Nibbling kisses, each one like a tiny massage, arousing sensual response and emotional pain that held her in a strangling grip. Tears were moving down her face, and she didn’t know why, couldn’t stop them, and she hoped the mask would absorb them so the men wouldn’t see them roll beyond it, down her chin.

Lucas’s large, fine-boned hand was on her other thigh. He slid his hands into the cuffs holding her spread open and made an adjustment that spread her even further apart, so she choked around the gag at the sensation of increased vulnerability. His hair brushed her leg, that soft, straight hair.

“What do you put here?” He tilted his head, just the tip of his nose brushing that sensitive pocket of bone

formed between the juncture of her thigh and her pussy. The heat of his breath tickled the fine hairs of her mound, and arousal made her feel as if there were a shimmer of electrons on her skin. The room became warmer, it seemed. “It smells like baby powder, Matt,” he said quietly.

“Like she trims her pussy with a razor and soothes her skin with baby powder. And some lavender here.

Maybe lotion. I love the way women put different fragrances on themselves.” He rubbed his nose against her clit deliberately, shooting sparks of sensation straight into her womb. His mouth was so close, so close to her. She’d never had a man…do that to her, but she’d watched the movie The Big Easy on one of her “off” nights. Savannah remembered Ellen Barkin’s sensuous expressions in the scene that implied Dennis Quaid’s Cajun character was doing what Lucas’ proximity suggested. She’d sat, still and motionless in the study, her pillow hugged up to her body, wondering if the scene accurately reflected what a man’s skillful mouth could do between a woman’s thighs.

“Like a flower garden,” he said dreamily. “Something different every time you inhale.”

Without warning or hesitation, he put his mouth fully over her, his tongue delving deep within her. She surged forward, shocked by the heat of his lips and tongue, but of course with the bindings, she could go nowhere.

She could see nothing, and she found she wanted the anchor of Matt’s eyes, something to focus her, his reaction to Lucas’s servicing her with his mouth. Something that would help her keep resistance and basic lust to the forefront, but with her ability to speak removed, her eyes blinded by the mask, she could only face the reality of Lucas’s miraculous mouth and what it was unleashing within her.

He sucked on her clit, made appreciative, wet noises against her, and her hips responded, lifting and rising the infinitesimal amount permitted by the restraints, creating glorious friction, and she strengthened her efforts, following instinct to drive it to a pinnacle.

“None of that now.” It was Matt’s voice, Matt’s hand now on her back.

A more erotic stimulation she couldn’t have anticipated, to have one man’s mouth between her legs and another’s hands upon her. He did something with the waist strap and suddenly Lucas adjusted his position.

Motors hummed, and her knees left the table fully, perhaps a couple inches, so she couldn’t move in a rhythm, only sit, helplessly squirming and gasping against the gag as Lucas’s mouth returned, his tongue delving deep within her pussy again, thrusting, rolling her clit, licking.

“I can smell her, now,” Jon spoke from the end of the table.

“Same here.” Peter responded directly in front of her. “She’s got a sweet pussy, just as you said, Lucas.”

“I want her to come, Matt,” Lucas said, lifting his mouth from her just a fraction.

She shook her head. No. No… But hadn’t she just wanted that? But no, not like this, not when everything was up to them.

“I think she’s refusing you, Lucas.”

Matt’s cool voice came from the end of the table again. “Make her come in the next two minutes. Despite her best attempts to resist. Mouth only.”

“Done,” Lucas said softly, and moved in to close the deal.

She expected him to redouble his physical effort, had tensed and braced herself against it, and so was surprised when there was a pause, the noise of wheels. He’d taken a seat in a chair, pulled it up between

her legs. The fine hair over his temples brushed the inside of her thighs as he moved in close again.

“You know…” He administered a tiny lick on her clit that made her shudder. “Eating pussy is my very favorite thing to do with a woman. I love the smell, the taste, the feel of her thighs as she sits on my face.

I love squeezing her ass in my hands as I shove her hard against me, taking away her choice, pushing her into that pleasurable abyss. I love to listen to her scream as she falls. I love knowing when she falls to the bottom, it will be my arms there to catch her.

We’ll be here to catch you,” he whispered huskily. “All of us. Stop being so afraid. Don’t you know how much you mean to Matt, to all of us?”

She made a noise of forceful and furious protest against the gag.

“Didn’t sound flattering, Lucas.” Ben spoke this time.

“One minute,” Jon warned.

“More than I need, though nowhere close to how much I want.”

Lucas put his mouth over her clit, sucking her back into the heat and wet. He began to lick her, strong, sure strokes, not too fast, pushing up against the volatile area, starting at the bottom, pushing up on it again, scoring her lightly with his teeth.

That bite and push again, as if pressuring that tight bud of flesh was like nudging a switch.

Things were happening inside her, things that defied description. A spiral of reaction that had strings drawing taut everywhere, her whole body starting to hold itself tight as if in some form of self-imposed paralysis. Her breath darted in and out through her nose, her teeth sinking into the ball. Something gathered, gathered, just out of reach. No, she couldn’t reach for it…couldn’t stop herself from lunging for it…

“Come for him, Savannah.” Matt snapped out the order. “Now. At my command.”

The orgasm exploded from somewhere between Lucas’s mouth and her pussy and erupted through her.

Going over that pinnacle, her brain reversed its will. Instead of freezing her in place, now she was wriggling gracelessly, helplessly. In her suspended restraints, screaming against the gag, she made words that could only be heard in her own mind, shocking her.

Touch me…touch me… Never stop.

She wanted Matt. But he could not hear her wish with the gag, and what little mind she continued to control told her to be glad.

It wasn’t just about the battle of wills. If she threw open the door to her heart, he could deny her. Leave her with her wishes echoing against the walls, empty and desolate, like a house where everything was gone, leaving only the harsh regret of memory. Like a child being told that little girls who ran to their Daddy to get hugs wouldn’t amount to anything except a takeover acquisition for some man.

She felt suddenly like the men in the room were all weapons turned against her, the sword of Eden, turning in every direction, shining upon her weakness, her every shortcoming.

With so little sexual experience, she didn’t know if this was normal, this flood of overpowering emotions that made her feel completely adrift on an unfamiliar ocean. Flailing, she tried to pull herself out of that darkness, onto the far more rational thought that this was similar to eating too much chocolate, or taking

one too many Valium to help her sleep. Those things made her body no longer in her control, subject to macabre dreams or frenetic nervous energy she could not rein in. It was a physical, chemical reaction. It said nothing about herself, who she was or what she truly wanted.

Lucas kept his nose and mouth pressed hard against her pussy, continuing to eat her out. Running his tongue over her clit, he dipped into the well between her legs, making a noise of pleasure at the taste of her come on those sensuous lips. His hair brushed her thighs, the planes of his face touching her as he continued the soft nibbles through the hard aftershocks. She bleated at each touch like a lost sheep, a sheep who in this moment had no doubt who the shepherd was who held her fate. She wanted to see Matt with the fervor of a dying wish, and her hand clutched into fists to keep from dropping that kerchief, from begging with her body what her mouth was thankfully prevented from saying.

No. She wasn’t that far gone. This was a whole new situation, like the first time she handled opening a plant on her own. There would be some weak moments, some stumbling as she figured out her approach to get the upper hand with the players who didn’t think she had the right to the upper hand.

There is no situation in life that cannot be explained by the same principles we use in business.Geoffrey’s voice resounded in her mind, hammering the point home. “If a person is making you feel something you don’t want to feel, take the reins away from them. If you can control yourself, you can control the situation, bring the tiller back to your hand. Keep your wits about you and wait for the opportunity.”

Sound advice, though she was certain even her dispassionate father could not have predicted this situation. And somehow, hearing his voice in her head now, thinking of applying his logic to this situation, swept her with a desolation that made her wish to be free of them all, her father and these men and Matt, in her bed with the covers over her head. And then the most unnerving thought of all intruded on the image.

What if Matt were there, putting his knee on her bed, lying down on top of her covers, curving that powerful body around her? Scooping up the covers and her into the heat and warmth of him, providing a shelter that was simply that, a place to draw strength and sanctuary, demanding nothing she was not willing to give? Or take it a step further…accepting something she’d always wanted to give but had been afraid to offer, mainly because no one had ever come right out and asked for her heart.

Get a grip, Savannah. He’s won the round, that’s it. He wasn’t proving anything except that she could enjoy oral sex, like any independent, healthy woman. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t enjoy this, even if she had been dragged kicking and screaming to it?