Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “Deacon,” she offered, volunteering up her body. “You’re not okay.”

  “There are a million reasons we shouldn’t do this,” I mumbled, kissing her lips as I laid on top of her. “And one reason we should.”

  Her hands skimmed over my cheeks. “What’s that?”

  “Love.”

  Her legs curled around mine…and grinding turned into…slipping inside of her warmth…tumbling…falling in…love.

  And love was so easy.

  And love was so beautiful.

  Just like her.

  Iris in love.

  “I’m sorry,” I say on the deck as I glance at the welts on his back. “I didn’t mean for what happened to escalate.”

  “I understand, but it doesn’t make it any easier,” Sal replies, lighting two smokes. “I can’t believe she had the balls to do that to me.”

  “… What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t fucking know,” he mutters. “It would be so much easier to just be two fabulous lumberjacks with one diva up in the mountains, but I can’t do that. I’m going to marry her,” he declares. “I’m going to put that fucking rock on her finger and shout to the world that she’s mine.”

  “… Are you okay?”

  “You mean aside from the girl I collared switching on me?”

  Laying my hand on his thigh, I say, “Yeah.”

  “She was incredible, Cruz.”

  I grin and run my fingers through his curls. “She’s always going to be incredible, but so are you.”

  “I fucked up, man.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I say. “Where is she now?”

  “Sleeping.”

  Extending my hand, I instruct, “Let’s give her what she wants.”

  “You can’t be serious…”

  “Nightlife in Osaka is amazing.”

  He tugs on his goatee as he bites his lip. I put a finger under his chin and lower to kiss him hard. “Let me introduce her to my doll.”

  “You’re asking a lot considering where all we’ve been,” he rebukes. “It’s not like that comes easily.”

  “I’m always going to ask a lot, and you will deliver because you like the push I provide. You’re ultimately my slut, Sir.”

  “Don’t remind me,” he huffs, popping his knuckles. “And I won’t even bother to tell you what seeing you in a sexhat does to me.”

  “… Is it good?”

  “I finally get it,” he acknowledges, taking my fingers as we go shower in Iris’ bedroom. Not messing with Rowan, I don’t want her or the calamity that would bring. My focus is clear—Sal and Iris.

  Taking my time, I gently lather his welted skin. I love touching this man. I take my time as he closes his eyes, and I meticulously scrub every inch of him.

  The hot water pours over his chest as I lower to my knees and kiss the head of his cock. My mouth slowly suckles him to full arousal, and his fingers grip my hair.

  “God, suck my dick, Cruz,” he moans, bucking wildly. “Gag on me, baby.”

  The shower door opens, and we glance at Iris, staring wide-eyed. I grab her wrist. “You’re getting in here.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she apologizes, blushing. “But, I’ll gladly join you.” I let her hand go so that she can remove her clothes. “I just needed to piss.”

  “Iris…you just said piss!” Sal booms like it’s the greatest thing ever.

  “Yeah, well, it feels like I drank a gallon of water.”

  “Get in here!” he excitedly demands. “Nowala!”

  “And get on my shoulders,” I urge, grinning. The hesitation in her expression is evident. “Not a chance I’m ever dropping you.”

  “I really have to piss!” She grits her teeth. “Please.”

  “Up!” Sal snaps as he helps her up to my shoulders, and I resume sucking his dick. “Now, twinkle, Angel,” he suggestively growls in a low sordid tone. “Let him have it.”

  “Sal!”

  “Do it and kiss me while you do!”

  They’re heavily making out as I experience Iris’ flood over my backside. I’m so fucking turned on at his direction of her and how she listens. I watch the lightly tinted piss trickle to the drain as I serve my role as glue. I am the vehicle to her seeing the parts of him he keeps hidden. They need me as much as she needed to pick up the whip.

  But there is no substitute for me.

  No harnessed dildo can replace me.

  A part of Sal is in love with me. And I’m okay with a part—big or small—if he receives my love. I dig my fingers into his ass and pull him closer, and I try to ignore the hot, wet pussy on the back of my neck. I can smell her.

  Randomly, I stop sucking Sal and ask, “… Are you still bleeding?”

  “Depends on the day,” she informs. “I was earlier until Sal decided to fuck me senseless.”

  “Hey,” he says. “It was fucking good.”

  “No, it was amazing.”

  “Do it,” he mutters.

  “… Do what?”

  “Let Cruz fuck you, Iris.”

  “Hard limit, Sal,” Iris reminds as I seal my lips around his dick. I’ll do whatever; they need to work this out. I am the bottom of this triangle…not the weakest point…but the strongest grounding mechanism they have.

  “Don’t question this.” He holds onto her as she slides her pussy over my back. “We push the limits, or we never get past them.”

  Jesus fuck…her swollen pussy…sends an immediate surge to my cock.

  He’s either been playing roulette and doesn’t care if I knock her up or he believes she is malfunctioning.

  I grip Sal’s forearms and stand up. I look him in the eye. “It’s yours, man.”

  “I’m very well aware of what I’ve said, and if I catch you two alone again in a bed doing that, I am punishing you in a way neither one of you will ever forget.”

  “Then why do this now?”

  “Because I said so, and ultimately, I’m still the boss here,” he cockily says, regaining his power position. He used ultimately just to get back at me for calling him my slut.

  “Yes, Master,” I reply with a mock salute, using my middle finger. “Let it be known; this is a horrible idea.”

  I spin to Iris. Her hair is dripping, and I play with the ends before I graze my knuckles over her nipple.

  “Are you going to fuck me, Deacon?” she breathlessly whispers what I refuse to answer. I speak in body language as I slam my body against hers, and we hit the shower wall. Pinning her with my weight, I pick her up and thrust hard inside. “I love you,” she whispers against my lip. “So much.”

  Sal kisses my shoulders and runs his tongue over my back piece as he lowers to his knees. He bites at the flesh of my ass as I buck into his girl…who are we kidding? She is our girl…a girl we share in unconditional love.

  It isn’t a lawless land, but it’s damn close.

  His fingers spread my ass cheeks as his tongue teases my opening. I groan into Iris’ mouth as we kiss and become one with three. He fills my ass up to his knuckle, and I don’t flinch because I can’t.

  I want them—both—equally for all eternity.

  I have performance issues Sal doesn’t possess. He could fuck anyone, anywhere. And so could she. But I can’t. I must be seized at the moment and taken to a place where I hold jurisdiction or be so captivated by their love in duality that I just don’t care.

  I’ve threatened rape, but the truth is…I could never keep my dick up long enough to assault anyone. I’ve been accused, and Sal has laughed it off because he knows me. I speak the lies, provoking the fear, but these two know my bluff.

  They understand what no one else knows.

  Saint Cruz likes many shades.

  I will forever be a lost young man, under the bleachers, getting brutally gang-raped by a bunch of jocks. My choice in sexuality spurred on the attack, and it’s been the source of pain for my entire adult life. The need to conform for the sake of everyone else’s happiness, but t
he reality is—I’m never happier than when I’m with them.

  He shields the hurt, claiming it as his own, and she nurtures the desire for a normal I know I can never have. But it’s okay because it’s just enough.

  She is just enough.

  He is more than enough.

  And they are my perfection.

  His rise is substantial, fiercer than my own, and I know he can inflict a grievous pain despite my shallow pleas of negative ambiguity. I’ll fight against his rite, but I’ll allow his pass. In the end, he brings love with the sudden thrust in my ass.

  He doesn’t take my vessel often, preferring to make a profound statement about where we are every time. He provides the lesson with his tool, and my heart soaks up every drop of his cum. His hand grips around my neck.

  I never choke him.

  He is my lover.

  He is my Dominant.

  “You like fucking my bitch, boy?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I reply, sloughing against his firm hold. He is the Master of the mayhem, and his mafioso rings like cathedral bells on a crisp Colorado morning. I am his Saint, and I serve his needs, but he will hemorrhage himself to save me.

  “Iris, how is that dick?”

  I snarl as she coaxes, “Hard as a fucking stone, Lucy.”

  “Good boy,” he praises. “You didn’t think I would leave this undone.”

  “No, Sir,” I reply, crying. “I know you fix my broken.”

  “When I know you are broken, I do,” he vows with a commitment. “Always.”

  His fingers spread against the wall, and Iris reaches up to hold his hands. I scan over his bands and ink and her beguiling sapphires as I am trapped in their lair…just call me Deacon Nakamura Raniero because…I belong to them.

  This is my position.

  This is my happy place.

  And if anyone fucks with them, I will unleash a frenzied beast from the chambers of a barbaric hell. Under the guise of a charming renegade biker, I possess a man crafted from the slaughtered discards of my enemies.

  Don’t mess with my hosts.

  Or I kill without care.

  Reckless. Rebellious.

  I am my father’s son.

  And I am a dark Saint.

  88

  Lip Kissed with Berry Bliss

  His Ride

  My fingers tilt Sal’s chin up as Iris silently gawks in awe. They’re sitting on the bathroom counter with the sink between them. I’m in hog heaven doing makeup, hair, and glam for both. “There is no way I can fit in her leather shorts.”

  “You’re going to try,” I contest, spot brushing powder over him. “Close your eyes.”

  Iris’ face is done, but her hair is in rollers. She’s wearing a robe, and Sal is in a towel. I’m rocking the sexhat and jeans as Rowan saunters in with a gasp.

  “They will not fit unless you plan on taping my dick back, and I draw the line there.”

  Rowan mutters, “Holy Mother of God!”

  Iris giddily giggles, “Doesn’t he look gorgeous!”

  I proudly smirk because I own this. “Yes! You hitting the clubs?”

  “Yeah,” Iris says as an awkward silence passes. I don’t want Rowan with us. I blink at Iris, praying she hears the message loud and clear. But the next words out of her mouth are, “You should come.”

  “I don’t want to interfere,” she says.

  Sal’s bright green eyes spring open. “You wouldn’t be. Cruz could do your makeup too!”

  Excuse me, Sir, Cruz doesn’t want to makeover punk-girl-gone-tomboy.

  “If you want me to do you,” I reluctantly grumble. “Take a shower.”

  “Oh, I want you to do me.” Bitch fucking strips her clothes off in the middle of the bathroom.

  “Holy fuck!” I yell. “You’ve got some ink.”

  She turns to the side as I eye the snake running from her ankle to her collar bone. It isn’t wide, but long…and sexy as fuck with branches and vinery. Her nipples are both pierced, and I wish, like fuck, I hadn’t noticed that. She’s probably a 32B if I had to guess. I miss Iris’ breasts being adorned with jewelry.

  I am staring with my mouth gaping open at her bright red bush when she asks, “Can I…get in the shower now? Or do you need to see my clit piercing too?”

  “I’m trying to decide if you are a four or a six,” I say, shrugging. “Go! Don’t steam it up.”

  “I’m not a moron,” she counters. “And four if you want to put girly clothes on me that fit.”

  “I’m going to spank your ass,” I warn, glancing at her perfectly curved bottom in the mirror. She bends over, and I get a good look at everything the good Lord gave her. Licking my finger, I pop the brush in my teeth and run the pad over the seam of her ass.

  “Careful, you’ll slip in,” she rebukes as Iris and Sal snicker and lean across the sink for a kiss. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

  “You look incredible,” Iris mutters to Sal as I rub Rowan and slip lower. She eases back, welcoming my finger into her slick folds. I feel her tighten and my cock throbs with an awareness. Let’s be clear, I do not like this girl like that, but her hip rolls are an impeccably delicious feast for my eyes.

  The girl has some fucking ass.

  “Do not ruin my artwork!” I caution Iris. “If you smear his lip line before I’m done, it’ll be godawful.”

  “You gonna spank that ass?” Rowan asks. “Or should I just go play with myself in the shower and pretend you did it?” I smack the fuck out of her rump. “Oooh, baby!”

  Yanking out, I take the brush from my lips and suck my finger clean with a moan. “Tasty!” I sneer. “Yum.”

  “I aim to provide.”

  I smack her ass again for good measure. “Hurry up!”

  “Jeesh, you’re a hard one to please.”

  “You have no idea,” I mutter, grabbing the punchy red lipstick. “Break this make-out session up, you two.”

  “What color am I getting?”

  “This is Berry Bliss,” I inform.

  “Oh!” Iris joyously exclaims. “That one is flavored.”

  Sal and I turn to give her a stare as I sniff the tube. “Yep, berry!”

  “I love wild berries,” Rowan announces, exiting the shower in a towel and standing behind me. “You should extend his wings to play off his brows and maybe drop the pout line some, brother.” She nudges my shoulder and winks before walking off. I stare in shock.

  “You want to do this?”

  “Sure,” she says, dropping the towel. “Pucker up, pretty.”

  “Where did you learn to do this?”

  “… I have a vagina?”

  “Do you ever use it for anything other than being a cunt?” I quip as she drops the perfect dip in his lips and pinks up the eyeliner. “It felt full of cobwebs.”

  “Only if they were saturated in nectar from all that hair!” she taunts, blowing my locks on my shoulder. I blink unamused. Her tiny fingers hold his face still as she sweeps two graceful lines on. “Do we have a brow pencil?”

  “Yeah,” Iris says, digging in the box of war paint. “Here.”

  “Crap!” I remark, getting owned by Rowan’s ability. “You should do your makeup.”

  “Fat chance, hotness,” she prods, looking at me. “While you’ve been busy denying who you are, I claimed my fluidity long ago.”

  “You’re kind of a bitch sometimes.”

  “No,” she replies as Iris and Sal wait with bated breath. “I’m brutally honest.”

  “And who am I?”

  “A raging bisexual alpha male who needs a good match mate.”

  “You don’t think I swing more to the tool?”

  “No,” she declares. “You just haven’t met the right girl to spark enough interest, aside from…” She waves her hand at Iris. “You find most girls boring. You know there are speed limits with Iris, and that gives you security. You’re afraid to hit the gas with the wrong girl.”

  “In fairness,” Sal defends. “He’s done that a c
ouple of times, and it’s bitten him on the ass.”

  “Living in fear,” she states. “Now or never. I’m going to get a bottle of water.”

  “Bring me one,” Iris says. “She’s spot on.”

  “Don’t Iris.”

  She shrugs, tilting her head with a raise of her brows, and ducking her lips. “The right match mate…”

  “I swear to fuck.”

  I finish Sal up, and they go to get dressed as Rowan sits on the counter naked fifteen minutes post-humiliation. “You have beautiful skin.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “You didn’t,” I lie, dropping the brush and picking up the mascara. “Okay, you did. But I’m in a good place and don’t need the questioning.”

  “Iris!” she yells.

  “Yeah?” She rushes into the room in a stunning green and black corset with matching panties and a garter that I don’t recognize. Her thigh highs are on, and her hair is still in the rollers. “What do you need?”

  Sal appears in a pair of tight black pants. “No, go on her leathers?”

  “One nut,” he announces. “One nut.”

  We laugh and turn to see Iris and Rowan lip-locked. “Oh, God…”

  Rowan’s hands slip over her ass as tongues collide, and I lift my hand back to smack Sal in the chest. “Is it just me, or is this unbelievably hot?”

  “It’s not just you,” I admit. “There is something about all that queen in Iris with a…good Irish slut.”

  “We’ve got issues,” Sal says like all the mafia is aiming at us. “Big ones.”

  “Tell me,” I mutter. “We are not four.”

  “Quatre.”

  “… With her?”

  “Better than your sister,” he jokes as I haul off and punch his bicep hard.

  “Too soon, man. Too soon,” I mumble. “You cannot be open to this.”

  “Why not?” he asks. “It seems I don’t have much choice. Iris…” We drool as Iris lowers to between her thighs. “Is she seriously about to…”

  “Holy fucking hell…”

  “You know,” Rowan mutters. “One of you in the peanut gallery could come to get on my tits and take this from good to extraordinary.”