Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago) (20 page)

“Of course you are.” He looked at Diachi expectantly. “Aw, come on. What was it you once told
me? That one of the founding tenants of BDSM is that a Dom puts his subs needs first, then indulges his own pleasure?”

“
Yeah?” Then it was like a light bulb went on in his head. “He
needs
me to strip away his control. He needs me to force him to submit. It’s not just enough for him to see I desire him.”

Bryan nodded slowly.
“Exactly. He's so tough on the outside, his walls are too high for sweet talking or rationalizing to work. You're going to have to push —
to force the issue
.” He wrapped his arm around Diachi and tipped his head to speak directly into his ear. “He needs you to be his Dom.” Then he pulled back. “So instead of arguing with me, why aren't you on the road? The Edens is a mess and you're going to be pushing to get there on time.”

The
desire to do that was riding Diachi hard, but first he had to make sure Bryan could handle his absence after his earlier crying jag. “Will you be okay?”

Bryan's cheeks were flushed as he pulled ba
ck. “Yes, Master. He said some harsh things, but I've been there. I know it was more than likely frustration yelling at me, not my Sir. The tears were because it hurts to see him so torn up.”

“
There’s my soft-hearted Bryan.” He jerked Bryan's head down and sealed their lips together.

After a short but thorough kiss, he released his
hana
loving the soft moan that escaped the other man. “We'll finish this later.'

Bryan nodded happily as he trailed Diachi toward the door.
“Yes, Master.”

He grabbed his keys off the hook, then shoved his feet into his loafers.
“Okay, I'm out of here. If you need anything, call Olivia at the club.”

“
Will do. I'll even shower and take care of dinner.”

Diachi's heart melted.
“Damn, I love you. Only you would take care of things here while I race off after another man.”

A cocky expression crossed Bryan's face and he placed a hand on one hip.
“Try it with any other man than Sir and you'll find out I'm not all that lovable.”

Diachi couldn't stop the chuckle
from bursting free. “I'd expect no less.”

“
Good. Now you better haul your ass.” Bryan shoved him toward the door. “Go show Sir the error of his ways, then bring him back here. I have a bone to pick with him about his stupidity.”

* * * *

“I hope you realize the wrath you just brought down on your head.”

Hark
stared down at the drink he'd been toying with for the past half hour as Olivia slid on to the barstool next to him. The scent of the scotch was potent and very tempting. But he'd promised both himself and Zhenya he wouldn't drink anymore. Especially after what his last bender had resulted in. But the need to loose himself in its fiery embrace was strong.

“
Ignoring me isn't going to work. Or save your ass.” Olivia rapped on the bar to garner the bartender's attention. “Give me whatever he's drinking.”

With a towel over his shoulder, Darin
nodded. “Sure thing, Mistress Olivia.”

While waiting for the drink, she turned back to face him
while Hark wished the floor would swallow him up. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a nosey mistress bent on matchmaking. “Look, I came here for a little peace and quiet.”

She arched her eye brow at him, and lightly tapped her crop against her leather covered thigh.
“Fat chance of that happening. The club has three demonstrations going on tonight. Master Caelan is teaching an advanced shabari class with Master Gabriel in the observation room, while Master Josh is holding a beginner's class for whip basics in one of the smaller classrooms.”

Realizing she'd only listed two, he looked up from
the smoky amber liquid. “And the third?”

A devilish glint entered her eye as she downed the shot
Darin had just delivered. “Oh, I think you'll enjoy it. It's going to be in the main room.” She patted his arm. “So everyone will get a clear view of Master Rai's demonstration on how to deal with his stubborn submissive.”

The bottom of his stomach
dropped out at Diachi's name.
Of all the fucked up nights to come in here, I had to pick the one Diachi and Bryan had a demo planned
. He ignored the sting of pain in the region of his heart, one neither man had bothered to mention it to him, as he reached for his shot.
Screw it. I need this
.

But before the glass touched his lips, it was whisked away.
He stared dumbfounded at his empty hand before a low voice teased his ear.

“There’ll
be none of that,
koibito
. This will be done sober.”

Hark
swallowed hard. Damn his luck, he didn’t want to deal with Sir at the moment. He wanted to hide. “Fuck.”

“Eventually we'll get there.” Diachi's expression hardened. “After I deal with you. Present.”

The firm command washed over Hark
. Instead of freezing at the dark promise on his Sir’s face, something broke free inside of him. Diachi had come after him.
And not just as a fucking friend
.

“
No.” Hark crossed his arms over his chest.

Diachi narrowed his eyes and prepared himself to lock wills wi
th Hark. “Are you safewording?”

Around them the club grew silent. He normally would've been leery to have this power struggle with a sub in front of others, but this time was different.
Having an audience would drive home his point in a way Hark would be hard pressed to forget.

“
No, I'm not.” Hark glared at him. “Because for me to need a safeword, I'd have to have a Dom.”

A slow smile crossed Diachi's face.
“You do, you just don't seem to remember the fact.”

Hark's lips thinned.
“Says who?”

“
Says the man who drove through the hell of Chicago’s rush hour traffic to retrieve you.” Diachi moved closer, until their chests were less than an inch apart. “And the same man who's going to break through those damned walls you insist on hiding behind.”

Hark growled and tried to move away.
“I'm not a damned package, nor am I a keep you can lay siege to.”

“
No, what you are is a submissive who can't seem to follow orders.” Diachi fisted Hark's braid and drew his submissive's head down, loving how the man's breath caught in his throat. “But we'll deal with your disobedience later. For now, I'm going to make sure you never doubt your place in my life again.”

“
And how do you plan to do that?” Hark smirked, obviously still trying to top from the bottom. “Last time I checked actions speak louder than words.”

“
You'll see.” Then without breaking their connection, Diachi called out to Olivia, somewhere behind him. “Mistress Olivia, if you’d be a dear and grab the black bag out of my locker, I'd appreciate it.”

“
Of course.” Before she left, Diachi could hear her consulting with Darin. The bartender disappeared to the other end of the bar, but Diachi wasn't going to worry about the man’s whereabouts. Not when he had a stubborn submissive to deal with.

Hark suddenly looked uncertain.
“I don't —”

Diachi tugged on his braid once more.
“Unless it's to safeword, I don't want to hear a word of out of you. It's time for you to quit hiding behind empty protests and put your money where your mouth is.” He waited for Hark to protest again, but he remained silent.

“
Good.” He nodded. “I want your shirt off.”

Hark's lips thinned and it looked as if he were going argue with him. But before he could say a word, Diachi gave him
one last warning.

“
Go ahead. Do it, but if you do just remember there’ll be consequences for disobeying a direct order from your Dom.”

Hark flushed, his hands remaining at his sides.

“
The same goes for ignoring a request from me.” Diachi nodded down at the dress shirt still covering Hark's chest.

Hark's hand
s slowly moved up to unbutton his shirt. As the edges parted, Diachi nearly drooled. Hark's chest was a work of art. Taut muscle lay over thick bones and an all-over golden tan. It drew his touch now just as surely as it had over ten years ago. He had to fight to keep his voice level. “That's a good start.” He lightly traced the opening. “But I want it off.”

Hark nodded and shrugged the material down his shoulders.
When it caught at his elbows, Diachi caught the bulk of the shirt and twisted it, effectively restraining his arms behind his back. A low sound came from Hark when he stepped even closer.

“
This is mine.” He cupped the obvious erection tenting the front of Hark's dress pants. Then he released Hark and slid his hand up across his abs to come to a stop directly over his sternum. “As well as this.”

Hark actually whimpered.
“But —”

“
But nothing. As soon as I get a few things through this thick skull.” He lightly tapped on Hark's temple. “Everything else will fall into place.” He leaned forward and nipped Hark's lower lip.

Hark blinked rapidly.
“Can I ask a question, Sir?”

“
Since you asked me so nicely, yes you may.”

Hark took a deep breath
, his chest expanding before Diachi's very eyes. “Why are you doing this? I'm nothing more than a temporary guest in yours and Bryan's relationship.”

Instead of his earlier anger at the assumption, Diachi recognized Hark's statement for what it was.
A plea for reassurance. “Because temporary is a word that’ll never apply to you. You're a dynamic Dom. Bryan can't sing your praises enough. But you're not just a Dom. I can feel the submissive you try to suppress and, before we leave here tonight, we’ll free him.”

A lone
tear spilled out of the corner of Hark's eye. “What if he can't be freed?”

Diachi gave his braid a warning tug.
“Nonsense. There’s always hope. I promise you this: not only will I break your inner submissive free, but there’ll be no doubt in your mind I've claimed every part of you.”

Hark's head bowed, hiding his eyes from Diachi.

“No, you won’t hide those expressive eyes from me.” He gave another yank on Hark's captured hair.

The soft fragrance of Olivia's perfume teased his nose
, telling him the Mistress had returned with his bag.

“
Here's your bag, Master Rai. If you'd like, I've had Darin prepare our newest edition to the bar.” She gestured to the manacles dangling from the rafter over the end of the bar. Under them was a stool that looked like a modified spanking bench. “I've found it works wonderfully with Jude, and as your sub is roughly the same size as him, you shouldn’t have to adjust the lengths too much.”

Diachi nodded.
“Thank you. I do believe I shall take your suggestion.” He snapped his fingers at Hark. “Come,
koibito
.” Taking ahold of his sub's arm, he moved down the length of the bar until he was standing just to the left of where the manacles dangled. Stripping the shirt off Hark, he briefly admired the strong muscles of his back. His eyes were drawn to a tattoo just to the right of his spine. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the Japanese symbols.
Interesting
.

Deciding now wasn't the time to inquire about the significance of the tattoo, he lifted one of Hark's arm
s and secured it snuggly within the fleece lined metal. After he ran a finger under the edge of it, he moved to the opposite side to secure Hark's other wrist. Once his sub was secured, he stepped back to get a good look at the sub standing so defensively next to the bar. Wrists cuffed and held apart by a spreader bar, Hark’s torso hovered over the polished surface of the bar, while the padded stool protected his hip bones from the hard edge of wood. But it wasn’t quite right. He wanted Hark slanted a bit more. Taking a moment to adjust the bench to his liking, Diachi then placed a palm against the base of Hark's back and pressed him forward. He nodded in satisfaction. Now his not-so-little
koibito
was ready for him.

“
This time, the pants stay. Not only because we're in the main room, but because I'm a greedy bastard. I don't want others gawking at your ass before I have time to reacquaint myself with it. But make no mistake, the next time you try a stunt like this, you'll be stripped down to nothing but your skin — club rules be damned.”

“
Yes, Sir.” Hark's response was muffled against his arm.

“
Good. Now, let’s see about breaking down some of those walls, shall we.” He stepped back and opened his bag. Examining the few items inside of its depths, he finally choose his favorite short whip and his suede flogger. These would work nicely. Setting them both on the bar in front of Hark, he smiled at his sub’s quick intake of breath. If he hadn't changed, Hark would fall into sub-space easily under the light to medium impact items. It had always amazed him how a lighter touch would send Hark over the edge, while every other sub he'd ever had — Bryan included, needed a firmer, harder amount of impact to achieve the same goal. His
koibito
had always been one of a kind.
And deserves everything we can give him
. A part of him ached for Bryan to be here with them, but knew this first time it had to be just him and Hark.

“
What is your safeword, Harkahome?”

“
Clover.” Hark's hoarse reply barely reached his ears.

“
Good. You’ll use it if it becomes too much.”

* * * *

Hark sighed, his body at war with his mind. He couldn't believe he'd let Diachi chain him to the bar like some slave. His body and some inner part of him wanted what his Sir could give him, but his brain kept screaming nothing good could come from this — that he was just setting himself up for heartache.

“
Count off. You won’t retreat within yourself,” Diachi ordered, just before the first strike landed on his shoulder.

The sting of what had to be a whip as it kissed his skin caused Hark's breath to catch. The familiar burn was a welcome one.
“One, Sir.”

“
Good boy.”

Diachi's approval stung almost as much as the whip had.
He didn't deserve it, especially after his blowout with Bryan. The next blow wrapped around his ribs, just under his arm pit. “Two, Sir.” He barely had time to call out the stroke before the whip found its mark on his other shoulder. He hissed as the physical pain chipped away at the emotional turmoil. “Three, Sir.”

“
Your skin still takes marks well, Harkahome. Perhaps later I’ll be able to use the flogger on every inch of you. Do you remember the last time you laid on our bed and accepted every stroke as the gift it was?”

The reminder was unwelcome, but Hark forced himself to answer.
“Yes, Sir. You sent me to sub-space.”

“
That's right. I did. And I intend to do it again.”

Hark arched as the whip found his opposite shoulder blade. He breathed through the pain.
“Four, Sir.” Then he lost track of time as his Sir plied the whip with just enough sting to keep him on the edge of true pain. He'd just croaked out, “Twelve, Sir.” when the whipping stopped. He drew a deep breath. He wasn't in sub-space — nowhere close, in fact.

“
What level are you?” Diachi appeared at his side, the short whip dangling from his fingers.

“
Green, Sir.” He met his Dom's eyes defiantly, wanting the man to know he was nowhere near conquered.

Diachi only smirked
as he trailed the end of the whip down Hark's spine. Hark bit his lip hard to contain the moan the action evoked. The tasseled tip of the whip tickled his skin and pulled at the welts Diachi had carefully placed on his back. When the whip retraced its path to his shoulders, he couldn't control the shivers racking his body.

“
Do you need a drink?”

The offer wasn't unexpected. A good Dom made sure his sub was safe at all times.

“I'm fine. It'll take more than a few strokes like this for me to require water, Sir.”

Sighing, Diachi
shook his head. “Resistant ‘til the end.” Diachi slowly dragged the whip up Hark’s extended arm, then back down to his side. “But we both know I'll win this battle of wills.”

“
Perhaps, Sir.”

Dropping the whip on the bar in front of Hark, Diachi picked up the multi-stranded
suede flogger. Inside his pants, Hark's dick hardened further. He'd been half hard throughout the whipping, but the sight of the flogger pushed him into full arousal.
The bastard knows how to drive me insane.
He bit his lip again to keep from begging Diachi to use the whip once more. Because sure as the sun rose in the east, Diachi would only ignore his plea, and still use the flogger.

“There’ll
be none of that.” Diachi used the handle of the flogger to lift Hark's chin. The strands whispered across his chest – teasing him with its feathery caress. “You won’t mar your lip in such a fashion. I've warned you about that in the past. Do you need a reminder?”

He shook his head.
“No, Sir. One week without kisses is enough.”

“
Let me catch you again and it’ll be twice the length.” Diachi rubbed the handle over Hark's lower lip. “This lip is mine. If I want to see it raw, it’ll be me who does it. Do you understand?”

“
Yes, Sir.”

Diachi nodded, then disappeared from view and in the process dragged the strands over his shoulder. The caress of suede against his sensitive skin was tormenting. He wanted to feel the dull thud of the many strands against his body
– to enjoy the mingling of pain and heat that would ultimately push him into the dark place where he only existed.

Behind him, he could hear the swish of the flogger as Diachi warmed his arm. Leave it to his Sir to be over indulgent in safety.
“There’ll be no need to count off this time, Harkahome. However, you will answer my questions.”