Mastering Melody (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

“Thank you,” she said as she tried to wipe the tears from her face.

“Eat up, little sub. We need to shower and remove that plug before we go down to the club.”

“Down? I don’t even remember leaving.”

He leaned over and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Last night after you fell asleep we carried you up to my apartment.”

“Apartment?” she asked, shaking her head. “I thought you lived in a house not far from Bradley’s place.”

“I still own the house.” No way was he explaining the real reason why he no longer lived there. Just the thought of Bradley and Melody living happily ever after in the same district had burned a hole of jealousy right through his gut. “We’re on the top floor of the club. I recently converted it into a self-contained apartment because I was spending more nights here than actually making it home.”

It was more or less the truth. The reason why he was staying here sat at the table beside him, but it wasn’t a vulnerability he was prepared to expose—not yet, probably never.

He watched her pick at the food, not all that enthused for it himself anymore, either.

“Come on, Mel,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go have that shower.”

I abandon breakfast with the enthusiasm of someone who has just dodged a bullet and seriously doubt I’ll ever enjoy hotcakes and warm syrup again. I have a nasty feeling that the smell will always bring up reminders of this experience, and I truly never want to feel like that again.

Thank god Ryan changed his mind.

But now I’m beginning to worry that I hurt him by rejecting a part of a lifestyle he lives. He owns a freaking BDSM club. Chances are he swims in the deep end of the BDSM pool. Trying my hardest to sound respectful, I try to apologize for letting him down.

“No need to apologize, little sub,” he says as he drags me into his embrace. I go willingly, happy to be held by a man I’m falling more deeply in love with every moment. “I promised Bradley we’d explore BDSM. I said nothing about forcing you to like it.”

“But I—”

“No buts,” he says with a soft tap on my bottom. “Shower.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say as I step under the warm stream of water. “Perhaps we can try again. Maybe if I’m more prepared I won’t freak out on you next time.”

“Why would you want to try again?” he asks, tipping my face up to his so that I have no option but to let him see my expression as I try to explain. I really
don’t
want to try again, but I will if it’s what Ryan wants.

“I want to make you happy.” Is that really me talking? Yes, I care for my friends. Yes, my love for this man and his brother is surprisingly deeper than even I realized, but am I willing to subjugate a part of myself to suit their needs? My hands begin to shake when I realize the answer is yes.

What the fuck is happening to me? When I found BDSM on the Internet and became curious about the lifestyle, I never really considered how it would affect my day-to-day life.

Ryan grips the back of my hair, holding me still as he ravages my mouth. The kiss goes on and on, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, his other hand roaming all over my naked body. I can feel his hard cock against my stomach as our passion burns out of control.

He lifts his head for a moment. “Are you sure about the ‘no condoms’ part of the contract?”

We have each other’s medical records. I’m on the pill. We’ve all agreed it’s something we want.

“Yes,” I whisper. His reaction is immediate. He presses me against the tiles, lifts me up, and thrusts straight into my pussy. I gasp as his cock fills me, the butt plug making everything tighter. He holds still a moment, giving me time to adjust.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders before he starts to slide out of my pussy. I nod, doing as he says a moment before he starts thrusting into me violently, taking me hard and fast, fucking me the way I’ve only ever imagined.

I’m shaking, moaning, trying to meet him thrust for thrust when he stops. He slides out of me, letting my feet drop to the ground, his hand still pinning me to the wall. I whimper inside my mind, worried that I did something wrong. He gropes behind him to turns the taps off.

“On the bench,” he says urgently, placing a towel over the hard surface. “Wrap your hands around the edge.” This part of the vanity is far wider and much higher than a normal hand basin. The reason becomes obvious when he places me facedown on the padded surface and helps me to brace myself. I am very literally at the perfect height for Ryan. He reaches under me, teasing my clit until it swells, before pushing the sensitive nub hard against the soft towel. I wriggle, gasping at the intense sensation as he rams his cock back into my pussy.

Holy cow! The fucking is brutal, his need obviously urgent—no wonder he insisted I hold on to the edge—but it’s when he starts playing with the plug in my ass that I realize I’m going to lose it. I gasp, trying to hold my orgasm back, trying to wait for the permission I hope is coming soon, very,
very
soon.

“When Master Bradley gets home he’s going to fuck this ass, little sub.” Ryan pulls the plug out slightly, pushing it back in carefully, the gentleness of the movement in complete counterpoint to his cock thrusting hard and fast in and out of my pussy. “But first we’re going to tie you to a spanking bench and show you what it feels like when it’s not a punishment.”

I groan, picturing in my mind the spanking I’ve long dreamed of. My pussy grips Ryan harder, squeezing around him, pulsing with my heartbeat as the beginning of my orgasm starts to slide through me.

“Ah, my little sub likes that idea,” he says as he grips my hips tighter and starts fucking me even harder. I can barely comprehend all of the sensations. My pussy is throbbing. My ass is squeezing the plug. My clit is so swollen I can barely think straight. My nipples are crushed against the towel, the friction of the soft material sending lightning bolts of sensation straight to my clit. “Come, now.”

I scream as he pinches my clit with his fingers and orgasm pounds through me. Again my body is not my own. My legs and arms jerk violently, heat flooding my system as bright colors burst behind my eyelids.

He stills, grinding his pelvis against my ass, his cock so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I finish and he begins. Finally, I collapse against the bench. Like a puppet with all its strings cut, I lie however I landed, giving no thought to moving to a more comfortable position.

Ryan leans over me, his weight briefly pressing against me as he moves my hair out of my eyes. I don’t even realize I’m crying until he pulls his cock out of my pussy, lifts me into his arms, and steps into the shower once more.

* * * *

Ryan washed his little sub down. He had an idea why she was crying, but he used the excuse of getting her clean to try and decide on how to deal with her tears. It didn’t help that he was feeling way off balance himself.

He’d known training a woman who’d once been his best friend—and his first lover—would be an emotional experience, but he’d never expected it to affect the way he felt about his chosen lifestyle. Granted, he didn’t want a full-time sub, but he had expected the woman he eventually took on as his collared submissive to play that role most of the time they were together.

With Melody he was already missing the easy banter and teasing they’d always shared.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered as he wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“It’s okay, little sub. Bradley knows what we’re doing.”

She looked at him, perhaps surprised that he’d guessed her reason for crying. “I know, but it’s still messing with my head. I don’t feel guilty, well, not in a way I would if I was betraying him.” She glanced up at him, her words sounding urgent. “I would never have betrayed him. When I came to this club it was only to convince myself that I didn’t crave this lifestyle.”

“That kind of backfired, didn’t it,” Ryan said, unable to hide the indulgent tone. It wasn’t unusual for women to seek out this lifestyle the way Melody had done. For some of them it was the only way to find something they didn’t even realize they needed.

“I’m really glad that I wandered into your club. I’m not sure how I would have explained everything to Brad. He’s never given me any indication that he would want to spank me.”

“A situation he intends to correct,” Ryan said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure it’s the first thing he plans to do when he gets home tonight.”

“How did I miss it, Ry?” she asked.

“Same way Bradley and I underestimated you.” He leaned over, taking her mouth in a soft kiss. “None of us were being honest about what we needed. That’s already changed.”

“I’m sorry I suck at being a full-time submissive.”

He grabbed her face in both of his hands, tilting her gaze up to his to make certain he had her full attention.

“I’m not,” he said honestly. “There are things about this lifestyle I don’t enjoy. Breakfast wasn’t my idea of fun, either.” He smiled at the confused expression on her face. “Mel, there are things I love about this lifestyle, and I plan to teach you them all, but if I don’t show you everything—even the stuff that I don’t particularly like—then I’m not giving you a chance to experience some things that you might really need.”

“There are parts you don’t like?” she asked, sounding very surprised.

“Yes, brat, there are parts I don’t like, either.” He ran his hand over the place where he’d paddled his possession on her ass last night. “And there are some things I really enjoy. Finding what works for all three of us is going to be challenging, but Brad seems convinced we can make it work.”

“But you don’t agree?” It didn’t sound like an accusation. Perhaps, she shared his concerns.

“I’ve lived this lifestyle long enough to know that exploring it can make you see yourself differently. I’ve seen women come through the front door believing themselves to be submissive who’ve instead found a streak of defiance that clearly taught them otherwise. I’ve seen men who thought they were Doms choose an almost vanilla life. I’ve even seen marriages fail when one partner needs this lifestyle more than the other.” He swallowed hard when he thought about the way Robert had fooled them all. “And I’ve seen abusive assholes who put their own needs above all other considerations.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He’d gone over and over it inside his head, and he truly couldn’t think of a way that he might have been able to identify someone like Robert through yet another screening process. Robert had been a hard-assed Dom, disliked by many of the subs but adored by others. Casey, a known masochist, had often played with the man simply because he was hard on his submissives. He’d been a good Dom…until he wasn’t. Even the comment Bradley had made a couple of weeks ago wouldn’t have been enough to raise alarm bells under normal circumstances. Robert was a very intimidating Dom, but in a BDSM lifestyle that was what some submissives were looking for.

“I do know,” Melody said, holding him tighter. “I know you well enough to be certain that you have a screening system that weeds out the bullies.”

“Apparently it doesn’t always work,” Ryan said, happy to hold her even if he should be insisting they go back to the Dom-sub protocols. He’d promised Bradley the three of them would try full time for a week. Standing in the shower talking to his best friend probably wasn’t what Bradley had in mind.

“Well, I still believe you did everything in your power to avoid it.”

“Thank you, little sub,” he said, glad for her support. “Now brace yourself against the wall and show me that ass.”

She smiled, leaned up to kiss his jaw affectionately, and then returned to the role she was expected to play. “Yes, Sir.”

I glance down at the simple cotton sundress that Ryan has dressed me in. It’s actually quite demure until one considers the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear. But it’s the thing he placed over my clit that has me intrigued. It seemed to take an extraordinarily complicated set of elastic straps to sit it in the right place, but the final result has something pulling gently against the flesh either side of my clit, keeping the tiny nub exposed instead of letting it hide between the upper folds of my labia. It makes it hard to walk naturally, but I suspect it will make it really hard to sit down and keep my legs closed. Considering how short the sundress is, that could be a problem.

I almost use my safe word when Ryan lifts a thick leather collar to my throat, but he sees my fear, promises that if I don’t like it that it will be only a one-time thing, and then attaches a tether to one of the D rings on the collar. I can’t tell by his reaction if this is a part of the Dom-sub experience that he likes or not, but I am very grateful for his obsession with safety. He runs the tether down the front of my body to my bound wrists, threads it through my fingers, and then loops the other end loosely around his own wrist.

He tugs gently, and the pressure is felt in my hands, not my neck.

“Okay, little sub?”

I nod. I have tears in my eyes—not from having to wear a leash, but from the caring I can feel coming from him. I’m beginning to get the impression that he’s never enjoyed this part of the Dom-sub relationship until trying it with me. Strangely, believing that gives me a sense of power, despite my restraints. How very weird.