Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(90)

He rose to fully engulf her in the embrace, giving her the kind of hug back that would make any woman feel safe, cherished and strong, all at once.

“Do not grope his ass, or I’ll break your fingers,” Dana said, her voice strained yet containing a trace of her normal sauciness.

Rachel smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to Dana’s temple. “I love you,” she said, and meant it.

But when she looked up, she saw Jon’s eyes upon her, and knew she owed him something more. She wasn’t sure how to show him, give it to him, but she’d do her best not to falter again tonight.



He was another man who knew how to hold a woman in all the right ways. When she returned to him, her Master folded his arms around her hips, holding her close to the side of his chair. As he nuzzled the tip of one breast, she gripped his shoulder for support. He ran his tongue around the clamped area and then reached around her to play with the plug, twisting and pulling it partway out before seating it deep once more.

At length he drew back, and took her hand from his shoulder to kiss it, caress her fingers. “Return to your service pose at the door, Rachel,” he instructed.

Dana, in her spread and penetrated pose, was obviously reaching peak levels again, her body shuddering with her effort not to work the dildo or arch into the hold of the plug and clamps. Peter reached a long arm over the table to stroke her flank. “Doing all right there, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir,” Dana said, her voice a little shaky, too, but with a humorous desperation to it. “My Master’s job is to take care of me, too. Any time he’s ready. Just saying.”

The men chuckled, and Matt shook his head. “She’s about ready for that ring gag, Peter.”

Rachel bit back a smile. Dana did like to push boundaries. That was her and Peter’s thing.

She moved to the doorway as Jon had ordered and knelt, spreading her knees and lifting her arms to clasp her hands behind her head, the pose Dana had assumed while Rachel kissed her. Rachel straightened her back, her breasts tilted up, as the position required, and swept her gaze downward. Jon knew just staying in the position could arouse her, and since she was already well on her way there, she could relate to Dana’s desperation, though Rachel wasn’t quite as worked up as the other woman. Yet. Ben’s next words helped close the gap.

He was shuffling the deck of cards that Lucas had turned over to him. “So here are the rules,” he said. “Each winning hand can dictate what he wants our slaves to do. They have to keep doing it, until someone different wins the next hand. Then that winner can change it up, or have the women keep doing what they’ve been ordered to do. It’s up to the man in question.”

The possibilities could overload the brain. She was glad she was kneeling, since she was sure her knees would have given out from the thought. Her gaze flicked to Dana, and she saw a ripple of reaction go through the other woman as Dana’s head turned in her direction. Though Dana couldn’t see her, the movement equated to a meeting of gazes, a holy hell solidarity they could cling to as they rode this roller coaster.

This would be a little different than each man touching her as she brought him a drink. But she remembered Peter’s words. Jon knew her like no other. He knew what she could handle, what would push her out of her comfort zone, but never beyond the grasp of his hand, his hold on her heart. She trusted him. And she trusted the men he loved and trusted.

As she watched them surreptitiously from under her lashes, Ben dealt out the cards with smooth twists of his wrist. “It’s much easier when the cards can slide across the glass,” he commented. “But the mat works better than I expected.”

“Too bad it doesn’t help you deal better cards,” Peter grunted, tossing a couple back at him. “I’ll take two.”

Matt swapped out one and took a swallow of his whiskey. Lucas studied his cards and also took two from Ben. Jon threw a peanut at Peter as Dana’s husband leaned out in an exaggerated motion, as if wanting to look at his cards.

“No need to look at them,” Ben advised. “As I said, you all suck at this, but Jon’s the worst. He has no poker face whatsoever. It’s that crunchy granola vegetarian Zen stuff. Makes him too honest. Eat meat,” he directed toward her Master. “Puts you closer to the devil.”

Lucas chuckled. “You might be good at this Ben, but Matt has you beat on poker face.”

“Matt has Mount Rushmore beat on poker face,” Ben said and also put down two cards. “Dealer takes two. But Cass can kick all our asses. Though if any woman in this room tells her that, there will be hell to pay.”

“I don’t mind hanging with the devil,” Dana said, her voice still breathy even as she tossed out the comment. “Might be able to show him the light.”

“With your cute ass, I don’t doubt it. But say another word and Peter will get that ring gag. Even if you make the lovely pouty face.”

Despite the threat, it was clear Ben had a soft spot for the blind woman. Putting his cards face down as the others deliberated, he left the table to go to the sidebar. He returned with a chocolate and leaned over the table. Gaze sweeping over Dana’s spread body, he grunted. “Damn girl. You look entirely too fuckable. Open up.”

When he put the chocolate close to Dana’s lips, his proximity and the smell of the candy had her lips parting even as the command came to do it. He rubbed it over her lips, letting the heat of her body melt it so he could spread it there. “Now put out that clever tongue of yours.”