The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (freda ebook reader .txt) 📕

that while E liked dominating me and carrying out most of Clay’s orders, he much preferred giving me pleasure.

Now it’d been taken off the table.

Was this punishment for missing the session last night . . . or something else?

Clay’s voice dripped with condescension. “It’s called denial. Have you not heard of it?”

E’s eyebrow lifted sharply. “I know what it is.”

The mood in the room devolved and became fraught with tension. The men typically didn’t speak much to each other during a scene, and when they did, it had always been cordial. They were teammates working toward the same goal.

For the first time, they were two predators fighting over the same kill.

Clay was determined to make clear he was the alpha. “Great,” he said dryly. “That’s what I want to do with her tonight.”

His declaration didn’t sit right with E, and he stepped in between me and the camera, blocking my view of Clay and forcing my gaze up onto him. It was clear he was considering how to proceed. Did he bow down, or make his stand?

This isn’t what I want to do, I imagined him saying to me.

I didn’t know what to tell him, or how to convey my thoughts without words. Of course I didn’t want to be denied, but . . . playing with these two men had awakened something inside me. Plus, I trusted Clay. He’d given me so many amazing experiences, the biggest of them all being E. He’d broadened my sexual horizons. He knew what he was doing.

If there was frustration tonight, then he was making a promise of satisfaction later.

Maybe E wanted me to push back, but it wasn’t possible. I was strapped down to the chair, naked and exposed and totally immobile. Couldn’t he see I was already committed to the scene?

My gaze dropped to E’s feet.

Decision made, he moved to my side so he was no longer in the way, and cast a begrudging gaze toward the computer. “All right.” His tone was flat. “What’s next?”

It was three more tormenting cycles with the vibrator. I’d climb the hill toward orgasm, and as I approached the edge, it was taken away, leaving me breathless and bereft.

And since I wasn’t experiencing release, E didn’t either. During one of my cooling off sessions, he tucked himself back in his underwear and pulled his pants on. Perhaps it was out of respect to me, or maybe it was the only kind of control he could exert in the scene. Yes, E submitted to Clay, but he did it with reservations.

He didn’t seem to be a switch, and if Clay took the leash off, I was certain I’d find out exactly how dominating E could be.

I moaned under my breath as he set the head of the vibrator against me. It felt good, but it’d stop the moment it started feeling great, and I’d rather not have it at all when I knew there’d be no release at the end.

“Maybe if you beg me,” Clay said, “I’ll change my mind.”

I clenched my teeth against the enjoyment humming through my body. “No. I don’t beg.”

He flat-out grinned, like it was the most exciting thing he’d ever heard. His smile was so huge, it seemed to fill the entire laptop screen.

“Oh, you don’t?” He was arrogant and powerfully sexy. “I’ll test that theory the next time we’re together. I’ll give you so many orgasms, I think you’ll be begging me to stop.”

“Fuck,” I whispered. It was more threat than promise, and so hot, Clay didn’t need to warn E that I was close. The vibrations ceased as the wand was turned off and pulled away, only seconds before I tipped over into ecstasy.

I panted as I clung to the edge, and E’s mood turned stormy. He strode to his bag, shoved the vibrator inside, then returned to me and began to undo my restraints. He wasn’t rough or cold with me—I wasn’t the source of his frustration. Whether Clay was ready for it or not, it didn’t matter. E’s actions announced the scene was over.

The denial had broken E much faster than it had me.

Since it hadn’t been physically intense, there wasn’t much aftercare. E rubbed away the indentations his rope had left on my skin, but his gaze barely met mine. His eyes stayed silent.

It’d been the tamest scene so far, and for the first time, it felt awkward when it was over. We dressed, Clay switched his call from E’s laptop to my phone, and once everything was put away, we shuffled up the stairs.

“Do I need to remind you,” Clay asked, “that I said no orgasms tonight?”

I squeezed the phone tightly and bit it out. “No, sir.”

While I would follow his order, he hadn’t said shit about me needing to like it. The evil part of me taunted he’d never know if I ran home and finished off the job myself. But I would know, and that was what Clay was banking on. Just like last night, the real test would come when there weren’t restraints.

A pleased look flashed through him and he nodded subtly at my promise. He adjusted his posture, straightening his shoulders. “Can you move the phone so I can speak to Mr. E?”

I did, moving to stand beside him and angling the phone so we could both view the screen.

Clay’s tone was genuine. “Thanks for tonight. I’m sorry for changing the agenda on you. That won’t happen again.”

E didn’t have a response, other than his chest lifted with a heavy breath. Whatever he wanted to say, he must have felt like he couldn’t right now. His expression was cryptic, almost as if he were struggling not to get lost in thought. But his deep breath must have been enough of an acknowledgment for Clay, because the matter seemed settled.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Yeah.” E’s tone was guarded. “Night.”

He strode to the front door, gripped the handle, and pulled it open before turning to finally, really look at me. My pulse went into overdrive. Shit, he was so handsome, and