “For some reason—which I don’t want to know anything about—he sent Sally’s landlord more than enough money to cover cleaning, repairs, and replacements for what he busted.”

That “reason” had been Anne. The bounty hunter winked at Vance. Mistress Anne not only despised abusive Doms, but she considered it a treat to beat the shit out of them, and she’d persuaded Vance to let her take his place in giving Borup a lesson.

“Do I need to take steps?” Z asked.

“Don’t think so, Z.” Anne smiled sweetly. “Not only has his health suffered recently, but rumor says some annoyed Fed made him think he could get picked up for slavery.”

Sally opened her eyes to stare at Anne and Galen in disbelief.

“Indeed.” Z’s lips quirked. “In that case—”

“No, I won’t!”

Vance turned at the woman’s shout and saw Uzuri.

Hand on her hip, the trainee shook her finger at one of the newer Doms.

A few shades darker than Uzuri, the Dom looked absolutely startled. Six-two, probably two-ten pounds—all muscle. Shaved head, dark brown eyes, classically handsome. Considering his looks and the way he was narrowing his eyes, the man wasn’t accustomed to being turned down. “Why?”

She tossed her head defiantly, making the beads in her kinky hair clatter. “You only want me because I’m black.”