Free FightingforControl by Ari Thatcher

when he called. Neither Brad nor
Marc wanted to force her to do anything. They offered to control her
pleasure—dominate, not domineer. But there was so much more involved in
maintaining a relationship. She wasn’t good at the maintaining part. “It’s a
nice dream.”
    He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers with a light
touch. “Why dream? You’re not dead. You have choices. Opportunities. We’re
offering you ourselves. That’s reality, not a dream.”
    “ We. There’s a red flag right there. If I choose one
of you and not the other, what does that do to our working together? You can’t
tell me it won’t be awkward.”
    “We’re not suggesting you choose one. Choose us both. Choose
to experience more than you’ve allowed yourself.”
    She shook her head. “I can’t see how it can work.”
    “Just because it’s new. Why not let it happen without
forcing it to fit some preconceived notion?” He stood and pulled her to her
feet. Drawing her close, he stroked his hands down her back, looking at her
with trembling lips. His fingers sent velvety waves across her skin. “God, when
you are so close I want to kiss you, rip off your clothes and explore every
inch of you.”
    The desperate need to know his body, taste the flesh hidden
by his clothing, overwhelmed her. Lori didn’t wait to see what he’d do. Rising
on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his, opening her lips and thrusting her
tongue deep into the welcoming warmth. The lightning bolt that shot through her
rocked her to the core. Her knees wobbled. She grasped his face in both hands,
and plunged deeper, moaning at the cravings awakening inside her.
    His mouth was firm against hers, his tongue meeting hers
thrust for thrust. His sharp panting breaths rang loudly in the quiet. Lori
clutched at his tie, tugging it free and reaching for the buttons behind.
Suddenly, Brad grabbed her wrists and pulled away. “Wait. Not like this.”
    She whimpered. “Yes, like this. Hot, naked sex on the dining
room table. Now!” Reaching for the zipper of her skirt, she looked up at him
and tried not to pout. “Please?”
    He tossed his tie onto a chair. “We’re going to do this my
way.”

Chapter Seven
     
    Brad paused in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and
watched Lori cross her arms and exhale in a huff. Her eyes burned into his, her
voice tight. “Why does this always have to be a game played by your rules? Why
can’t we just have sex?”
    He put his hands on his hips but didn’t step closer. “It’s
not a game. Far from it. And as I recall, you weren’t happy with ‘just sex’.
That’s why you were willing to give us a chance to show you another way to
enjoy each other.”
    “But all the flogging and dressing appropriately and all
that, it takes so long. What if all we want is a quickie?”
    Letting out a long, slow breath, he reminded himself they’d
only worked with Lori a few times. Learning the lifestyle was a long process.
She was going to try his patience many times over the course of her lessons,
assuming she allowed them to continue. Combing his fingers through his hair, he
mentally backed up a few steps as he closed the short distance between them.
    “I wasn’t planning on making you change your clothes, nor
was I going to run home and grab a flogger or cuffs. I’m assuming you don’t
have either of those on hand?”
    She flushed and looked away. “No.”
    Picking up his tie, he draped it around the back of her
neck, grabbed each end and pulled her until their noses almost touched. “Well,
then, we might have to make do with what we have on hand. Ties make wonderful
bonds, as do stockings, scarves…”
    Brad tilted his head and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the
wine on her breath that escaped between her parted lips. His tongue sought her
lips and he felt them tremble as he traced the fullness there. He pressed his
mouth to hers, wrapped his arms around her, slowly enjoying the feel of her
against him. She was so soft,