Her full breasts, unrestricted by the black lace, tumble freely into my waiting hands. It’s been years, six torturous years since I could touch her like this and make her feel good. I skim my thumbs across her nipples and she shudders, arching into my touch. Watching her nipples tighten as I stroke them, I’m reminded of little pink gumdrops, my favorite candy, and I bet she tastes just as sweet.

“You have beautiful tits, sweetheart,” I tell her.

Macey looks up, continuing to sit perched on the bed while I stroke her breasts and nipples. She presses her thighs together—the movement subtle, but not unnoticed.

“Are those panties getting wet for me already?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmurs, pushing her breasts into my hands, letting me massage and fondle her delicate skin. A knock at the door interrupts us, and her half-lidded eyes fly open, her expression puzzled. “Expecting someone?”

“Yes. Sit tight.”

I answer the door and let Oliver inside. Part of me is beginning to understand why Hale called me in for backup in his session with Brielle—he might not have known how to handle the depth of his emotional connection to the submissive under his command. No way in hell do I want to explore the similarities there between us.

“Thanks for coming,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Of course. However I can help, I’m here.”

I turn toward Macey to find she’s crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts, and is sitting straight as a stick on the bed like someone jammed a pole up her ass. Remember when I said I’d be calling the shots, princess?

I stop in the center of the room, and Oliver stills next to me. “Macey, come here.”

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Keeping one arm over her chest to cover herself, she slides down off the bed until her feet touch the floor. With her tits jiggling as she moves toward us, Macey’s wide gaze pings between me, Oliver, and the floor.

“Remove your hands, please,” I say when she’s standing directly in front of us.

Her eyes round even more. “Reece?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to use that safe word already, and over such a simple request. Show him those gorgeous tits.”

She swallows, her nerves evident, though her gaze never wavers from mine. Her lips tighten as she lowers her hands to her side, leaving her in just the black lacy panties that I’m itching to tear from her body. Her stomach is flat, but soft, and her hips curve in that delicious hourglass shape I love on a woman. She looks damn good topless.

I glance at Oliver to see his throat work as he swallows, but ever the consummate Dominant, he appears relaxed, and of course says nothing.

Just as I sense her nerves and confusion peak, I introduce him at last. “This is Oliver. He’ll be assisting with your training today.”

“Um . . .” Macey shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

“Oliver, this is Macey.” I nod to the half-naked beauty in our presence.

He extends his hand toward her and she reaches out dutifully and shakes it, but I can tell her head is spinning. She’s never normally this quiet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Macey,” Oliver says. “I work here at Crave, teaching classes to couples who are interested in exploring BDSM.”

I know she assumed it would just be the two of us—hell, I did too—but at the last minute, I decided to mix it up.

Her eyes find mine, and when I give her a tight nod, she says, “Okay.”

Oliver chuckles, his face brightening as he does. “It’s okay to feel nervous. Most people do their first time.”

“I’m not nervous,” she lies.

“Good then. We’ll jump right in,” I say.

Turning to address Oliver, I palm one of Macey’s weighty breasts in my hand. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

He knows I’m giving him an open initiation to touch her, but Macey doesn’t. It’s like Dom code for, Yes, you can play with my new toy. I have to do this, I tell myself. She’s not mine, and she never will be.

Oliver lifts his hand to her other breast, brushing the back of his knuckles over the generous curve of it, and I instantly want to beat him within an inch of his life. The cocksucker. I take a deep breath and reach for my control.

“She’s perfect,” Oliver says, his tone low. Macey watches me while he strokes her, and I have to tamp down the murderous feelings raging inside me. “Are these C’s?” he asks, his voice slightly husky.

“D’s,” she corrects him, her voice small.

“And real,” he adds, feeling the weight of her soft breast in his hand. He plucks her nipple firmly between his thumb and middle finger, and Macey lets out a swift grunt of surprise. “Is ménage one of your hard limits?” Oliver smiles at her sweetly, continuing to caress her breast.

Macey’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

“We’ll get to all that later,” I say, answering for her. Or maybe I just don’t want to hear her answer. “Just some simple play to start first. Macey’s a virgin to all this.”

Oliver nods, then steps away to retrieve my toy bag.

I take Macey’s hand and lead her to the bed. “You okay so far?”

She nods. “Yes.”

At my request, she lays down in the center of the bed, leaving Oliver and me free to sit on either side of her on the oversized mattress. As I slide her panties down her legs and drop them from the end of the bed, Oliver sets an arrangement of implements on the bed beside me. They’re all harmless, but that doesn’t mean Macey’s eyes haven’t gone as wide as saucers.




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