Chains and Canes (7 page)

The woman he loved was being fucked by a near-stranger who’d beaten her to tears.

Holy Christ, Daniel only wanted more.

More meant more of his angel. Remy may have been outwardly calling the shots when wielding his belt, but Naya’s awareness of her needs and Daniel’s support had been key. This wasn’t a one-man show, especially when it involved the woman arching into each sharp thrust.

Daniel wanted to see it. If another man was fucking Naya, he
needed
to see it.

Either he’d vomit out of pure regret and fear, or he’d need to clamp the base of his dick to hold back wash after wash of depraved pleasure. It could flip either way.

“Enough kissing,” he rasped.

“Daniel?”

“Don’t stop.”

After securing Naya’s hands to the back of the sofa, he crossed to the other side, shucking his clothing as he walked. He was nude by the time he stood watching Naya and Remy in profile.

“Jesus.”

His whisper could’ve encompassed any number of surprises. First was the blunt, visceral shock of watching another man’s stiff prick slide so smoothly, so fiercely, in and out of his woman. Daniel loved her pussy: the way she tasted and clenched and took every inch, no matter how rough they played. He’d never been able to make her cry, but shit, he’d always been able to make her moan.

That joy belonged to another man now, and Daniel was stunned by the way he feasted on what he saw. By how much he wanted them to keep going, harder, faster, until they came right before his eyes. Two fit, magnificent people making each other crazy. He had a front-row seat to the dirtiest show a man could imagine.

Next he noticed Naya’s back, her ass. She was marked with pink and red welts—common enough after thirty minutes with a paid Domina. This was different. So much more intense. Not just because Remy’s belt had done such damage, but because they weren’t done yet. She had reached her threshold and her gorgeous release. That was usually where their session ended.

This wasn’t a session. It was a threesome. They were all going to come, and damn if that didn’t jerk Daniel’s arousal up another eight notches.

“Get over here, stud.” Remy clasped the meat of Naya’s toned hips. His thumbs dug into tender red flesh.

“I was on my way.” Daniel caught the man’s eye where they shared a moment of absurd humor. “I got distracted.”

“Boy, you’re too fucking gorgeous to watch. Who let you two get away with that bullshit?”

“Obviously people without vision.”

Daniel joined them, with one knee on the couch and one foot on the ground. He rubbed Naya’s back. As if saying hello, she looped her forearm around his thigh and held on. Each of Remy’s thrusts worked up her body and into his.

“Is it pretty,
mi
cielo
?”

She didn’t often call him her sky—that beautiful Spanish endearment—but he loved it. He kept petting, torn between reveling in the ecstatic bliss of her profile and the raunchy porno of Remy working his cock with angled precision. “Yes, angel. You’ll love seeing the marks in the mirror.”

“Did I make you happy, Sir?”

Daniel smoothed the hair back from her temple so that Remy could share that exotic profile. Her dark eyes were sleepy soft but blazing with breathtaking intensity. Lush burgundy lips parted.

Remy didn’t let the hair fall. He took it into one hand and twisted it around his wrist. A tether. “Happy,
chère
? You did very well.”

Naya hiccupped on something that sounded like a new sob. Daniel glared at Remy, but the man’s features were focused and full of purpose.

“What can I do?” Fresh tears choked her voice.

“Well, in a minute you’re gonna come.” His words were harsh, strained. “
Mon Dieu
, you’re gonna come so fucking hard. You deserve that.”

She groaned and dipped her head to reveal the delicate bumps at the top of her spine. “Thank you, Sir.”

“But what will make me happy, very happy, is if you can be a good girl and wait.”

This time her groan was fraught. “Sir…?”

“You heard me.” Wrenching her hair, he dipped low and touched his mouth to her ear. He looked up at Daniel and grinned. “Will you be good?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll be good.”

“Sure as shit you’ll be good. Now don’t say another word unless it’s red. And none of us wants to hear that.”

Daniel matched his grin, as if he’d turned conspirator against his own fiancée.

What was this humor, this playfulness, in sharing his woman? Remy made the assumption that he knew what Naya needed. He’d nearly lost his temper when giggles had become irrepressible. Yet Remy’d made sure that check and balance was set to rights, despite the obvious strain and confusion on his face. The way he’d helped Naya made Daniel ache. He wanted Naya happy—and it sure as hell seemed to be what Remy wanted too. The man had likely been wrapped tight as hell during those moments of uncertainty. But he’d recovered his composure, his authority, and even the relaxed contentment to tease.

Fascinating.
What kind of history made him so resilient?

Daniel couldn’t understand why he was so giddy. Maybe because Naya was so very good, and despite the evening’s ball-tightening turn, she was his. Any man with a hint of hetero would’ve chopped off body parts to have a taste of her. Sharing her with Remy was practically bragging.

“Come suck me, angel.”

He positioned his hips so that a tilt of her head meant Naya could lick his eager cock. How long had it been since he’d been this turned on…and held off on coming? He was practically volunteering to do what Remy was demanding of Naya.

He was waiting.

I won’t come until he tells me to.

Fuck.

How did he know that would change this from fantastic to amazing? More so, why was he okay with it?

Remy loosened his hold to give Naya better access to Daniel’s head, shaft, balls. “Can’t talk. Can’t come. All that energy’s gotta go somewhere,
non
? Suck him, girly. Take it out on his prick.” He caught Daniel’s eye. “And when
you
need to hold on to something, when that hot, wet mouth is too much to take—grip her sides and squeeze.”

“I—” Daniel’s sentence was cut short when Naya took him deep and hummed contentedly around his shaft. “
Fuck
.”

Remy smirked. Sweat trickled down his neck and wet the black tank top where it drew taut against his abdomen. “What was that, Daniel?”

“I don’t hurt my angel.”

“Course not,” Remy said, so matter-of-fact. “You’re gonna hold on tight while this stunning, beaten, greedy little submissive services us both.”

Naya groaned. Between that vibration on his dick and her implacable hold on his inner thigh, Daniel matched her throaty growl. He slapped his hands onto her back, pinched, kneaded her hot flesh as she tortured him with stronger, more forceful sweeps of her tongue. She changed angles so that he could thrust to the back of her throat. Pleasure rocketed up his spine. He tightened his fingers.

“Fuck, yes.”

Remy’s words were a low hiss. Approval. Wonder, even, as he stroked with a building rhythm. The wonder affected Daniel the most. Naya was brag-worthy, but only to a man with sense enough to appreciate what writhed beneath his body. Remy’s awe made it work. Had the man seemed to regard this as an ordinary fuck, it would’ve been just that—a one-time deal. For Daniel and Naya, it would’ve been a fun-time memory to share for the rest of their lives.

Instead, Remy was a work of art. And true works of art took Daniel’s breath away.

“You think too much, boy,” Remy said with that teasing smile. “You’ve known how to make this sweet thing hurt.”

“Only because…”

Remy’s hips slowed. “Naya, let him go.”

With a gasp, Daniel used her back to brace himself against the sudden loss. No wet mouth. No clasping arm. She released him entirely. Remy’s words were a spell that controlled her completely.

The Cajun reached out and ran his knuckles under Daniel’s chin, then grabbed it. Daniel could’ve wrenched free. Could’ve shoved him away or thrown him out the door.

He didn’t. He looked straight into eyes that were a shade darker than his own, eyes that burned with the fire of creativity and obsession. This was choreography. Remy was still running the show.

The Cajun grinned, salacious and happily arrogant. “I said you know how to make her hurt, and you didn’t finish your sentence. ‘Only because,’ you said. Interesting.” He released his grip and trailed elegant fingers down Daniel’s throat, pecs, abs, and stopped short of where Naya’s tongue had left Daniel’s hard cock slick with saliva. “Because why?”

As if snapping out of a dream, Daniel shook his head and shifted back. He positioned Naya’s hips so that her body was forced to give up the prize of Remy’s prick. “Forget it.”

Remy shrugged, standing there nude and achingly erect, as if the outcome didn’t matter. A flash of a deeper emotion struck Daniel as disappointment. Loss. Maybe even…hurt?

“Just a question, Daniel. Don’t need to take offense and ruin the fun. It’d be fine if you really don’t know.”

Daniel felt as if he’d been standing at the window overlooking the city below—but without the safety of glass between him and the pavement. Something was happening, and it was scaring the shit out of him. The shimmer of hopefulness behind Remy’s jaded expression only added to the confusion—and the appeal.

“Daniel…?” came a soft whisper.

Remy shot Naya a hard look, grabbed her hip and smacked one ass cheek with the sound of a whip’s crack. She yelped. “Not a word,
chère
. Remember? You were being so good. This is between me and your boy.”

“I’m not a boy,” Daniel said on a frustrated growl. “Not hers and especially not yours.”

Another infuriating shrug. “You got a body that could fuck like a machine. That true, Daniel? You make me hot just looking at you.”

Swallowing tightly, Daniel fought to keep his eyes open. Stare this man down. Or at least look at Naya’s sweat-sleek body and feel the vibrations of her lithe frame bubbling with unspent energy. Or even Remy’s cock—so proud and hard.

At Remy’s words of admiration, however, his instinct was to let his eyes drift shut.

“I said I’m hot, Daniel. Come take my shirt off.”

Naya gasped. The tense, throbbing beat of Daniel’s heart stuttered, then jumped to full speed. He was floating out of body because,
oh shit
, he stood. Two steps brought him within inches of Remy’s lean torso. The man was shorter, but his crooked, arrogant smile dared the difference to matter. Daniel gripped the hem of that plain black tank top and pulled. Slowly. As if unwrapping a present.

Remy was languorous in lifting his arms. Every inch of black fabric gave way to magnificent muscle and smooth, almost hairless skin. The damp tank top released with an elastic snap. Remy ripped it out of Daniel’s hands, tossed it aside. The smile was gone. Desire remained. Daniel’s guts flipped and his cock thrust between them, so near to where Remy’s poked up from the open fly of his jeans.

“Eyes up here, Daniel.”

A hot flush climbed Daniel’s chest, neck, face. Caught looking. Holy hell, how could he not? He’d never been so near to a naked, aroused man. He’d imagined it being nerve-wracking and full of tense anticipation, but the charged power of the moment spiked higher than the fantasies he’d harbored for years.

“What do you want?” was all he asked.

A huge portion of him still fought.
This isn’t right.
Even watching Naya being abused and slammed by the charming Cajun was easier to accept than unmooring impulses long held in check.

“I want an answer to my question. You’ve known how to hurt her. You don’t because…why?”

“Daniel,” Naya whispered. “Just tell him. We all know.”

Without missing a beat, Remy slammed the full force of his hand against her other ass cheek. “Shut it,
chère
. Last warning, or the belt won’t be our friend anymore.”

Daniel closed his eyes, part embarrassment, part freeing relief when he said, “Because you told me to. You told me to hold on to her back and squeeze, and that’s why I did it.”

Remy’s eyes darkened to nearly black. His finely shaped lips opened on a slow exhale. “That wasn’t so hard.” The words were a throaty rasp, full of admiration that made Daniel’s skin glow with heat. “Now come fuck your girl.”

Everything was ballet. Daniel had never been involved in something so physically beautiful and so mentally goddamn excruciating. Surging into Naya, though, was like coming home after a long walk through a dark, dangerous forest. He found the pace, the depth, the strength they both loved. She arched her neck, but true to her orders, she didn’t say a word. Didn’t even make a sound.

Remy knelt beside her on the couch, jeans thrust down, condom off. He was stroking himself. His avaricious gaze shifted across their bodies. The mysterious shadows Daniel had seen in Remy’s eyes were long gone. “So good,” he whispered. “Both of you, so good.”

Trying to stave off the inevitable need for more of the man’s praise, more of his goddamn choreography, Daniel bucked harder. She was so damn wet. She was gorgeous. She was his and he could come whenever he wanted because she was what he needed, all he needed…

A soft chuckle dragged Daniel’s attention back to where Remy was jerking off in earnest. Quick, fast, violent strokes. “Waiting for something, boy?”

“Fuck off.”

“Fine, fine. Go ahead, Naya girl. Come for us. Make as much noise as you want. I want to hear all of it.”

Her release was like a burst of cannon fire. First her lungs, on a shriek that had been pent up for what must’ve seemed like a lifetime. Then her body. She reared back, slapping against Daniel’s pelvis with each thrust.

“Hurt me please, Sir.”

Remy complied without hesitation—impressive, seeing as how he’d needed to release his cock to do so. He used taut, curved fingertips to scrape her fresh welts and red streaks. Naya shuddered, shivered. “
Sí
, Daniel. You too.
Dios
, yes, thank you.”

He looked down. His fingers were digging into the tender, pink flesh of Naya’s ass. He was gripping hard enough to leave bruises too. Marks of his own.