The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

He went to the bedside lamp and clicked it on before taking a long sip of wine and set down his glass. His focus went to the man who was surveying the room for the first time, and Clay’s tone was both playful and serious.

“You’re going to let her talk to you like that?”

“No, you’re right.” Travis gave me a firm look. “Take off your shirt and your jeans.”

The shirt was easy and fluttered to the carpet, but the jeans were harder because they molded to my legs, plus I’d have to take off my new shoes. I undid the button and dropped the zipper as Clay sat on his bed, pulled off his shoes and socks, and lounged across the mattress to watch.

I wriggled my hips, pushing down the denim, but when my jeans were wadded around my knees, Travis put a hand on my shoulder and abruptly shoved me forward. I reached out, catching myself with my hands on the mattress, leaving me bent over the end of the bed.

The first crack of his palm on my ass startled me, but not Clay, because a pleased smile burned across his lips. Warmth bloomed in my center. The spanking hadn’t been hard, but I was smart enough to know this was just the warm-up. It was so much better when it built up to the real punishment.

Like I’d done to Clay all those months ago in his study, I wiggled my ass to taunt Travis, although this time I wasn’t naked. I wore a black and nude bra and matching bikini panties that were trimmed delicately with lace.

“Fuck,” Travis growled. “That ass is gonna get it.”

It wasn’t a new experience to look at Clay while Travis doled out spankings, but now he was right here in the flesh. Close enough to touch me, which he did. He sat up and his fingers curled around my wrists, cuffing them. My eyes widened and my mouth went dry at this type of sexy restraint.

It was what I’d been craving for so long. Domination by my men together.

Clay’s eyes were electric as he studied my face, watching how every impact of Travis’s palm against my body affected me. His satisfaction was rich when I clenched my teeth and moaned. Travis would have to hit me much harder if he wanted it to punish, because this only felt good. His intent wasn’t to hurt me anyway. I was a slut for pain, but he was a slut for pleasure.

He did put more force behind his hand, increasing the intensity of each smack.

Did Clay like how he could feel the blows his protégé’s gave me? His hold on my wrists made him acutely aware of every jolt and each reverberation as the spankings glanced through my body. I loved it. He peered at me with the artful appreciation of a man watching a chef prepare a decadent meal.

“Mm,” I moaned. My skin was warm and tingling.

Perhaps his palm was getting tired, or maybe he just wanted to keep me guessing, because Travis ran a hand over my back. It smoothed over my sensitized skin, wandered over the swell of my ass, and down the back of my thighs. I wanted to spread my knees and encourage him to explore me elsewhere, but the jeans around my knees hindered that.

His touch was gone as he dropped down behind me and worked to undo the straps of my shoes.

“I like these.” His voice was heavy with lust. “Are they new?”

My breath caught as I stared at Clay. Did he want me to say where I’d gotten them? “Um . . . yeah.”

“I gave them to her,” he looked beyond me to the other man, “as a thank you gift for her help with my house stuff.”

Travis didn’t seem bothered by this, but then again—he was a guy. He probably had no idea how much the shoes cost. He finished undoing the buckles and helped me step out of my jeans, one leg at a time.

He righted himself and cracked a hand against one of my lace-covered cheeks. The loud sound announced how hard he’d hit me, but I just smiled in enjoyment.

“Shit, Clay, you weren’t kidding about her ass of steel.” His voice thickened with desire. “Do you want to take over for me?”

It was like Clay had just been offered the world. He was up off the bed in a heartbeat, moving to stand beside the other man. The mattress sank as Travis put a knee on it and crawled over to me. His hands tangled in my hair and held me still so he could kiss me as Clay delivered his first blow.

He must have believed I was adequately warmed up because his strike was serious. Hot pins and needles danced in the aftermath, making me groan with discomfort and deep satisfaction. Travis’s hands clenched tighter, twisting strands so I couldn’t run and allowed him to drink up my moans as Clay rained fire down on me.

At some point, Clay jerked down my panties, and it must have been a signal to the other man because Travis’s fingertips drifted to the clasp at the back of my bra.

I was naked as I stretched between these two men, and it was hard to hold my position since I was trembling and verged on overload. On one end, I had Clay’s brutal hand crashing down, searing me with pain, and on the other, Travis’s passionate, seductive kiss was branding me in a different way.

How was it I was overwhelmed, and yet dying for more?

The final spank from Clay was rough enough it made a yelp burst from my lips and I tumbled forward into Travis’s arms. He seemed happy with this new development and turned me over so I was seated between his thighs, my back leaning against his chest. It meant he could gaze down the bare slope of my body and watch as Clay took a knee