The Dom Unleashes His Wolf [Unchained Love 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

“Shit!”

Gaynor tilted the bike into a sharp turn, missing Ramona by scant inches, then had to swerve again as she was now off her preplanned trajectory and couldn’t risk hitting a “shopper.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Gaynor wrenched the bike to one side then to the other to get back onto her set route and exited the mall. As she raced away from the pursuing cars, she caught sight of a huge cat racing out of the mall behind her. There was no cat—especially not an enormous animal like that!—supposed to be in the scene, either.

Gaynor shrugged and concentrated on riding. But she really needed to ask Ramona what the hell she was doing in the middle of a scene being filmed. And was the cat with her? Was it even a cat? It had to be the biggest goddamn cat she’d ever seen. Well, sort of seen. She’d just caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye. Or was she imagining it?

Gaynor took the motorcycle back to the storage shed, changed out of the costume she was wearing, including the full-face helmet to hide her unusual white hair and the fact she wasn’t the star actor, then hurried to the staff room to talk to Ramona.

“What the hell were you doing in that scene? I could have run you over.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guessed you got as big a fright as I did. Someone said there was a kitten in the mall, and I was sent to get it.”

“Kitten? It was enormous. Half lion if you ask me.”

“Oh, come on, Gaynor, it wasn’t that big. Besides, it ran away.”

“Okay. Sorry to yell at you.”

“No worries. Come and get a coffee.”

As Gaynor walked over to the coffee machine she calmed down. “Of course you were sent to rescue the cat. Everyone knows how good you are with animals. You’re the go-to person whenever we need an animal in a movie. Have you always liked animals ever since you were a child?” Gaynor asked Ramona.

“I grew up among cats,” she answered.

“That fits you,” said Gaynor, nodding. Ramona was a bit like a cat herself. Her voice was soothing and gentle, and she moved slowly, with fluid grace. Well, except for when she was almost being run over by a motorcycle of course!

They settled into chairs by the coffee machine, sipping their drinks, and were soon surrounded by other crew members, all talking about the scene that’d just been filmed.

How lucky am I to work here with these people? Imagine being paid to ride a bike on the sidewalk and through a mall. And every day is different. Who knows what I may be doing tomorrow. This is truly The. Best. Job. Evah!

“What about at school? Did you ever think of being a veterinarian or something like that?” Gaynor asked, her mind returning to the conversation.

“I left school early. How about you?”

“I enjoyed school. I was never one of the really popular girls, you understand. Never a cheerleader or the girlfriend of a top jock, but I always had friends and was the kind of person who actually liked schoolwork. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a nerd either, but I guess I derived satisfaction from completing my work on time, getting reasonable marks for my tests, and was happy enough doing homework on the weekends when I wasn’t hanging out with my friends.”

“So how did you end up working here?” asked Ramona.

“Oh, yeah, well in my final year, when other kids were talking about studying premed or prelaw courses or backpacking around South America, I read brochure after brochure, and there was nothing I really wanted to do. I was unmotivated, I guess. I ended up learning about stage makeup and costumes, spent some time working in giant department stores as a makeup consultant, and finally fell into this job a year ago. Now I’m happy beyond my wildest dreams, both at work and at home.”

“That’s right. You’re friends with Cameron and—Tor, is it?” Gaynor wasn’t exactly secretive about her private life, but she certainly didn’t go around telling people she lived with two men and played BDSM sex games as well. When she talked about her weekends she always mentioned both Tor and Cameron, so she supposed Ramona may have guessed. Or possibly she thought the men were gay. Gaynor snorted. No one could be less gay than Tor. Well, apart from his name, perhaps. Torquil. It sounded like a flower. Some variant of a jonquil perhaps! Which was even funnier because the jonquil was actually a narcissus, which fit with the stereotype of a man being gay, but it sure wasn’t right for Tor.

“That’s right. It’s short for Torquil. Tor told me his name is from the Norse god of thunder, Thor, and means ‘the protection of Thor,’” Gaynor said.

Which meant his name was perfect for him. He really was incredibly protective of both her and Cameron, and he could be quite warlike when he was angry about something, too. But his Dominant nature meant that his anger was never directed against a person, especially someone he considered in need of his protection and care.

A very complicated man, Torquil, and she was looking forward to learning more and more about him as their relationship deepened.

“I’d love to learn more about Tor. He doesn’t give away a lot about himself or his thoughts. Cameron’s quite different. He’s very open in his dealings with me. What you see is what you get. He’s an attorney, so when he’s in court, he can’t be nearly so transparent or he wouldn’t win too many of his cases, but I’m sure he’s always honest and trustworthy to those who employ him. His nature is such that he’s a loyal and true person.”

“Wow, you really have got a thing about him, haven’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

And herself? What about her?
Hmm
. Weighing up herself was hard. She did try to be loyal and helpful and trustworthy, but sometimes she was sidetracked by having fun, she supposed. Still, she’d never deliberately hurt anyone. She was certain of that.

“Gaynor! Ramona! Come over here. Nicholas is going to talk about tomorrow’s filming.”

Her introspective mood disappeared instantly. She jumped to her feet and, with Ramona, walked over to a group standing with Nicholas. “Oh, yes. What will we be doing tomorrow?”

* * * *

Tor efficiently led the visiting doctor through his ward, detailing relevant facts about each patient’s status and care, answering all questions crisply and easily. He sometimes told people he had a filing cabinet instead of a brain. Each person was filed away in there, along with all the details of their nursing care. He hated it when nurses referred to “the broken leg in bed six” and never stood for such behavior on his shifts. That broken leg belonged to person X who had broken it in situation Y, and they should always be called by their name, not by the reason they were currently residing in his ward.

The doctor presently walking around with Tor was a highly skilled surgeon, and all his patients were improving rapidly. The latest batch would be departing for a rehabilitation hospital within a few days. Tor was as pleased as the doctor. It was wonderful to see people up on their feet walking again, soon to be able to resume their regular lives. In fact, it was one of the best things about nursing, seeing people restored to health and their families.

Tor thought about his little family, Gaynor and Cameron, who had completed him in a way he’d never imagined. Being a Dom was what he was. He hated not being in control. His aim was to protect and care for people, and he knew he could do that best when he made the decisions, when they willingly handed over their lives to him.

Here in the hospital, some people were quite unprepared to let go of control. They wanted to argue about every medication, every item of food, every exercise they were asked to do. Tor understood their need to be informed, but he found their lack of trust and unwillingness to believe in professionals disturbing.

When Tor took his car to the mechanic, he trusted the man to diagnose the problem with the vehicle and fix it. So why couldn’t people bringing their health issues into the hospital trust the medical staff to diagnose and heal them? Crazy.

Tor had been stunned at how much he wanted to give Cameron pleasure. He was not gay, had never been the slightest bit interested in a gay partnership. But Cameron called to him on a level he’d never experienced before. It was as though Cameron was his baby brother, a man who he loved intensely and needed to draw out, to show him how to experience true, deep pleasure. Tor knew exactly what would give Cameron mind-boggling orgasms, but they were never by his hand, only by his orchestration. It was Gaynor’s body that brought Cameron bliss, but Gaynor was acting according to Tor’s plans, just as Cameron was. And in the orchestration of their pleasure, he, too, was fulfilled. His thinking side by the planning and development of their BDSM scenes, and his body by watching, waiting, controlling, then sharing Gaynor with Cameron.

Half his pleasure was cerebral. Without the chess-like moves of their foreplay, his climax would be a mere shadow of what he received when they played with whips and chains and floggers and other more-simple, ordinary household items.

The only thing that worried Tor was a secret he kept hidden deep inside himself. Something he’d never told anyone, ever. No one in entire life knew this fact. At times he sensed Cameron and Gaynor reaching out to him, needing to know more about him, but he couldn’t tell them. It might shatter the rapport they were building. He’d never been so close to anyone in a sexual relationship before. Never felt so much joy and satisfaction as in his family now. If they found out, they’d run screaming from him and his heart would be broken.

No. One day he’d explain. One day when they were so bound together as a threesome, so united with cords of love that would never sever, then he’d tell them, slowly and gently. But not now. Certainly not now.

In his locker here at work he had three sets of nipple clamps. Two were designed for men, the third, with a matching clit clamp, was for Gaynor. Tonight he’d use them in the scene he’d planned.

His cock became half-hard at the thought, but he forced his mind away from the clamps and back onto the patients. The last thing he needed at work was to be walking around stiff legged with an obvious hard-on. That would be totally unprofessional.

* * * *

At home in the apartment that evening, Gaynor knew Tor had something different planned for tonight. He never said anything, never even hinted about it, but he was walking more stiffly than usual and was holding himself so tightly controlled Gaynor knew there would be something new happening, something that excited him yet had him slightly apprehensive about her and Cameron’s response.

Cameron seemed very accepting to Gaynor. She, however, had made several no-go zones when they first accepted Tor as their Dom.

He’d taken them to a BSDM and fetish club once, and while she’d found it quite arousing, she knew she wasn’t the kind of person to squat on the floor at her master’s feet, wearing a collar and chain and drinking from a dog dish. She had no problem with other people doing it, but it wasn’t for her. She was also opposed to blood play and deep pain. It wasn’t just the whole issue of AIDS, it was also that Dominance was about freeing the submissive’s mind, letting them hand over all the stress and hassle of decision making while trusting their Dom to give them pleasure. And she wasn’t sure she would feel pleasure in the true, bone-deep pain that sent a submissive into sub-space. She knew some people did. One woman had sworn it took away the pain of a permanent health condition she suffered. But Gaynor had experienced a small episode of severe pain when she’d had a bad attack of appendicitis and been rushed to the hospital to have her appendix removed. It hadn’t been a good experience—although the medical staff had been very professional and helpful—and there was no way she wanted ongoing pain in a sexual relationship.

The sharp sting of a spanked bottom was another thing altogether. That was incredibly arousing. She had no fear of handcuffs, ropes, whips, and paddles in Tor’s hands, because she knew he understood her boundaries and would respect them. So what could he be introducing them to tonight?

“Wait for me in the dungeon,” Tor said as soon as they’d finished clearing up after supper.

That was code for beginning to play a BDSM scene. They had no dungeon. They had sex in the bedroom—well, mostly. Sometimes it was in the living room! But when Tor called the bedroom the dungeon, that meant certain rules applied.

First, neither Cameron nor Gaynor was permitted any kind of clothing. Tor was often naked as well, but not always, and the choice was his. As his submissives, Cameron and Gaynor had to follow the rule to always be naked. Fortunately, as a caring Dom, Tor always made sure the heat was turned up so they were never too cold, or if they were cold, it was only for a particular game, and he ensured they were warmed up again as soon as possible.

The second rule was no speaking unless asked a direct question. This was hard for Gaynor. She was naturally talkative and had to consciously remind herself to stay silent and use body language and visual cues instead of always chattering. But in another way, it was very freeing. It made her pay attention to what was happening and aroused her much faster than otherwise.

Tor had given them both the safe word “Tornado.” They’d never had to use it, but they all knew what it was. Besides, as Tor had explained, they were most unlikely to say it by mistake, unlike so many other potential safe words, and if ever there was a genuine tornado, it would be very handy to only need to say one word.

Gaynor undressed quickly, putting her dirty clothes in the hamper in the bathroom and brushing her hair out of its tidy ponytail. Both men preferred her hair down in the bedroom, even though it wasn’t particularly long.