Her retreat bumped her into the concrete wall called Vance. He gripped her shoulders, firmly enough to stymie any chance of moving. He had her restrained without rope or chains.

A tremor ran through her at the exciting sensation. Dammit. “Is all this crowding necessary?”

Galen cupped her chin in his palm, and his gaze effortlessly trapped hers. “I know we scare you, pretty little pet.” His lips twitched. “In your case, that’s a good thing. But don’t let fear lead you into being disrespectful, eh?”

He held her gaze…held it and held it, and with each fleeting second, she sank, dropping into acceptance, into calmness.

After an ocean of time had passed, he murmured, “Good.”

When he took his hand away from her face, she’d have staggered if Vance hadn’t had his body pressed to hers.

“Bondage table?” Vance asked.

Galen nodded and led the way across the room. Dressed in black slacks, button-down shirt, and shoes, he presented a smoother appearance than Vance—also in black but wearing jeans, tight T-shirt, leather belt, and boots. Forceful versus laid-back, sleekly muscular versus football-player size, darkly Greek versus Scottish warrior, smooth versus rugged. They shouldn’t be able to work together, let alone co-top, but they managed without missing a single step.

Vance tucked her against his side, his arm behind her giving her no choice except to follow.

Her heart was already hammering so violently she felt as if she were choking.

How could they affect her like this? She didn’t have this problem with the rest of the Masters. Sure, each of the Masters could and had made her submit, but they didn’t worry her. Maybe these two were more frightening because they ganged up on her? Every time she tried to take a stand, one would push and the other would trip her.

But she didn’t like being…intimidated. Not by them. “Listen, I don’t…”

Galen turned to regard her, and the words dried right up in her mouth. Was he always so…intense?

“Stand here, Sally.” His dark clothing made his eyes even blacker and more ominous. He ran one finger over the edge of her halter top, down the curve of one breast. “Remove this, Vance.”

Vance undid the ties and tossed her top onto a chair.

For the first time in forever, she wanted to shield herself. Her hands came up and, at a glance from Galen, went down. Galen studied her, his gaze lingering on her boy briefs.

Her breath stuttered as warmth pooled low in her belly. Damn him, she didn’t want to have sex with either one of them…and yet, she really, really did. When his lips quirked, a flush heated her cheeks.

“Not this time, pet,” he said. His smile transformed his face from terrifying to gorgeous. Compelling. “We’ll enjoy your body eventually, but tonight is for you.”

She stared at him. Seriously? But they liked sex. She’d heard the submissives marveling over how much they liked sex. Was something wrong with her that they didn’t desire her?

Galen patted the top of the bondage table and turned away without seeing if she obeyed.

Then she realized why he hadn’t worried. Vance gripped her waist and set her on the table like a doll to play with. Under his tight black shirt, his shoulders were huge and his biceps curved like boulders. He made her feel tiny.

“Down you go.” He pushed her onto her back.

To her embarrassment, her bare breasts showed just how bunched and tight her nipples had become. She tried to look away.

“Relax, Sally.” Tilting her chin up, he bent and kissed her. His lips were firm, his movements slow as he coaxed a response. When his mouth left hers, she tried to follow, and he chuckled. Then his hand was on her cheek, his mouth over hers, and he turned the kiss deep. Carnal. Making her tingle in a long surge downward.

And before she’d even caught her breath, he was using the straps on the table to restrain her arms to her sides. He put another over her waist.

“Did you know I like tying up naughty submissives?” The hunger in Vance’s gaze confirmed his words. His hands were firm as he roped her thighs together and then her ankles. A strap went across her knees.

Finished, he crossed his arms and surveyed his work.

She lifted her head and saw the ropes and straps covering her body. Jeez.

“Missed one.” Vance pushed her down and pulled another strap across the top of her forehead so she couldn’t lift her head. Couldn’t move at all. Feeling more immobilized than she’d ever experienced, she couldn’t keep from squirming. From attempting to get free.

Her body understood she was caught—trapped—and the table beneath her seemed to shake.

Vance’s mouth tipped up. “Now that’s just pretty,” he said before giving her an easy kiss. “She’s ready, pard.”

Both Doms walked around the table, tugging and checking the straps.

“Numbness, tingling? Cold?” Galen asked, his New England accent broadening his deep baritone.

Her attempt to shake her head got nowhere and set up an instinctive flutter in the pit of her stomach.

Vance’s smile increased at whatever he saw in her face. Although he seemed more easygoing than Galen, the depths in his dark blue eyes were disturbing.

“Well?” Galen prompted, pulling her attention to him.

“No, Sir,” she whispered, then scowled. Where oh where, has my backbone gone? “I’m really quite fine, thank you, Master Galen. And how are you today?”

“You going to chatter the way you do for other Doms?” Galen asked.

“Of course.”

He pulled a leather strip from their toy bag and tossed it to Vance. “Gag her.”

“Hey, I don’t like gags.” She started to struggle. What if she needed to talk?

Galen took out two small rubber balls and squeezed them to make them squeak. “These are if you need to safeword.” He tucked one into her left hand, then the right. “Show me you can use them.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She made the balls squeak and continued until they sounded as if someone was murdering a flock of baby birds.

“Sally.” Just one word in Galen’s bottomless voice and Sally couldn’t force her fingers to continue. Even though the squeaky toys went silent, her pulse made waves of sound in her head.

“Open, sweetheart.” Vance lifted the leather strip, snorted when her mouth clamped shut, then pressed a spot on the hinges of her jaw to open it. As he pushed the gag in and strapped it on, her hand closed convulsively on a rubber ball, getting a high squeak.

Vance leaned a forearm beside her and smiled down, his light brown hair falling over his forehead. “Too tight?”

“Umh.”

“You are so cute.” His grin was devastatingly handsome and totally scary because he didn’t appear concerned about her answer at all. “One blink is yes. No blink means no. Is the gag too tight?”

Everything in her yelled for her to blink, but the straps weren’t uncomfortable. What scared her was their lack of concern for what she wanted or what she thought. They’d just shut her right up. She glowered.

His smile widened. “We pissed off a submissive, Galen,” he said.

“Oh, damn.” The amusement in Galen’s response made Sally want to hit him. He rested his hand against the side of her face. “We’re not going to hurt you, pet. Not even going to touch your pussy. We’ll play with you some and release you.”

Her muscles untensed…slightly. But why hadn’t he explained earlier? Her eyes narrowed.

“Why didn’t I tell you before?” Galen drew a finger over her cheek and around her ear. She saw no mercy in his face. “I didn’t want to.”

His voice wasn’t cruel…just matter-of-fact. They’d do what they wanted. She knew they weren’t careless like some Doms, but they were dominant, no ifs, ands, or buts. Why was the knowledge so very exciting?

With a faint smile, Galen moved down to the end of the table and grasped her left foot. Rubbing, massaging with firm hands.

Oh God, it felt good. Her feet always hurt after a couple of hours of going barefoot. She couldn’t keep back the sigh of pleasure.

As Galen continued, something brushed her stomach and moved slowly toward her breasts. Her eyes popped open.

Leaning on one arm, Vance trailed a finger across her belly, just above the waist strap. Making circles. Crosses. Each movement brought his touch higher on her body. His face wasn’t—wasn’t excited or filled with lust. He was simply amusing himself.

His light touch on her belly was so different from Galen’s strong hands on her foot that she felt…confused.

Galen switched to her other leg, and oh God, she might die from the pleasure. Why were they being sweet to her?

Before she could settle into enjoying Galen’s ministrations, Vance ran a finger along the extremely sensitive underside of her breast. Her back tried to arch—the straps kept her flat. Jeez.

She looked up to see him studying her face, reading her every little twitch. Undoubtedly mentally marking that area as one “of interest.” His finger circled her left breast, then her right.

She stared back. He was just plain gorgeous, his size and big nose keeping him from being too pretty, but otherwise, he’d take the lead in the hottie category. The laughter lines fanning out from his eyes contrasted with the square jaw and firm lips that warned he could be a very, very dangerous man.

She felt her nipples contract as he spiraled in toward the aching peaks.

Then Galen massaged her calf, hard enough to hurt. Taking his time. When he finally moved to her left calf, the right was gloriously limp and happy.

Vance’s fingers closed on her left nipple, teasing and sweet, and her clit began to tingle. Galen said he wouldn’t play with her pussy, but her body wanted sex. Now.

Vance moved down to her legs.

Galen took his place. He cupped her breasts and pinched one nipple. Controlled but hard. Her back tried again to arch. Electricity sizzled straight to her core.

With her legs roped together, Vance’s confident hands stroking up and down the front of her thighs were tantalizing her aroused clit.

Wetness seeped into her briefs. Like a drug, lust pulsed in her bloodstream. What were they doing to her?

Galen switched to her right breast, and the cruel pinch was a shocking contrast to Vance’s easy massage. He rolled her nipples, one and then the other, relentlessly enough to make her squirm and test her straps. Nothing gave.

She made a garbled sound through her gag.

Galen’s smile flashed white, transforming his stern face into sheer sexiness and increasing her nervousness. She couldn’t fall back on sarcasm. Had been completely silenced. A shiver shook her as the last lingering hope of manipulating them disappeared.

“That’s the girl,” Galen murmured. “Give it up.” He closed his hands on her breasts, massaging powerfully enough to approach pain, and she felt her tissues swelling, tightening the skin, increasing the sensitivity.

Vance had reached the tops of her thighs and skimmed his palms upward past her pussy on each side to stroke over her briefs on her mound.

Her clit begged to be touched—and the instinctive effort to open her legs failed. The ropes kept them pressed firmly together. A crease flickered in Vance’s cheek as he ran his finger next to the strap crossing her belly, then glided back to her pelvis.

Her body tensed—oh please, touch lower—and then Galen’s hand curved around her throat. Not pressing, just there…yet a very palpable threat. Her gaze shot to his unreadable face. His eyes were fixed on her.

Vance scraped his fingernails along the top of her low-cut briefs, on her tender belly. The skin tingled in his wake.

“Pretty Sally,” Galen murmured, “can’t move, can’t yell.” His lips curved slightly. “Can’t come.” His hand still rested ever so gently on her throat in an unstated threat.

He kissed her cheek, his lips grazing her jaw, along her neck. His scent was spicy with a subtle richness, and she breathed him in.

Vance licked over her left nipple.

Her brain spun and threw her thoughts into disarray. Gentle and painful, sweet and cruel.

Her breasts ached; her pussy throbbed. Burning. Needing. Vance nibbled lightly on her bare shoulder and down her inner arm. His lips were warm, firm, and velvety contrasting with the slight scrape of his five-o’clock shadow.

Galen lightly bit her right nipple, sending a wildfire of sensation to her clit.

Oh God. She couldn’t think.