Page 40 of The Dom with a Safeword

She wiggled a little, testing his hold. Her arms were free and gripping the table cloth tight in her fists. One large male hand spanned her lower back, pressing down firmly but not painfully. The other hand was wrapped around the back of her neck. She could turn her head side to side, but couldn’t lift up. Though all her limbs were free, it still felt pretty damn confining.

Ghost. She stamped the word into her memory. She could always say ghost and she knew without a doubt, Q would make sure she was okay.

Q. Sabrina looked for her. She turned her head to the left and watched her approach. She stalked, just like the lioness Sabrina had pictured only a week ago. Her smug smirk made Sabrina’s insides clench in anticipation.

Q moved in behind her, out of Sabrina’s line of sight. She stared at the cracked paint on the wall, waiting. The light touch on the back of her dress made her jump. Q chuckled. The zipper slid down, exposing her bare back.

“Wait!” She tensed then tried to pull up. Jude leaned harder. Though she wore a bra, pretty soon she was going to be half-naked – she’d chosen to wear a thong so panty lines wouldn’t show. Stupid vanity. Half-naked? More like nine tenths. And Jude was watching.

If she shouted “stop” or “ghost” would she upset Q? They’d barely begun and, in a way, she’d agreed to this. Wimping out so early seemed wrong.

“Wait, Q.” Jude’s terse order made Q falter then stop the slow descent of the zipper.

Relief filtered through Sabrina. She caught the tail end of a searching look Jude had sent her way.

Her heart thudded as they discussed her fate.

“Why? I thought I was in charge this time?”

“You are. But this isn’t the start of a race. Slow down. Let’s do it this way.”

Jude lifted his hand from her lower back and the spot felt suddenly cold. She almost complained but caught herself. No way would she give any indication she enjoyed this. When his hand came down again, she could tell he was gathering handfuls of her dress. Inexorably, like the raising of the curtain on a stage, he was hauling it up.

Then the hand dragging up her dress switched from hard and heavy, to a lighter grasp. Q had taken over the task while Jude went back to holding her down at neck and lower back. Her dress was staying on. The threat of sudden, terrible nakedness was gone.

Yet that hold of Jude’s on her – so firm, unrelenting, and male. His calluses rubbed her nape. He’d shown her such consideration without relinquishing a single bit of control. And without him speaking a word to her, she felt their connection sink in, from where his palm touched her skin, and spread through her flesh.

The hem of the dress reached her upper thighs. Trembling, she adjusted her grip on the tablecloth, and put her forehead to the cloth. If they looked, they’d see her thong was drenched.

A touch of cool night air hit her bared ass. So vulnerable.

Q came into her vision again. She looked down at Sabrina curiously.

Maybe she could appeal to her too-nice side.

“Q,” she said in a small voice. “Just…just be nice.”

Q smiled. A good sign, right? “I don’t think you really want me to be nice, little girl.”

Uh-oh. The thrilling meaning of those words quivered all the way to her bare toes. She clenched them into the cool timber floor, because squeezing her thighs together was too obvious.

“I’ve never seen you sexier than this. Waiting for me.” Q seemed fascinated with looking at her body. Her fingers touched Sabrina through the dress fabric, just above where Jude pressed on the small of her back. Q stroked her, shifting lower, and Sabrina shut her eyes. Her hand must have travelled over Jude’s then the touch returned on her naked flesh, stopping when Q reached the cleft of her ass. She drew little circles on Sabrina’s skin.

Warmth spread like a small wave, rippling between her legs, making her throb. Imagining where Q was looking, knowing where she was touching, and what she intended to do…Sabrina groaned and wriggled. The edge of the table was just too high for her clit to grind against.

At that Jude leaned in and nuzzled her ear then nipped her. The sharp pain made her gasp. “Is she getting wet, Q?”

The grating rumble of his voice and the intimate question made everything so much hotter, sexier, and naughtier. She was ass up and pinned. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to. Limp, flattened onto the table, she heard her own harsh, wanting breaths. They might have weighed her down with stone.

“Let me check.”

No. No. She tried to move her hips away from Q, but couldn’t get far.

But Q’s fingers slipped under the thong and along her slit, gliding up and down as slickly as a tongue along melting ice cream.

She choked back a whimper.

“Yes.” Q stopped and Sabrina heard her swallow. “She’s very wet.”