Chains and Canes (14 page)

“See these?” Remy traced his nails around her dusky-pink nipples. “They’ve been chasing me for days. Practice. Dance. In my dreams.”

Daniel clasped his hands at the small of his back. He wrapped his fists around the pins he’d been given. “I see them, Sir. They were the second thing I noticed about Naya.”

Naya’s grin flashed. She knew the rest of this story, but she kept her thick lashes lowered.

“And the first thing?” Remy kept petting her breasts, but even in this he revealed his lust for the sadistic. Scratches blended into pinches. He flicked his nail across one beaded tip until she made a soft subvocal sound, somewhere between a grunt and a moan. “That you noticed about her?”

“She was standing on one foot, with her other leg straight in the air. I’d walked in on a practice.” That had been a damn good day. One of the best in his life, though he hadn’t known it at the time. He’d brought a handful of backers to see the tech run-throughs of an off-Broadway musical. The production had folded after twelve weeks and marked the last time Naya had danced a leading role.

Daniel had carried away the best prize of the entire run. His angel.

Remy chuckled. He pinched a nipple between his knuckles and twisted. Her head melted backward. “Flexibility has undeniable power.”

“You’re bendy too, Sir,” Naya said with a half-cheeky, half-dreamy grin.

“Bendy? Is that the technical term? Now you’re just being mouthy because I believe I said something about keeping quiet.” He cupped her breasts again, apparently more lenient as they began almost from scratch. “Daniel, time for you to do your job.”

Daniel brought the clips from behind his back. They were so simple. A little spring between two pieces of wood. A smidge of black rubber.

He clipped them one by one on Naya’s nipples. She gave a tiny squeak after each, then opened her eyes. Looked straight at him. “Thank you,
mi cielo
. Just right.”

What was he supposed to make of that? It felt like pride, despite every logical, protective impulse. Hurting her and keeping her safe were mutually exclusive. The worshipful look on her face said that wasn’t the case.

Remy dug hard enough that he left red arcs across her cleavage. “Pretty girl. You need a few more.” He added a line of his own clothespins along the upper swells, emphasizing those lovely curves. He flicked each one.

Daniel was mesmerized. He’d been part of that. He still was. He’d put the first clips on her, with Remy’s purred instructions echoing in his mind.

“That’s the kind of accessory you like,
ma petite chère
. The cruel kind. More bite than pretty.”

“Yes, Sir.” Naya was all breathy moans. Her ass had to be hurting from the hard paddling. Now her tits would burn—not as violently, but with the steady pulse of pain that made her glow. “You gave me that. Daniel gave me that.”

“Now what would you like?” Remy turned her body and drew her back against his chest. He caught Daniel’s gaze over her shoulder as he stroked thick hair back from her temples.

“Not my place. Not Daniel’s either.”

In silent agreement, Daniel stayed still—posed to be admired. He’d admired Naya that way during their penthouse session. That they had even assembled for a second round was mind-blowing. There was no such thing as wrapping his thoughts around the fact he was kneeling. It simply
was
. No thought…or really, that was the bonus. This was a rare chance to let go and turn it all over to someone else.

Turn it all over to Remy.

“That’s right.” Remy’s voice was a wickedly sibilant purr, softly blended and tempting. He spoke more carefully than Naya, whose words always carried excitement and fire, but both turned Daniel on. “It’s
my
choice.”

Remy pulled Naya onto his lap, with her back against his chest. With her legs draped over his spread thighs, she was on lewd display, especially when Remy gripped her wrists and lifted her arms overhead. “See this sexy, lickable prize of a woman?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re going to watch me fuck her.” Remy flashed another of those smiles. The piercing in his eyebrow gleamed under the carefully dimmed office lights.

This was a room where Daniel had entertained businessmen. He’d closed deals, where everything was finished except the lawyers’ squawking. To be particular, Daniel had sat on that same dark brown couch and held a glass of scotch while waiting for the owner of a microchip factory to name his real price. The answer had been in the high seven figures. Deal done. Future secure.

Now his beautiful angel was straddling a depraved dancer whose cock rose between her legs and brushed the wet seam of her pussy. And as strange as it might seem from the outside, Daniel was ecstatic. He was living a charmed life.

He’d been sure Remy wouldn’t be able to pull them out of that nosedive. They’d have gone down in flames after less than two flights—great, bursting flames to obliterate any chance of exploring this avenue again. It had been one thing to get burned by that greedy face-fucking asshole Geoffrey, and his selfish lack of respect. This was different. With Remy, they were running full tilt. To have it turn sour would’ve ended their ability to stomach experimentation.

Leaving Daniel out in the cold.

Naya would still have her paid sessions, but who would teach Daniel how to close down his mind and submit? To serve? No one had ever tempted him to contemplate the possibility.

Only this chance. Only Remy and his mysterious blend of confidence and deep reserve. On a level deeper than consciousness, Daniel thought Remy must know what it was to submit—although never by choice. That knowledge, however it had been attained, gave him an understanding of what it took for Daniel to obey. A special respect. Because although he knelt while Remy prepared to fuck Naya, Daniel would be admired for his patient subservience, never derided or ridiculed.

He’d be
praised
for it.

Remy adjusted his knees to hook under hers. “In my bag are condoms. Put one on me.”

Daniel’s guts took a hot twist. A good one. His prick was throbbing, achieving new degrees of hard. He should have jerked off before that morning, or once he’d arrived at the penthouse, but he’d figured out why he’d refrained.

Naya wasn’t the only one under Remy’s spell.

The strip of condoms was obnoxiously long. He held it up by one end. “Sir? Ambitious?”

Remy grinned. “Are you meaning to tell me you’re not? That you don’t look at this beautiful pussy and have all sorts of thoughts?” He matched actions to his words, pinching Naya’s dripping flesh. Her cunt disappeared beneath his grip. “That’s not just taking into account me and her. I have plans for us too.”

Daniel had no choice but to shudder. It reached down low in his stomach, grabbed him by the spine and shook. Remy would take him. That much was nearly truth.

He was able to steady his fingers when he opened the condom and rolled it down the length of Remy’s fat cock. All three of them stared at the action as if watching fireworks, with awe and a tiny, primal hint of fear.

“Such an obedient man.”

Remy snagged the leash, then circled it around Naya’s neck. It was loose enough, so long as Daniel didn’t back up. Naya was sleek and curved and ornamented with those damn clips. Remy pinched one. She moaned. Her eyes fluttered closed. Moisture gleamed between her lips—both her mouth and her pussy.

“And such a good girl. Obedience coming at me from both sides. What is a man to do?”

Daniel had ideas, but it wasn’t his place anymore. He hoped one day those reminders wouldn’t be necessary.

Lifting Naya’s hips, Remy shifted her position on his lap so that his cock notched just inside her slick opening. He dropped her down and wrapped his arm low around her hips. He fucked her slowly, never breaking eye contact with Daniel—who thought he might combust. Like the dance partners they were, they performed in his own private X-rated show.

Remy tugged on the leash. “Lick us, boy. Make it even better for your angel. Make her clit sing.”

Naya giggled. Her head dropped so that her chin brushed her chest. The ends of her hair curled around her clothespins. “Sing. Daniel can’t sing at all.”

Remy ground up into her body. Raw sinew. The cords along his forearm flinched with every move. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Oh, but he makes me feel so damn good.”

Yes, Daniel knew how to do that. He leaned closer, angling his mouth toward Naya’s clit. The swollen flesh tasted of sweet honey and salt.

That Remy slowly stroked in and out made the intimate act even better. A million times better. They moved in sync. Licks into thrusts. Daniel dragged his tongue down to Remy’s latex-covered shaft. That flesh tasted nicer bare, of course, but being used for the man’s pleasure was what Daniel really craved.

“You like that, boy. I can feel you shaking.” Remy twisted the leash. Closer. Pulsing the strip of leather to command Daniel’s every move. Then he played out a little distance. “Show us your hard prick.”

Daniel leaned back. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want to stroke that dick, don’t you? Come across us both?”

He nodded. He wanted to watch them fuck, watch them move together and let himself explode. Be part of their dance.

“Here’s the deal.” Remy adjusted his stance, letting Naya sink deeper. Her moan was throaty and long. “Back up. Lean back farther.”

Although Daniel obeyed, he hesitated this time. He was at the end of his leash, which remained wrapped around Naya’s neck. Her eyes fluttered so fast and wide that he saw the whites. “Oh,
Cristo
,” she gasped. “Baby. Sir.
Oh
.”

“You better come fast, Daniel,” Remy said with that intoxicating brand of control. “Naya’s waiting on you. She’s waiting to breathe and for her turn to come.”

Daniel flew to a long-past-gone section of his brain. There was nothing in the world but the three of them and the orders Remy dropped in the space between them. The man didn’t bark. He didn’t bluster.

He didn’t need to.

Daniel covered his cock with his taut hand. Strokes rocked sensation through every cell. He jerked faster and pinched the sensitive head.
More.
He couldn’t look away from the leash wrapped around Naya’s neck, how her cheeks were turning softly pink and her mouth opened on gasping inhales. The pleasure tingling in his balls was going to shut down his mind.

Good.

His release flew high, lashing across where Remy and Naya were joined. The orgasm pushed black around the periphery of his vision, but Daniel blinked it away. He wanted to see Naya. Her expression was enraptured, awaiting her turn.

“There you are, girl. That’s what we needed. Come now,
chère
.”

She’d been holding back a thunderstorm. A sharp groan echoed through the room. Her toes curled, digging behind Remy’s calves. So beautiful—a living sculpture when she came and her graceful muscles seized. She had no competition, not even the stars in the sky.

Remy went last. He yanked the clips off the insides of Naya’s breasts, pulling a sharp scream from her and leaving angry red marks in their wake. He jerked deep, his body pulsing.

His climax united them in pleasure and shared gasps—joined them if only for the night.

Chapter Fourteen

Naya woke up alone in the bed she shared with Daniel in their apartment. It was like waking in an airless coffin, surrounded by black without anyone to hold. She’d feasted on attention for days—with Remy in the rehearsal room, on stage, and caught between two masculine forces of nature.

Her throat was scratchy. She turned over and fought to open her eyes. The drapes were drawn against the sunshine trying to burn its way inside. Aspirin and a bottle of water waited on her nightstand. She didn’t have anyone to hold right then, but she’d never be on her own.

A shiver crawled over her skin, making her duck beneath the covers for a few more minutes. To regroup. She was taking so much for granted. Daniel, mostly. Her devotion to Remy the night before had bordered on terrifying, just as her utter, complete confidence in Daniel meant she could never submit to Remy without him.

She downed the aspirin and crawled out of bed. Holy hell, she was sore. Unlike the other times she’d indulged in masochism, she didn’t stop to admire the aftermath painted on her back and her very tender ass. The tiny clothespin pinches on her breasts were proof enough of what had happened.

After making herself halfway presentable, wearing a simple cotton cami and pajama shorts, she plodded through the apartment. A dancer? Yeah, right. She felt as graceful as a dining room chair.

Daniel sat on the white leather sofa.

At his elbow, an empty coffee cup and plate of toast crusts were all that remained of his breakfast. He was scanning the morning papers on his tablet, with vintage Pearl Jam as his quiet soundtrack. He hummed along, but Eddie Vedder would’ve been annoyed. Naya hadn’t been lying when she’d said he couldn’t sing. Daniel was completely tone deaf.

She stood by, soaking in the sight of him. Professionally neat hair caught sunlight from the east-facing windows and blazed bright blond. The angle of his neck was almost intimate because of his artless relaxation. His mouth was bunched in concentration, until some lyric flitted past his lips. The width of his shoulders was accentuated by a white broadcloth dress shirt. The fabric was just thin enough, just pale enough, to reveal each shift of muscle. He worked hard to keep his body so fit and firm. He worked hard at everything he did.

“Hey,” she said.

He twisted to look at her over the back of the sofa. “Hey.”

“What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning the music down two clicks. “Your, uh, choreography partner texted. He doesn’t think either of you should push so hard. Take the day off from rehearsals. Something like that.”

“You’ve been texting?”

The sunlight shone a spotlight on Daniel’s blush, helping to take the edge off her eyes-wide-open tension. “Just a little,” he said. “He’s funny.”

“I know. He makes me laugh.” She circled the couch and noticed that he wore khakis. “Not going in this morning?”