Xander prayed what she felt in there would be enough.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”

Javier raised a brow at her. “London? Is that how you address us?”

“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed.

Repressing an indulgent smile, he took her elbow and led her to the St. Andrew’s Cross. Eventually, he’d be tougher and insist that she put herself where and how he wanted her. But this would be her first big show of submission. In an unfamiliar place with exotic new equipment . . . challenging her too quickly wouldn’t prove productive. He’d rather pick his battles.

As they reached the cross, he pulled one of her claw clips from the bag Javier had set at his feet, tacked the heavy strands of her hair to the back of her head, then backed her against the wooden X. Javier followed, grabbing one of her wrists and securing it in the attached cuff. Xander restrained the other, then they each knelt and attached an ankle at the bottom of the apparatus. Though subs were most often faced toward the cross, he wanted her to feel secure that her back was protected and hidden—for now.

She trembled, looking vulnerable and beautiful. Javier cut a glance his way, and his own feeling was mirrored in his brother’s eyes. They had to be careful with this treasure. She’d granted them so much trust—been their strength, the bridge to span the chasm between them. They needed to build her up now and free her from this worry that they would discard her or care less if they saw all of her.

London looked like she wanted to ask a million questions, but stayed silent. Xander smiled at her tenderly. “You’re doing great. We have some plans for you tonight. Remember to breathe. Don’t think too hard. Just feel and know we’re going to be here to catch you.”

Xander didn’t wait for a reply, but turned to find Javier ready and waiting, their first tool in his fist—a small, deadly sharp knife.

The second she saw the little blade, her eyes flared wide with panic. “Javier?”

“Relax, little one. Trust.”

She swallowed, and they stood frozen, breath held. Finally, she gave them a jerky nod.

“That’s not enough,” Xander murmured. “Tell us you consent.”

“I don’t know what you’re going to do,” she argued.

“That’s the point.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

A long moment later, she drew in a shaky breath. “I either trust you two or I don’t. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Precisely,” Javier answered.

“Then yes, Sir. Go ahead.”

London wasn’t without reservation, but she was giving them some trust. Tentative, yes, but still beautiful. It both pleased and made him feel powerful to know that she literally put her safety in their hands.

Javier stalked closer, staring at her like he wanted to ravish her from head to toe. He probably did, and Xander understood perfectly, edging to the side to allow his brother to get closer to London. Javier lifted one of the webs of the fishnet away from her skin with the tip of the blade and pressed the flat of the cold metal between her breasts. She drew in a shaky gasp. Her entire body tensed. He paused again, waiting to see if she would use her safe word. But she remained quiet.

Leaning in, Javier slanted his lips over hers, the kiss looking somewhere between hungry and reassuring. Slowly, he coaxed her to open for him bit by bit until he completely dominated her mouth. Holding her chin in his free hand, he tilted her face to suit him and dove in even deeper, making her take him with a kiss so thorough and intimate, Xander got damn hard just watching.

Finally, his brother swept the very tip of her tongue with his own, brushed his mouth across her yielding lips, then eased away. She whimpered. Above the leather bustier, her nipples were hard. Her skin had flushed a sweet pink.

Javier looked into her eyes and turned the knife on its side, pressing it ever so gently into the soft valley between her breasts. When she gasped into his last kiss, he yanked back on the blade and sliced his way through the fishnet.

Relief relaxed her expression, and Xander smiled. He sidled closer on her right and spread his palm over her leather-clad torso. Her zipper cut cold into his skin, but when he molded his body against hers and seized her lips, everything inside him turned molten. Like goddamn candy, so sweet and pure, pink and delightful. London yielded to him utterly, the starch in her muscles softening as he felt his way up her body, fingers gripping the edge of the snipped fishnet. He pulled the tear wider, away from one breast, then the other, and cupped them, taunting her nipples with his thumbs. She’d look so fucking sexy adorned with clamps.

Xander fished a jeweled pair from a nearby drawer, alternately sucking both nipples until he secured the little jeweled bits, their alligator steel teeth biting into her tender nubs. And still he couldn’t stand leaving her in merely a heightened state of sensitivity. Xander needed her attention, her pain, her desire. Her everything—especially her love. He tightened the clamps.

London’s head fell back with a cry. Her fingers curled into fists, as if she wanted to grab him and hold on. The restraints didn’t allow for that. But he had no doubt she was enjoying this little bite of pain.

“You look stunning, belleza,” he crooned in her ear. “Do you like knowing that Javier and I are both looking at every exposed inch of you, dying to watch you come for our pleasure? Taste you? Fuck you?”

“Yes . . .” she mewled, looking at him with slightly dazed, pleading eyes.

“But not yet. I’ve got more surprises for you.”

Javier neared her again, blade in hand. This time, she didn’t even flinch when he rested the sharp edge just above her nipple, then slowly scraped upward. He didn’t draw blood. In fact, he barely disturbed her skin at all. But the sight of her growing trust dazzled him. And it gave him hope. Maybe this plan would work.

The sound of the knife gently abrading her skin blended with her soft pants. He’d become teeth-grittingly hard. Xander ached to fuck her now, but her surrender couldn’t be rushed.

“Is your heart racing, little one?” Javier pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Does your skin tingle?”

She nodded, pale hair caressing her shoulders. “Yes, Sir.”

“Are you wet for us?”

London sent them the most inviting, beguiling stare. “I am, Sir.”

Javier didn’t even try to resist. He lowered his hand between her legs and rubbed gently. She moaned. Her lids drooped over increasingly glassy eyes. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she thrust her hips forward toward his touch.

Xander watched with a rapt stare as Javier thrust his fingers into her cunt, fucked her with them slowly once, twice, then withdrew, lifting his fingers high. They were drenched.

“Good girl.” Javier sucked his fingers clean. “Very sweet.”

A bolt of envy pierced Xander. Damn it, he wanted a sweet taste, too. Soon, he vowed. They still had so much to accomplish with London.

Javier twisted his wrist, and the blade that had scraped against her skin now tunneled under the spaghetti strap of her body suit. With a flick, it sliced in two, the little bits of material dangling. He shoved them away from the under-curve of her breast and kissed her pale skin.

Xander held his breath as he tightened his grip on her leather corset. A ball of anticipation sat in his abdomen and swirled energy all through his cock as he waited impatiently. Seconds later, Javier used the blade to cut the other strap. Xander tugged the fishnet completely away from her other breast.

London whimpered, looking sensual, dazed, under their spell. Goose bumps broke out all over her body. The moment dripped of her emotional rapture. She was swept up, eager—almost desperate—to keep giving to them. There was a whole lot more he was dying to take.

It was the perfect moment to grab the zipper of her corset and yank down.

The garment fell away from her body, hitting the concrete with a soft thunk. She blinked up at him, looking both hopelessly aroused and utterly lost. She wanted him to save her, and damn if that didn’t make him even harder.

Xander grabbed the frayed edges of the body stocking and ripped through every silken joining until he’d torn it clear down to her pussy. The remnants of the garment clung to her thighs. Her torso was beautifully bare of everything except his little jeweled clamps.

Still flushed and panting, her red lips parted with a hovering plea, he skimmed a finger down her body, beginning at the little pool between her collarbones and working down, circling her breasts slowly, letting the dangling clamps swing and pull. London sucked in a shocked breath, and he tugged on the little jewels before fingering his way down her abdomen, slowing up as he stroked down even more. She held her breath. Every inch he descended, she sucked in a bit more until her sigh quivered. Then he slid his hand over her pussy, two fingers swirling over her clit. She cried out his name.

So primed, so perfect. So damn ready. But as much as he wanted to carry her to the bed and fuck her blind, he and Javier had a plan. The short-term orgasm wasn’t as important as the long-term trust they were building. But damn it was getting hard to remember that.

Xander stepped away, eliciting a groan of protest from London. He shushed it with a raised brow, then reached for the bag of tricks they’d brought. The first thing he grabbed was the little plastic bag filled with white, fluffy material. It would look like a long, flat strip of simple cotton to her. He grinned. Looks could be deceiving.

He extracted it from the little bag and began to spread it thinly until it looked like the whitest, most delicate cotton candy. Questions ran rampant all over her face, but Xander didn’t answer. He simply bent to place a soft kiss on the upper swell of her breast, then affixed a bit of the cotton to her skin, trailing it around her beaded nipple, then down her abdomen, ending just above her mons. He repeated the exercise with her other breast until the thin layer of stretched cotton made a little heart on her body. Javier grinned and knelt to adjust the cotton, centering it right over her pussy. And as long as he was down there, it was no surprise that his brother tongued her slick folds and licked her little candy clit. London’s groan zipped thrill through him.

Next test now. Bigger than the last one. Xander’s breath shuddered as he dragged it in.

He cupped London’s cheek. “How do you feel, belleza?”

Her long, sharp gasp told him most of what he needed to know, especially since he could hear his brother making a noisy feast of her pussy below. “C-close, Sir.”

“Hold your orgasm, sub. No coming.” He infused his voice with command.

London gave a little mewl of protest, but she still managed to nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“Javi . . .” he said in warning to his brother, who pulled away from her cunt with a noisy, obviously annoyed sigh. Too bad. Establishing trust was priority one.

Xander turned his full focus back on London. “Do you trust us?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The words came without hesitation, and he hoped that she really meant them.

“Remember that.”

At her nod, he bent and retrieved the item he needed to really light up this moment. He held it up in front of her face. “What is this?”

Her eyes widened, turning round and wary. “A l-lighter.”

“Exactly.”

Xander flicked the little igniter with his thumb. A little yellow flame flickered to life between them. He lowered it to the edge of the cotton, hovering near her pussy.

“Do you want to use your safe word?” Javier’s stare drilled into her. “We would never damage you, little one, but we understand we’re asking a lot.”

“This won’t hurt?” Her voice shook, and Xander understood. She’d already been through a great deal of trauma. They hadn’t been together long enough for him to really understand her limits. She hadn’t yet learned to completely give herself over to him and his brother.

But he hoped this would go a long way.

“Just the good kind,” he promised.

“I must be crazy,” she muttered to herself, then squeezed her eyes shut. “But I trust you.”

Excitement roared to violent life inside him with all the subtlety of a volcano. Power and pride mixed, and suddenly all patience flew out the window.

As he reached out to light the cotton, London sputtered in fear, and her heart pounded in a rapid beat visible at the base of her neck. Her entire body trembled, but she still didn’t use her safe word.

God, if he didn’t fuck her soon, he was going to explode.

With one finger, he lifted her chin, ensuring her brows remained away from the open blaze, then he put the flame to the cotton just above her swollen, slick folds. The thin strips caught fire, flaming quick and bright—a flash of fury . . . then gone. Xander knew the moment the heat registered, and London realized this merely warmed her skin and electrified her senses, rather than singed or charred. She pushed her hips out, trying to meet the sensation. Yes, a burst of heat might put her over the edge, but it wasn’t coming. She wasn’t coming, unless he or Javier gave her the sensation with their hands or cocks.