Chains and Canes (12 page)

Remy was still dangerous, because she felt herself bonding with him in enticing ways. She would keep her heart and her desires separate if spending time with Remy meant opening Daniel to his true self. She’d never known what that was, and neither had he.

She’d expected him to resist, or at best, to sink slowly onto the floor. His challenging gaze, locked on Remy’s magnetic Caribbean-blue eyes, made her heartsick.

You need this, baby.

A sarcastic twist of his closely held lips was the only hint of what he’d do. He dropped. Not slowly. Not gracefully. An invisible hand pressed his shoulders and buckled his knees.

Remy rose with the grace and deliberation Daniel had lacked—and slapped him full on the face.

The crack of male flash against flesh made Naya gasp. Daniel’s eyes flared open. He worked his jaw side to side. “What the
fuck
?”

“Hands behind your back,” Remy growled. “And don’t you
ever
glare at me that way again, boy. When you’re going to submit to me, you do it. No halfway.”

“Submit…” Daniel said it in a daze, as if the word came from Outer Mongolia.

A slap to the other cheek.

“Yes, Daniel. Submit.”

“I won’t take lashings. No pain.”

Naya inhaled deeply. He hadn’t protested submission, only his limits. She kept her eyes on Remy.
Get this right. For him. Please.

Remy smiled, almost kindly, although his voice held just as much menacing authority as ever. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, boy. You backtalk again and we’re done.”

Naya shuddered. She couldn’t read the future, but
Dios
did she wish for that impossible talent. She wanted Daniel cared for. She wanted him satisfied. Was this how he felt when giving her into the hands of a Domina? Or to Remy? How did he stand it? Her respect for the man she loved grew hot and heavy in her chest. She would do anything to give him what he’d given her with so much of his generous heart.

Remy didn’t wait for Daniel to speak, which was probably best for all of them. His words wouldn’t do them any good, if his mind was still at war with itself.

Crossing behind Naya, Remy pushed her hair forward over her shoulders. “Now lemme look at what you’ve been hiding from me,” he said, his voice rough and low.

She closed her eyes in pure pleasure at his sharp intake of breath. This was part of it too—the part she hadn’t realized she missed. A Domina could give her a painful release. Daniel could give her powerful orgasms. The combination left her calm and sated.

But this… She missed the feeling of giving back, of fulfilling a Dominant’s needs, even when what she gave was nothing more than the evidence of how perfectly she’d been fulfilled.

He knelt behind her. “Ah,
chère
…”

His heat radiated against the still-tender skin of her back. As in the studio room, his touch was soft. Almost worshipful. He placed open-mouthed kisses where she knew the bruises were most defined and the most vibrant.

“We made you beautiful,” he whispered.

We. We. We.

“Thank you, Sir.”

After one more kiss, he settled his teeth against her nape. And bit. This was no nip. He bit her without mercy until she cried out and fisted her hands, refusing to cede. Remy pushed her onto all fours and bowed his torso over hers. His hands lay flat on either side of hers. The tendons of his forearms were coiled as tightly as metal wire. He bit harder, thrust his pelvis against her ass, groaned against her skin.

He was an animal, mounting her.

Her body shook and loosened as she became the animal he wanted her to be. The way she arched into his hold was primal. Her
moan
was primal.

He released her and licked her shrieking skin. “Good girl.” He was just as breathless. “Stay here now. You can watch Daniel and me, but hold this pretty pose. I’ll look at our marks when I want to.”

She could only nod. That bite had dropped her so quickly. No one had ever bitten her on the nape. No one had ever shot a pure rush of ownership straight into her psyche. She was drunk on the vitality of her own submission, amazed at the strength of it. Her eyelids were so heavy. She focused on the insane pulses radiating off Daniel where he knelt mere inches away, but even he felt distant.

Remy stood and crossed to his duffel, which he rifled through for what seemed like hours. Anticipation mingled with the best sort of fear. He returned with a collar, a leash and a nasty-looking wooden paddle—maybe eighteen inches long and a quarter inch thick. He laid collar and leash in front of Daniel and the paddle in front of Naya.

He framed Daniel’s face with both hands. “I know the difference between pain and submission, boy. Do you understand me?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then we have a long way to go. That’s okay. I’m as patient as a saint.” That mean, seductive grin was back in force. “Now you need to get naked too,
non
? Stay where you are. I want to see you fight your way out of that fancy suit from there on the floor.”

Daniel lowered his eyes. Naya couldn’t tell if it was submission or an attempt to hide the defiance that would earn him another hard slap. He shrugged out of his coat, loosened his tie and tossed his shirt aside. The rest was less dignified. He turned on his ass and pushed out of his trousers and briefs, wiggling to work them down his legs. He made a huffing sound when he reached his dress shoes, still in place.

“Not such a big powerful businessman now,” Remy said with a taunting chuckle. “Back on your knees. Hands in place. Until I tell you otherwise, this is how you present yourself to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

Naya shivered again, especially when she caught sight of Daniel’s hard prick. It lifted from his trimmed thatch of dark blond hair and angled toward his navel. As with all things in their lives, they were sharing this moment. Being owned. It was more satisfying than taking painful, magical strokes by herself, which now sounded like a very lonely prospect.

Remy snatched up the collar. A few deft moves later, Daniel wore a black leather band around his neck. Holy hell did that look good. His chest was lifted, so proud and strong. His thick muscular thighs were steady. His eyes focused on some point in the middle distance.

Yes,
Naya thought.
He looks like I feel.

Remy attached the leash. After wrapping the leather around his wrist with three quick loops, he undid his belt and fly. The jangle of the belt buckle released a rush of wetness between her thighs—and they’d barely started. She looked at the paddle waiting in front of her. A silent threat. A silent promise.

Deftly, even with the leash in hand, Remy pulled his rock-hard cock out from his briefs. He stroked it a few times. He likely did it for his own pleasure, but Naya licked her lips. She wanted to taste.

It wasn’t her turn.

To her knowledge, Daniel had never actually been with a man. He would’ve had to lie to her for that to be the case, and Daniel never lied to her. He’d revealed his fantasies, in the dark where stories and secrets made them go to pieces in each other’s arms.

This…this was incredible.

Remy used the leash and the purposeful nudge of his hips to bring the head of his cock within an inch of Daniel’s mouth.

“Funny,” he said. “I always thought Naya would go down on me first. Open up, boy. I’m gonna fuck your face.”

From where she waited on hands and knees, Naya couldn’t help her low groan.

“Oh, yeah. You’ll be making me
and
your greedy girl happy.” Remy yanked hard on the leash. “Be good now. Suck your Sir.”

Daniel opened his lips. His icy gaze lifted upward, like a supplicant at worship. Just like with those slaps, Remy gave no warning. He
thrust
. Daniel’s body convulsed around his gag reflex. He recovered rapidly, eyes staring up again. Remy nodded his approval, tightened his hold on the leash and used it to fill Daniel’s mouth with cock.

They were men. Fierce, impatient men. The time between Remy’s initial violation and aggressive fucking couldn’t have been more than a minute. Daniel’s eyes rolled back. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. Although he relaxed into the calm of being dominated, his naked body tightened against the force of each drive. His abs clenched. The striations on his shoulder muscles danced in erratic pulses as he fisted his hands at his low back.

With the leash still coiled around his wrist, Remy grabbed Daniel’s skull and thrust his hips. Naya watched in fascination as Remy dropped his head back, chin toward the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and sweat gathered across each chiseled surface of his body. His groan was long and low, without end or beginning, until Naya thought he might lose it completely.

Come in his mouth,
she begged in her fevered mind.

But that would be almost disappointing. He wouldn’t be the Dom they hoped he was. Doms kept control. Only the hinting tease that Remy might slip—that his submissive was too sexy to resist—was part of Naya’s arousal. The power wasn’t one-sided. It was a glorious battle. If played right, everyone won.

Daniel’s hair was too short to grip. Instead, Remy dropped the leash and grabbed the collar with both hands. He pulled free and yanked Daniel’s face up. “More, boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Remy’s eyes slid closed. A second. Maybe two. It was enough to reveal how Daniel’s quick reply had affected him. “Not now. Maybe not even tonight. See, with two submissives waiting for my attention, boredom ain’t no issue.”

“Are you bored with my mouth, Sir?”

Daniel’s hint of challenge was back. His expression was fixed somewhere between sarcasm and disappointment. Maybe the former was to help conceal the latter.

Remy shrugged. “Ain’t your job to know what bores me. Your job is to wait for me to use you. When I want. How I want.”

She could’ve watched their fierce interplay for hours, but Naya was getting impatient.
My turn. My turn.

“Get over here, boy,” Remy said, snatching up the paddle. “Sit cross-legged in front of this pretty sweeting. Closer. Pretend I could force her head down on your dick. That close.”

Naya remained on all fours. If she looked straight ahead, she found Daniel’s eyes. His mouth was red and slick. His expression suggested his will was still at home, but he was a changed man. She’d never seen him so eager. Four years together, and this was a lover she’d never met.

If she looked down, she saw the physical evidence of his arousal. His prick angled straight toward her mouth. She wanted Remy to force her, as he’d forced himself on Daniel.

“Pull down your jeans, Naya. Just your ass showing.”

With numb fingers, she did as she was told—and was rewarded again with one of Remy’s satisfied inhales. He laid the cold wooden paddle flat against her cheeks.

“You haven’t healed yet,” he said, almost wistful. “Still so tender,
oui
?”

“
Si
, Sir.”

“
Trés bon.
”

The steel in his voice made her shudder. Tears already gathered in her eyes. Yes, she would love this in a few minutes, after the initial shock and anguish of pain. She would
love
it. She would fly. The fear of what it took to get there was almost overwhelming. She’d never been beaten again so soon after a session.

“Your job, Daniel, is to brace her shoulders. I don’t want her face-planting on this nice carpet. I want her body strong enough to take each blow.”

Daniel’s gaze lifted to a place over her shoulder, where Remy must’ve waited for acquiescence. “Safe word still.” It wasn’t a question.

Remy offered his reassurance anyway. “Safe word still.”

Daniel cupped broad palms around her shoulders. His triceps popped in preparation, as if he’d need to keep a wall from toppling.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Her words were a pale whisper.

“Granted.”

“I’m scared.”

A moment’s pause. “And excited?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then that’s that.”

Daniel kissed her forehead. “Bye-bye, angel.”

“Bye-bye.”

The first smack made her body jump out of her skin. She screeched. Daniel took the momentum into his hands, but he couldn’t absorb the pain. That was Naya’s burden, her inexplicable joy. More.
More.
She took everything Remy gave. Her brain slipped away. Words garbled in her head. All she knew was that Remy was grunting with each strike, and Daniel was grunting with the force of holding her in place.

I’m doing that. I’m making them sweat and groan like cavemen.

Nothing hurt anymore. Only when Remy changed the angle or pace did he momentarily shock her back to feeling, but otherwise…bliss.

She was moaning and babbling, crying and laughing.

Mad.

Flying.

Until she was so high that she couldn’t even find the bright, encouraging beacon of Daniel’s gaze.

“Red.”

Did I say that?

Lots of things had rattled off her tongue. Maybe she’d called a halt. No, that didn’t make sense. She was pleasing Remy. She was pleasing her Sir.

“I said
red
, goddamn it.”

Daniel?

The rhythm of sweet release stopped. Daniel eased her sideways until she lay on the carpet. Immediately she curled into herself, realizing for the first time that she was bawling. Daniel curved over her briefly, petting, kissing, then stood.

You’re not supposed to stand,
her melted mind protested. Then, more singsong:
You’re gonna get in trouble. Gonna get in trouble.

But oh, she liked the blanket he wrapped around her. She snuggled into that warmth and shivered and cried and danced in high, high clouds.

Chapter Twelve

For fuck’s sake, Remy hated that goddamn word.

He gripped the implacable handle of the paddle until the wood dug into his knuckles. A fast trio of breaths took him from panting to half calm. Not completely calm, because there was no such thing in that situation.