Page 52 of Trouble

Try as I might to focus on his work—that’s what he wants, and he deserves my obedience—I can’t. Though I’m naked, he’s still in his black T-shirt and boxer briefs. I’m desperate to please him, so I try again, but it’s no use. Then his words from earlier hit me.

I need to know that you trust me, and I need to trust you.

I promised then that I’d never lie to him.

I’m in charge. He’s made that abundantly clear. He wants to bring me pleasure.

“I need you to take your shirt off,” I say, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

Declan’s lips curve into a slow smile, the slight move causing my world to tilt. My axis shifts, but only for a moment before resetting itself.

When he grasps his collar at the back of his neck and tears his shirt off with one hand, Cade sucks in a breath. His attention is heady, heavy, weighted. He likes what he sees.

Now that Declan’s chest is bare, I focus on our reflection. This time, I see nothing but perfection. His dark skin, dusted with even darker hair, my smooth skin, striped with green and black rope. The design weaves across my chest, under my breasts, over my shoulders, and down to my toes. I’m completely bound, and yet I feel like I’ve got his heart in my hand. Like if I told him to get down and kiss my feet, he would.

The man watches me with reverence and longing. When I check on Cade, his expression is just as devout. Though his reaction is to more than just me.

With a hand on my shoulder, Declan brushes his lips against my ear. “Now you’re in control. Tell me what you want, and I’ll show you that even when you’re bound by me, you call the shots.”

The words slide out like silk against my lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he zeroes in on Cade.

Straightening, I say, “You said I’m in control.”My tone is full of confidence, authority.

Slowly, he drags his attention back to me. Lips pressed together, he regards me in the mirror. As if he finally sees his beautiful work. How he’s tied the knots, how the ropes press into my skin. How my chest heaves with desire.

Desire for him.

God, I want him so badly.

“You are in control,” he says. The words are clear, but his voice is pained, like he’s admitting to so much more.

And god, why does that thrill me?

Filling my lungs, I turn to Cade. I care for him, and I need to make sure we’re all on the same page.

His grin is wide, his eyes bright. “I want him to fuck you too.”

Molten lava travels through my veins at his words.

“Put her up on the table,” Cade instructs. His involvement instantly turns that fire blazing in my core into a full-on inferno.

Declan lifts me easily, then places me on his dining room table. It’s a deep, dark wood surrounded by chairs in the same shade. He moves the one at the head of the table to the side and then pulls my legs so they hang off the edge.

When he steps between my thighs, he slides his tongue along his lower lip. But when he drags his focus to my face, his expression is nothing but earnest. In this moment, the world disappears, and it’s just the two of us.

“I really need to kiss you.”

“Please,” I murmur.

Without a moment of hesitation, he slips one hand behind my neck and pulls me close. At first, our lips brush gently. But it doesn’t remain that way for long. Declan nips at my bottom lip and swipes his tongue along it. Pulling me so close that my entire body is pressed up against his, he delves into my mouth, exploring. His hard chest, the rough scrape of his chest hair against my skin, are nothing short of ecstasy. The rope tugs on my legs as I writhe against him, seeking pressure and pleasure.

Declan shifts, and his length, though confined to his boxer briefs, rocks against my clit. “You’re soaking my dining room table,” he says between kisses.

“I’d lick it up,” Cade says, that simple phrase sending heat searing up my spine. He’s watching. He’s rapt. And soon enough, he’ll be here with us.

“Let me grab a condom,” Declan says, releasing me. He strides away quickly, leaving me alone with the other man I’m involved with.