Undeniably His: Bliss Series, Book Five

by Hall, Deanndra

  Now I know what he was so concerned about. “And I assume you and your brothers do the same?”

  “Well, not Brandt―he rejected it immediately when Dad tried to talk to him. And I wasn’t part of the pact either, at least not as long as I was married to my ex. She wouldn’t hear of it. It caused us a lot of problems when we were engaged and then after we married because I kept pushing. I finally just quit.”

  “But did you―”

  “No. Even without sex, she would’ve considered that cheating, so no. Never while we were still together. About six months after we split, while the divorce was still being sorted out, Brock and Blake came to me and asked me to come in. Their logic was that if anyone in the family could take care of their wives and children, it would be me, not only because of my income, but because I was single.”

  “And do you still―”

  He nods. “Yes. It’s not a structured kind of thing, Melina. It’s not like we have it scheduled. We just get together every so often and I’ll ask Kara or Misti if they’d like to go do something the next evening. I love them, but I’m not in love with either of them. They’re beautiful ladies and my brothers love them. Sex isn’t on the table. It’s not about meeting needs. It’s about bonding so they’ll feel comfortable coming to one of the other brothers if they ever need to. Kara and Brock went through a rough patch a year ago when I asked him to come into the business and he wouldn’t. I honestly wanted him to help me, but he thought I was doing it out of pity because he had such a shit job. Kara didn’t hesitate to come to me and talk to me because we know each other intimately. In two weeks, Brock came into the company. I can’t imagine trying to do this without him now, and it’s all because Kara felt comfortable talking to me.” He stops for a few seconds, takes a deep breath, and says, “I need to know your impression of this. How do you feel about it?”

  “Can I have a minute to think about it?”

  He lets out a little chuckle, and for the first time I catch a hint of nervousness. “Sure. I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” I watch him walk away, and I was right―that ass looks great in those jeans.

  But I have to give this some thought. Sharing a man with two other women and being shared with two other men deserves thought. Okay, the second part doesn’t bother me at all. I can handle that, and honestly, it sounds kind of comforting, knowing that I’d always have someone to run to, someone I could talk to with a man’s perspective, someone I was intimately familiar with but not in love with. That’s the kind of relationship I had with Dave before Olivia came along, and the kind I was developing with Brian before he and Cirilla got together. That sounds good.

  Sharing a man with two other women seems a little more daunting. Would I be wondering what he was doing with one of the others? Do they do this at the same time, or would I spend an evening alone? Would it bother me when he came back? Those are things I can’t gauge until I experience them, I suppose.

  “Well?” he asks as he slips into the booth and it startles me a little. I hadn’t even noticed he’d come back.

  “So how do you do this? I mean, when you get together?”

  “It’s just free-form, babe. There’s no structure. But if one of us arranges something, the other two usually take the opportunity to do the same. We cook, or we go to dinner at a restaurant somewhere, or go to some kind of fun thing, like a festival or something. It’s easy, not forced or formal. While one of them is with me, we usually talk about the kids, what they’re doing and what they’re involved in, any problems they’re having in school, any of that. We need to know those things so we can help if we’re needed and we feel connected to them too. And if they’re having any kind of marital problems, we’re there to offer support or advice if we’re asked for it.” It’s all starting to make sense to me. “Is this something you think you could live with? Maybe be involved with?”

  I nod. “Honestly, I think sharing you with someone else would be the hard part. Sharing myself with the other brothers wouldn’t be that hard if they’re anything like you. But I get it, I really do. I can understand it very well, especially since all of you boys are close.”

  “Except for Brandt,” he says and frowns.

  “Yeah. Except for Brandt,” I say with a snort.

  “It’s hard for us to find women who’ll agree to this, believe it or not. I mean, look―I failed before. Brock and Blake were both engaged several times before they found wives who could do it. Most women don’t want to be that close to their husband’s family. They expect him to be close to theirs, but―”

  “I don’t expect you to be close to mine! I don’t even want to be close to mine,” I say and grimace.

  That gets a chuckle from him. “Ooookay. I can see there’s a story there! But first, we’ve got a relationship of our own to forge. Ready?” He stands and reaches for my hand, and I nod and join him.

  By the time we get to the club, it’s hopping. Every performance area is in use, so we head for the locker rooms. I packed a black thong and corset with demi cups and I hope that’s okay with him. Instead of my usual stilettos, I grabbed a pair of black satin ballerina slippers. It takes me a few minutes to dress out and when I step out of the locker room, he’s standing at the bar, talking to Brian. Brian’s head swivels toward me and he smiles, and Boone turns to see what he’s looking at. When he spots me, he crooks a finger at me, beckoning me to come to him, and I head that direction.

  “Good evening, submissive,” Brian says when I reach them.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Let’s go sit down and discuss the rest of the evening. Master Brian, good to see you,” Boone says as he moves to stand beside me and takes my hand.

  “Yes, sir.” I let him lead me to a sofa and he points to sit down, but not before he’s spread a towel out for me to sit on. He has my full attention as soon as he sits down beside me.

  “Tonight you are my submissive. Mine,” he says, and there’s no doubt in my mind by the tone of his voice that he’s ready to defend that position if he has to. “I expect total compliance. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have needs tonight and if so, what are they?”

  “I need a good representation of what you’ll be expecting from me, whatever that is, sir. And you, sir? What do you need from me?”

  “Compliance and a strong constitution. I’m a tender, compassionate, considerate lover, but I’m a forceful, primitive Dominant, and I make no apologies for it.”

  “As well you shouldn’t, sir,” I acknowledge with a nod.

  “This is one of the reasons I was attracted to you, submissive. I knew based on what I saw in orientation that you could separate the two, the gentleman I am and the bastard I become. That’s what I need, a woman who knows and appreciates both.”

  Suddenly, I feel strong and capable. This man needs me. No man has ever needed me before, and there’s something very appealing about that. My voice is trembling when I say, “I am that woman, sir.”

  The smile he gives me is packed with lust and I’m glad I’m sitting or my knees might give way. “Very good. I hope you don’t regret that in a few minutes. Safeword?”

  “Red, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s get at it. We’re using the dark blue performance area.” He stands, takes my hand to help me up, then leads me to the stage. Once there, he points to the floor. “Presentation pose as I instructed last night.” I do exactly what he showed me the night before. “Very good. You learn fast.” As soon as I’m still, he walks around behind me, and I feel him undoing the hooks on my corset. In a couple of minutes, it falls free into my lap, and he steps in front of me, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Nice. I’ve wanted to see those up close ever since orientation.” Then he leans down to my ear. “By the way, I will not be using your ass tonight. We had dinner earlier and I didn’t instruct you to prep, so that will not be an issue.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re welcome.” After rummaging around in
the cabinet at the side for just a few seconds, he comes back with a pair of clover clamps. Instead of putting them on immediately, he squats in front of me and plays with my nipples, tweaking and twisting, and I have this overwhelming urge to squirm, but I don’t. When he’s satisfied they’re as hard as he needs them to be, he places the clamps on them, then snaps a length of chain between them. There’s whispering around us, and I know members have gathered at the edge of the stage to watch. He’s one of the new kids on the block. They want to see how this is going to go. It will largely determine whether he’ll be on the fringe of the community or be treated like one of them. “Up,” he says and reaches for my hands.

  As soon as I’m on my feet, he leads me to the St. Andrew’s cross on the other side of the room. When we reach it, he points to the foot rests. “Put your hands on those. Solidly.” As soon as they’re there and in place, he says, “You’re fit enough to handle this. Don’t doubt yourself. Instead, please your Dom. Here we go.” And I get the shock of my life.

  Quick as a flash, he grabs both my ankles and lifts them up and out, then continues to press them upward, and I realize I’m going to be upside down on this cross. Before I can process everything, he’s buckled a band around my waist and is moving to cuff my ankles to the cross. When he’s finished with that, he fastens cuffs on my wrists and binds those to the cross as well. It’s up to me to stay up. I don’t know what will happen if my arms give way. Can I fall? Will I fall? Will the bindings hold me and keep me from falling on my head? I have no idea, and I really don’t want to find out.

  I know he’s digging around in the cabinet for something else, but I’m in no position to look―literally. “Submissive?”

  “Yes, sir,” I wheeze out. That’s all I can manage. It’s really hard to breathe upside down and I never knew that before.

  “If you start to feel your arms giving out or like you’re going to lose consciousness, yell your safeword. Loudly. I’ll be watching you, but I don’t want you to go farther than you can. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Three times. Prepare yourself.” I have no idea what I’m preparing myself for until I hear him switch it on.

  The vibrator lands firmly on my clit and I try to scream, but I can’t. It’s too hard to breathe. I’m not sure what to concentrate on, coming or staying upright. It’s maddening, and all I can see are his shins, so there’s no eye contact. My arms are shaking but so far, I’m managing. I don’t even realize that I’m whispering, “Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.”

  “Submissive! Color!”

  “Green, sir,” I call out as loudly as I can.

  “Very good. First time―come for me.” My brain is shrieking, No! when my body turns loose.

  I can’t scream. I can’t draw in enough breath. All I can do is endure and pray it ends soon. That orgasm barely leaves me before he turns up the intensity of the vibrator. “Submissive, let’s do this. Come a second time for me.” I’m trying, but I’m so overwhelmed with trying to stay upright that I can’t concentrate. “Submissive, come for me.” I still can’t do it. That’s when he reaches down and yanks that chain on the nipple clamps.

  I see stars and my belly spasms. This is torture, pure and simple, and I’m trying to scream but nothing’s coming out because I can’t get enough breath to make a sound. Now I’m starting to get scared. When this orgasm passes, I find myself hoping he’ll stop, but he doesn’t. He turns up the intensity of the vibrator once more and I’m terrified of what will happen. It gets very quiet around us and I know everyone is watching. I don’t think I can take this, and I don’t want to disappoint my Dom. Not this one. Never. “Submissive, come for me. One last time. You can do this.” He yanks the chain, but nothing happens because, honestly, I’m so stressed I barely feel it. “Submissive, color.”

  “Yellow, sir.”

  “Let’s do this. Come for me.” I’m almost ready to yell my safeword when I feel something that’s a game changer.

  His teeth sink into the inside of my thigh―I can’t even tell which thigh―and something snakes through my body like a tidal wave. I finally manage to suck enough air into my lungs to scream when the orgasm takes me. It’s terrifying and satisfying and I can’t stop screaming.

  There’s a flurry of activity around me and next thing I know, I’m bent over his shoulder, caveman-style, and we’re moving. There’s a sound of a door slamming and I can’t make sense of anything.

  And then I sink into a bed. Oh, god, it feels good. My arms are still shaking and I think I’m crying, but I’m not sure. Something warm presses against my cheek and I can hear a voice calling my name. A sound like a million cicadas fills my head for a full minute and then I hear the voice again: “Melina, come on back.”

  “I’m, uh …” I can’t think.

  “Melina, open your eyes, babe. Come on.” A chill sweeps over me and I shiver all over. “Melina, open your eyes. Right now.” It’s a struggle but I get them open just a crack. “That’s it, baby. Look at me.” A pair of deep hazel eyes are staring straight into mine and a feeling of total bliss fills me. “There you are! Hey! Feel okay?”

  The first words out of my mouth are, “I’m cold.”

  “I can fix that. First, here.” Something cold touches my lips and I jump just a little. “Nothing but a little caffeine. That’ll help.” I take a couple of sips but I’m so tired that I can’t take any more. My eyes close again and there’s some movement near me before I feel the warmth of Boone’s body against mine.

  I’ve died and gone to heaven. I’m sure of it. His arms wrap around me as he spoons me and I snuggle back into him, trying to remember the last time I was held like this by a man. That would’ve been Dave, in aftercare, not like this, not something so personal. Not by someone who says they want a relationship with me. That’s new. It’s different. I don’t think to restrain myself and just groan with the pleasure of it. “Feels nice, huh?” he asks.

  “Yes. It does. Your arms are strong,” I whisper to him as I grind back against him, trying to get closer, trying to press myself inside him and be part of him.

  “And you’re soft. I could stay here all night like this,” he whispers back to me.

  “Mmm-hmmmm.” His breath tickles the back of my ear and makes me smile. I know it’s a bad time to ask, but I have to. “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “Were you pleased with me?”

  “Look at me,” he orders, and I roll to face him. A smile stretches across his face. “Does this answer your question?”

  I’ve never been kissed like this in my life. My arms rise and wrap around his neck, and he rolls me until he’s lying on top of me, our lips locked and his tongue finding mine. I wish I could bottle this kiss and keep it for when he’s not with me. God, that would be awesome. Regardless how long it goes on, it won’t be long enough. It’s almost like we’re breathing in and out of each other, almost like our souls are connecting somehow. When his lips leave mine, I want to cry out and beg for another kiss. But he looks down into my face, strokes my cheek, and calmly says, “Melina, I want to make love with you. Do you want me?”

  My eyes close and I let out a long hiss of a sigh. “Yessssss,” I hear myself groan as he moves back into me and presses his lips to mine again. Every inch of my body is tingling. Every fiber of my being is warm and vibrating. I can’t speak or breathe. All I can do is need, his touch, his body, his lips, that warm skin and those beautiful hazel eyes. I want to disappear into him and never come back. I can feel his hardness against me and I’m totally at his mercy. For the first time in forever, that idea doesn’t depress me. It makes me feel even more alive.

  My eyes are slitted as he rises above me on his knees and for the first time, I see his cock. It’s not the biggest I’ve ever seen, but it’s beautiful. When he presses my legs up toward my chest, he smiles down at me. “Need to come before I take you?”

  “I’ll take care of that.” It won’t take me long. Watching him moving in and out of me wil
l send me over the edge, of that I’m sure. I lick my finger and run it around my right nipple, but he’s already gotten hold of my left nipple and is tweaking it like crazy. I trail my finger over his hand, then down my tummy and straight to my slit. The words slip from my lips like a prayer: “Please, Boone? Please?”

  Whole. That’s how I feel when his hardness glides inside me, stretching me, boring into me, and I’ve never wanted a man more than I want this man in this moment. My finger is insistent, and his shaft is even more so. I can feel myself readying with every stroke, every sigh, every gasp, and it’s music to my ears when he says, “God, babe, you’re so fucking beautiful. This, oh, god. This is what I’ve wanted ever since I laid eyes on you the very first time.”

  I feel gooseflesh break out all over me and colors explode behind my eyelids, my finger working feverishly and a groan escaping my throat. I can’t stop stroking myself, and he’s pounding into me, grunting with the effort. There’s a second orgasm coming and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me when it takes me. And then it does.