Echo of Redemption (21 page)

“Are you okay?” Master asks.

I realize my hands are trembling. “Yes, Master.”

Between my answer and their action, there is no delay. They pinch and pierce the second line.
Oh God
.
I close my eyes as pain spreads between the two needles, a small dance of fire under my skin. I feel a third pinch and prick of pain. I open my eyes to watch as the metal slides between my skin layers, raising my flesh. Though I can only focus on one of the needles at a time and they are both piercing together, the needle I do watch seems to move in slow motion. I see the tip nearing the surface just before it pokes through the skin.
Pop!
I gasp, though the discomfort seems more tingling verging on numbness as I float above the soft comfort of pain.
This
.
This is what I’ve missed.

“Continue?” Lord Fyre asks.

I am not certain whether he is asking Garrett or me. It seems unusual that he would ask, I have a safe word after all, but just in case Master would refuse, I answer, “Please, Lord Fyre. Don’t. Stop.”

Our gazes collide and I see such pride reflected back at me, my heart swells. Lord Fyre starts at the center of the spiral drawn on my stomach and works the design from a tight inner circle, widening outward. Master stands, arms crossed, not participating but witnessing.

The pain of the piercings ebb and flow and I float on the current, enjoying the rush. I float, forever suspended between the two men I love.

How much time passes? Minutes? Hours? I do not know as needle after needle slides under my skin to create the spiral. I know I am crying when a mirror is carried forward to show me the result. “It’s beautiful.”

I am immediately frustrated because I want to hug them both but I cannot move.
Hug me. Hug me. Hug me!
They don’t, they walk away, leaving me bound, pierced, and alone with my thoughts.

“Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.”

Helen Keller

Thomas

We leave Kitten under the close supervision of a room monitor, who will watch her via camera until we return. In an emergency he is seconds away. It is Lewd Larry’s policy to have each room in The Attic under constant surveillance by both a team member and with an audio-visual recording.

As we leave the room, I don’t mention it to Garrett, but I plan to check up on him by watching the last month’s worth of his logged sessions. There are definitely some perks to being head of security, and I’m worried about him. He isn’t playing with Kitten, he isn’t playing with me, so it makes me wonder if he has lost his edge…or if there is something else going on.
Someone
.
I don’t want to consider that but I know Garrett, he’s a monogamous kind of guy, except on the rare occasion he completely loses it. High stress affects people in different ways. I get that. But if he’s being a slut, I want to know before Kitten. I’m not sure she would understand that particular personality glitch.

It may be more mundane than that and I may be concerned needlessly. He’s often distracted by the sheer amount of work that goes into keeping Lewd Larry’s a well-oiled machine, and he’s on occasion forgotten Kitten, regrettable but also the flipside of his personality. The man is a workaholic. From what I know about his father the same could be said about him. I don’t know if it’s genetic or learned, but it’s definitely a family trait.

He’s not happy that I’m dragging him back to his office for a chat, and his irritation bristles off him. “If you trust me to take care of her while you’re away, the least you could do is support the decisions I’ve made in your absence instead of overriding my authority.”

I don’t offer comment even after we are behind closed doors.

“The doctor was fairly adamant that she not participate in any form of bondage.” His back to me, he runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to face me I can tell he is spoiling for a fight. “And please, do not encourage this damn natural birth quackery. Jackie is a bad enough influence.”

I sit down in one of two wing chairs, waiting for him to finish venting.

“You need to be home. She’s carrying
your
sons. Do you have anything to say?”

“Nothing.” I spread my hands out in front of me.

“I can assume you haven’t returned? Your brother still needs you? So tonight whisk in and give Kitten all the answers she wants to hear and when you leave, I’m again the bad guy. What comes next? Another trip out of the country?”

He is so enraged there is nothing I can say that will calm him nor can I promise him I won’t be called away. Anything I say at this point would only inflame him more. Silence seems the best answer.

He paces. “I can’t believe you aren’t going to say anything.”

Standing, I block his path and step into him, bumping our chests together. The kiss begins gently but then becomes rougher as I take what I want from his mouth and he takes what he wants from mine. Both of us struggle for dominance.

It is a long moment before he relaxes against me completely. He says, “Stay.”

“I can’t,” I say, though I know the safest thing for me to do would be to return to my regular routine. If Glorianna is having me watched, which I haven’t been able to determine, she would immediately notice I am not following a normal routine. I have to try to hide my brother in plain sight. Only as a very last resort will I turn him over, and then only because I do trust her word.

Taking my frustration out on Garrett, I kiss him again, rougher still, ripping apart the closure of his silk shirt. Buttons fall to the floor and the
click, click
of their bounce mocks the ruination of his Stefano Ricci handmade original. He shrugs out of the designer weave and lets it fall to the floor while he lifts my plain black t-shirt over my head.

Garrett jerks my belt off and slings it over the back of his neck so that the ends dangle over his shoulders. He unbuttons and unzips my pants, sinking to his knees and sucking my cock into his mouth before he even has my pants pulled over my hips.
God
.
He bites my glans, the sharp jolt of pain pure pleasure.

“Easy, tiger.” I knee him in the chest, pushing him back and follow the motion, pinning him. I slap his face repeatedly. “You want it rough. Is that right?”

“Yes,” he grits out between clinched teeth.

“You want to hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe I’ll let you…after I take what I want from your hide.” I grab the ends of the belt, twisting then together before jerking his neck forward. I kiss him hard, tightening the leather to the point he can’t breathe. He doesn’t struggle, he pushes into the kiss. When I push him away, he is left gasping for air. His face is deep red. I smack his cheek. “You like that too much.”

“Yes,” he grunts.

I slide the belt off his neck and double it in my palm, using the folded leather to smack his chest, his arms, and his abdomen. He yelps but the force I’m using is nowhere close to what I know he can take.

“Have you gotten soft on me?”

“No, Sir.”

I strike him repeatedly with the belt, making his chest glow a rosy shade of pink before straddling his face. “Suck me off. Fast.”

He doesn’t disappoint me. His face darkens as I force my cock deeper. He gags when I push as deep as I can go. I like the sound of him gagging around my penis. I withdraw and thrust deep just to hear the sound.

I feel his arms moving and guess he is undoing his pants. I pull out of his mouth. “Did I say you could do that?”

He grins guiltily.

“You want to touch your own dick?”

Catching his gaze, holding it, I watch his face, liking the lust I see as he grabs my hips and pulls me back into position over his face. I fill his mouth and slap the leather belt down over his bared side as he does so. He moans in pain, then laughs. I push deeper and he gags.

“God damn I’ve missed you, Garrett.”

I pump his mouth, while I’m lashing him with the belt. He is going to be welted and bruised when we’re finished.

I pull out, wanting to see my jism arc and spurt over his face.

While I am put slightly off balance by my ejaculation, Garrett takes the advantage by pushing me back. I’m gasping for breath when he pins me with his body. I could fight him, roll him off, and reestablish control, but I don’t want to. He wipes my cum off his cheek and laughs. He moves to straddle my face, asking me, “Turnabout is fair play, eh?”

I smile and open my mouth, but he doesn’t thrust in fast and deep as I’d expect.

He rubs his glans over my lips. “Lick it.”

I lick the tip of his cock, rimming his piss hole. I hold his gaze, taking my tongue in a slow slide down around his cut head. With the tip of his dick wet with my saliva, he holds his shaft in his hand and circles my mouth, spreading my spit around my lips like he is applying lipstick.

He leans back his head and sighs.

I give a fast flickering lick on the ridge that runs along the backside and am rewarded with a moan, but soft lick and tease tickles isn’t what he needs and we both know it.

Using the folded length of belt, I slap his hard shaft. Hard, harder, until I get the “Holy fuck,” response I’m after. He coughs, grunts, laughs, and then begs, “Again.”

I slap him hard enough to make him yelp, then swallow his shaft, taking him deep.

Holding him tight and deep, not gagging, I don’t release him. I keep him tightly sucked where I want him, not giving him any wriggle room, and start wailing on his backside with the belt.

With his dick trapped in a cage of teeth and tongue and muscle, he is helpless against the belting I give his ass and thighs.

“Oh! Ahh. Oh, fuck.”

I slap him harder.

“Holy fuck.”

He moans and his fingers twine into my hair, pulling tight. I bite, a teasing bite, and his grip tightens. I run my hands down the leather warmed flesh of his ass and thighs. I flick his balls, making him jerk and cry out.

“Fyre.” He growls my name softly.

Grabbing his thighs, I pull him deeper into my mouth and throat. Setting up a rhythm, I loosen my mouth enough to take him in and out smoothly, quickly. I feel the tension building in his thighs, he’s close to coming when I pull away and his moan is one of disappointment. It is my turn to laugh. “You didn’t think I’d let you come that easily.”

I force him back and we wrestle for dominance. This is it. One of us has to yield and he’s in just enough of a mood to not want to. I’m ornery enough to want to make him really fight for the prize, counting on one hand how many times I’ve allowed him to ass fuck me.

I don’t expect the solid punch to my jaw.

He rolls me over, looping the belt around my neck and jerking my head back with it. He growls, then grunts with the exertion it takes to hold me. I never said I was going to make it an easy win. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Lift your ass.”

He pulls the belt tighter. I could get free, but I don’t want to, not this time. I’m not sure what’s going on in Garrett’s head, but tonight he needs to be top dog and I’m man enough to let him. I lift my ass, taking the full thrust of him. He jerks on me like a jackrabbit in rut. He tries to slow the pace, to force down his own need, his own desires, but I don’t let him, knowing he’s close, very close. I push back against him, squeezing his dick with my anal muscles.

“Holy fucking God, Fyre. Holy fuck.”

I collapse onto my chest, him falling against my back. We both lay there breathing hard, and I am surprised when he rolls off to lay beside me. I wrap around him, holding him with both arms and legs. Continuing our interrupted conversation, I whisper against his ear, “I wish I could stay tonight. And by the way, they will be
o
ur sons
.”

Still out of breath, he chuckles and I feel like we are going to be all right.

“I think we will disagree much on the raising of boys, Thomas. I won’t allow them to participate in organized sports.”

I hold him tight. “Oh, there will be sports. Football, baseball, soccer, basketball, archery, ninjutsu—”

“Only if you agree to ballet and music lessons, piano and violin.”

I cuff his head. “Admit it’s going to be interesting.”

I loosen my hold so that I can roll up on an elbow and look down on him. It’s been a long time since I’ve just looked at him. I run my hand over the flat plane of his stomach and note just how pale his skin is to mine. When our gazes touch, he looks concerned. He says, “You might as well say what’s on your mind. I promise I’m calmer now.”

“Why are you neglecting her?”

The defensive shield he throws between us is a thick, touchable tension. Perhaps I should have sugarcoated it.

“Have you thought I’m doing the work of three men here?”

“You always do the work of three men,” I argue.

“Well, now I’m doing even more, covering your shifts and George’s.”

I sit up, suddenly angry that he is really going to blame work. “Hire more people.”

He doesn’t sit up. He rolls onto his side, putting his back to me. “I don’t want to hurt the babies.”

“What?”

“We’re not playing, we’re not having sex. She may have mentioned that.”

I would not betray her if she had confided such to me. “It is fairly obvious your relationship is strained.”

“If she would miscarry on my watch, the ménage would be destroyed. Neither of you could trust me again because both of you would look at me like I’d done it on purpose.”

His admission leaves me stunned. “Do you want her to miscarry?”

He stands and starts pulling on clothes. “Of course not! I just want to play—
hard
, harder than I’ve ever wanted to play—and I can’t do that with her, not now, and it leaves me wondering why I’m so filled with this need if not because I secretly long for the worst to happen.”

Standing, I catch him mid-pace, holding his shoulders, and make him meet my gaze. I am met with a guilty look and feel he is more distressed that she carries my children in her womb than he would ever let on. “I know you don’t want any harm to come to her or the babies. So what is this really about?”