Belle rose unsteadily to her feet with their help. The men she worked for were obviously nosy bastards, and she made a mental note to put a passcode on everything.
“Answer me. Do you understand what I’m asking of you?” Kell barked.
In that moment, she was thankful for her books. “You want me to undress and present my naked body for your pleasure, Sir.”
A look of deep satisfaction crossed his face. “That’s exactly what I want, and we’re going to sit back and watch you take off every stitch of clothing.”
They were all watching her now. The three of them stood side by side. Having already ditched his suit coat, Eric worked at the buttons of his shirt, but he’d been an athlete all his life. She already knew how gorgeous he was going to be. Tate had stripped to the waist in the last few minutes and now shocked her as he showed off his jaw-droppingly muscled chest. His slacks rode low on his hips, showing off the notches there. He might have an amazing brain, but he obviously knew his way around a weight room. And Kell…she’d accidentally caught sight of him changing shirts in his office once, so she knew how gorgeous he was. Hell, those three men were practically Greek gods. Annabelle had always felt too big—big butt, big boobs, big dreams. Her mouth was a bit too sassy, her skin a shade too dark. What did they see in her?
“Stop thinking, Belle,” Kellan commanded. “Focus on the orders you should obey and the Masters you should please.” His voice went low, the very sound of seduction. “You don’t have to worry about anything, love. We think you’re beautiful.”
“Yes,” Tate agreed. “Show us.”
“Let us see what we’ve been dreaming about for a year.” Eric finally slipped out of his shirt, leaving her gaping at his perfect form—wide shoulders, hard pectorals, tapered waist, ridged abdomen.
They weren’t stupid men. They must see her flaws. Shockingly, they didn’t seem to care. She forced her fears aside. She’d let them rule her for too long, and that hadn’t gotten her anywhere. The only path her anxiety had taken her down was a lonely one.
Belle reached around for the zipper of her dress, trying to grasp it between her fingers. Since she’d needed Kinley’s help to get dressed, it shouldn’t shock her that she couldn’t quite reach.
Kellan slipped behind her. “Allow me.”
She stood still, head bowed as he brushed her long hair over her shoulder, her breath catching as he dragged the zipper down. Cool air caressed her back. A wave of heat seared her when Kellan brushed his palms across her skin, parting the dress, letting it slide from her torso and fall to her waist.
Eric and Tate stared. Their gazes sizzled her flesh, flared her need again. But Kell took his time exploring, his fingertips tracing her spine and down to the small of her back.
He leaned in, his breath playing on her skin. “You’re so soft.”
A shudder went through her. Belle closed her eyes and drowned in sensation. She felt soft—and vulnerable, yes, but so strong and ready. She let her head drift back to his shoulder, the masculine scent of his aftershave washing over her.
His fingers drifted up her back to play between her shoulder blades, along the curve of her spine. Thank god she’d thought to wear pretty lingerie. Usually she didn’t notice or care what went on under her clothes as long as the undergarments were clean, but the lacy white bra she’d worn under her cocktail dress tonight had scalloped edges and demi-cups. Not that it seemed like she would be keeping it on for long.
She’d barely finished the thought before Kellan unhooked her bra with shocking efficiency. Belle caught the cups against her and shielded her breasts.
“Don’t,” Tate protested. “I want to see them, Belle.”
“He’ll be the easy one to deal with. I have no problem telling you that if you don’t drop your hands, you’ll find yourself over my knee,” Kellan said.
“I’d pay to see that, baby.” Eric shimmied out of his pants and socks, then stood before her in nothing but his boxers. His cock tented the cotton.
Belle tried not to gape—or let on that her mouth practically watered at the sight.
“Oh, you’ll see it. She owes me for the lies earlier,” Kellan explained. “But it’s up to her just how red she wants her ass to be when we take her to bed. What’s it going to be, Annabelle?”
She dropped the bra, baring her breasts to their gazes. A low ache simmered deep in her pussy, a new and wholly erotic feeling that made her so very aware that she was a woman.
“Everything else,” Kellan commanded as he strode across the lavish suite and gracefully tossed his big body into one of the chairs, then looked back at her expectantly.
A king on his throne, waiting for his lover to reveal her treasures to him. The image was so clear in her head that she couldn’t help but comply.
With shaking hands, she pushed the dress over her hips and let it slide to the floor. Her panties were the same gossamer white that had hugged her breasts—so much sexier than the underthings she normally wore. When she’d looked at herself while dressing, she’d liked the way the pale fabric made her skin gleam. She tried to let that memory bolster her confidence so she could stand before them in almost nothing.
“All of it, Belle.”
She nearly cursed Kell for pushing her out of her comfort zone so quickly, but she didn’t dare say it out loud. Besides, she already knew he wouldn’t let her hide behind anything.