Three-Part Harmony

by Angel Payne

  She tilted her head. “Hmmm. Not a bad opener.”

  “Shut up and come eat your cheese.”

  Shock eclipsed her lust for a second. “Cheese? I don’t ever get to have cheese!”

  “I can have them come take it away.” His shrug was a maddening combo of commanding and adorable. “I’m sure somebody in the hotel will love a taste of stuff that’s been sitting in a French cave for fifty years…”

  “Don’t. You. Dare.”

  His chuckle was deep, magical music. It assured her that even though they’d come so far together tonight, they were still them, circling back to the home of their sarcasm and banter. The feeling followed Dasha into her dreams that night…at least for a few hours. At precisely twelve minutes after three, a different version of David roused her from that slumber. She knew this because, at two minutes after four, that same David still assaulted her mind. He smiled at her from the realms of memory, that devious, mysterious smile that thickened into adoration as he bound her wrists and caressed her body. Then the smile melted away as he claimed her…conquered her by breaking her down completely, before he lifted her back up on wings of desire and ecstasy. She remembered his fingers, warm and demanding, spread across her bare pussy. And oh yes, his body, preparing to enter her there, hard and fast. Yet he waited, not letting her have him until the piercing hit her breast…

  She ran a tentative finger over that little diamond P. The loop of the letter was filled by her sore, tender nipple. Her flesh throbbed even more as she touched it. She clenched her teeth and rolled to her side, away from David, but continuing to rub. David had given her more directions about caring for the piercings. No touching or playing for a month. But the pain…

  The pain was one of the most exhilarating things she’d ever felt.

  It arrested her. Called to her. Reminded her of the path she’d taken to earn his jewelry…of how it had felt to please him so completely…

  In the silence of the bedroom, interrupted only by David’s steady slumber, she heard her heart racing, even her blood pulsing, to catch up with her coursing adrenaline.

  “Well, well, well. Look who has found himself a brave little girl.”

  She grimaced. The words had taunted and made her furious at the time, but David’s rough growl of agreement had transformed them to intimate praise, making her feel as precious as the diamonds embedded in her skin. Her core had gone white-hot, wanting him more than she’d ever craved a man.

  It’s four in the morning. You’re not coherent. Count sheep and get back to sleep!

  She took a deep breath. It only succeeded in sending a fresh surge of blood to the crevice between her thighs. Hot, heavy, totally turned-on blood.

  She slid tentative fingers down her body. Her pussy seeped in happy greeting to her touch. With her other hand, she gave an experimental pinch to the flesh beneath her piercing. It surged with pain, and she bit her lip. Two seconds later, her pussy trickled again. Her juices seeped over her fingers. Her clit pulsed and expanded too, begging her for more. Yes…more.

  David grunted and shifted in his slumber. Dasha looked over at him, her new lover…her incredible Dom. He’d passed out the second his head hit the pillow. He’d worked hard to make that event happen in the spa, she had no doubt of it, on top of his regular juggling act in handling the daily demands of her career. She didn’t have the heart or guts to wake him up just to refuel her fresh-forged rocket ship of a libido.

  She slipped back the covers as gently as she could, then eased from the bed. David didn’t stir, and she breathed easier as she padded to the bathroom. Though it would be more comfortable to get herself off on the lounger in the suite’s next room, David would be likely to go back to sleep if he did wake up, figuring she was taking a bathroom break.

  She lay down right on the bathroom’s marble floor, welcoming the shock of chilled marble against her naked body. The stone gave her skin no mercy, like she’d been thrown on a slab by a strict master. In her mind, that master morphed into David. She slid her eyes shut, tracing her fingers around his initials in her flesh again as the fantasy took over.

  Very good, her master praised, standing bare-chested over her. Yes. Touch those letters and think of my name as you do. The name of the man who possesses you… He braced his hands on his hips, which were sheathed in the same black leather pants from their time in the spa. Her mind eagerly created the same fierce bulge at their fly. Spread your legs wide, he repeated, and let me look at your pretty cunt.

  Slowly, Dasha opened her legs. She slipped her fingers down, into the damp petals at her core, and started rubbing herself. The tangy scent of her arousal filled the air. Her fingers felt so good against the wet nerves, which came alive with her strokes.

  A small cry erupted before she could help it. She winced, battling to hold back a sob. She was so wet, so ready, so needing the climax she could practically taste. Damn, damn, she wanted it to last longer! Though she longed to fill out the scene in her head, she was quite certain if Dream-David uttered one more thing, she’d—

  “Dasha?”

  Her eyes flared open. She sat up with a jolt and clutched her knees to her chest. The action bumped both her piercings. She hissed in pain, weirdly grateful for the distraction. It was something to focus on other than the very real David, who opened the bathroom door all the way. And, damn him, looking even more gorgeous even in his stubble-jawed, messy-haired, half sleep.

  “What are you doing?” he mumbled.

  “I—I uh—”

  “Answer me.” So much for the mumble. His demand drilled like a crucifixion nail.

  Her response was a pathetic gargle. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Are you saying that to your toes or to me? Look at me.”

  She bowed her head, unable to obey. Because he was naked too. Magnificently so. His erection started jerking to life the second he’d walked in on her, and it was likely more incredible now. If she looked up, she knew where her eyes would go, and he’d know exactly what she was thinking. Worse, he’d know exactly how much she hadn’t been able to control her stupid urges, even after he’d given her the orgasm-to-end-all-orgasms earlier.

  “I just…didn’t want to bother you,” she repeated. Dumb. Ass. Dumb. Ass.

  “Bother me with what?” But his tone already began to shade with the answer to that. The answer he’d already surmised. “D,” he commanded—D, not Dasha—as he took a step closer. “Stand up.”

  When she complied, he captured her chin with his fingers. His gaze overtook her with its thunder-dark scrutiny. His lips barely moved as he asked, “What’s the most important thing I require of you?”

  “C-complete honesty.”

  “Then give it to me.” His features didn’t flinch. “What were you doing in here?”

  She wanted to heed him. God, she needed to; he’d earned that and more. But shame filled her throat with nothing but parched air. She gulped, riveting her gaze on the wall. “David—I was afraid—”

  “Of bothering me. We’ve had that recap already. Afraid of bothering me about what?”

  “You were so tired,” she protested. “You were sleeping so peacefully. So when I woke up and started—well—”

  “Playing with your piercing.” His voice was brutal as the thumb he pushed into the same breasts she’d been stroking, lifting her nipples for his inspection. “If I ran fingerprint dust on this, you’d be guilty as hell, sweetheart. Don’t really need to, though. The skin irritation says it all.” A long moment passed as he raked the rest of her body with his stare, giving her no mercy with the scrutiny. Dasha shivered. His glare hit her like knives.

  “Yes…Sir,” she finally said in a rasp. Maybe he’d recognize the effort it took to at least do that.

  No such luck.

  “So, against my instructions,” he continued, “you woke up and started stroking new piercings.” He let out a long breath. “I’m guessing that led you to stroke other things too.” He finished that by dipping two fingers int
o the apex of her thighs. Dasha gasped as he shoved two fingers up inside her. “Yep. Soaking wet.” His voice dipped too, descending to harsh disapproval. “Like I expected.”

  She bit her lip, unable to feel even a burst of arousal at his touch. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I feel like—”

  “What?” he inserted into her self-interruption.

  She gazed at him, confused by the words that came. “Like…I’ve let you down. But about more than the piercing. That’s weird…right?”

  “No.” There wasn’t a beat of hesitation to it. His hands braced her hips, those strong, long fingers locking her in place in front of him. “You feel that way because we opened a huge door in our relationship last night. We shared ourselves in a real, raw, and open way. But then you felt the need, however well-intentioned, to pleasure yourself without me getting to control the fun.”

  New feelings flooded her. Frustration. Confusion. A little fury. “Without you getting to—what the h—”

  Smack.

  He brought his hand down on her right ass cheek, a firecracker of sound in the bathroom, jolting her to attention.

  “Before you say something you’re going to regret,” he said, “let me enlighten you about a key part of this new commitment to which you’ve agreed.” He’d kept his hand on her bottom and now brought his other hand around, doubling that possessive hold. “You’re my submissive. That means everything about your sexual experiences, good and bad, painful and pleasurable, completely and totally, is mine.” He tightened his grip.

  If they weren’t standing inches apart, his cock now pressing against her stomach, Dasha would’ve laughed. “You’re kidding me, right?” But his stare said he wasn’t. And now she remembered the first conversation they’d had about his preferences, about how he’d denied Lilly her orgasms for hours. “So…what… I need you to sign a permission slip now or something?”

  The slight tilt of his head didn’t ease the thuds starting in her stomach.

  “A signature won’t be necessary.”

  “But your consent is?”

  He didn’t move, which served as a resounding confirmation. Her mind fought that truth, though a forbidden little thrill trumped it. She’d have to consult with him…about when she orgasmed? “That’s—that’s just—”

  “Going to need a touch of enforcement.” David’s face hardened into commanding angles again. “That much is clear. Yet a perfect dovetail into the discipline I’ve got to give you for slathering your dirty fingers across new piercings, darling.”

  She shot him a glare. She longed to give him the perfect follow-up too, by slapping his arrogant jaw, then getting the hell out of here. But everything about him tethered her. The hard dominion in his voice. The harder control in his eyes. Dasha openly admitted her fixation with both… God help her, perhaps her bizarre need for both. With days that demanded a constant stream of decisions and strength from her, relinquishing herself to David felt like…

  Freedom.

  She dropped her glare into a frown as the thought hit her. But the only words that came were just as inane. “I’m not dirty,” she snapped and jerked as he shifted his hold to her arms.

  “Dirty isn’t always bad,” he countered softly. That tugged her gaze back up, curious about the look he accompanied it with. But she found his eyes fixed to something behind her. With a lot of interest. “But the theme does give us a perfect place to start.”

  “Start…what?” She flung the retort as he stepped around her, threw open the glass shower door, and pulled the nozzle on.

  “Get in.”

  The order wasn’t negotiable—but he didn’t compel her physically. He just stood at the stall door, looking like a Greek god incarnate against the marble-lined bathroom, his body honed and perfect, his sex half flexed, his stare as potent as that of Zeus. Against all the pride still left in her body, Dasha complied—for exactly two steps. She stopped as soon as the spray hit her.

  “It’s freezing!”

  “All the better to extinguish that fire in your pussy.” He arched a brow at her new gawk. “It’ll be hot again, don’t worry, but it’ll be me that gets you that way.” He dipped a nod at the stall again. “I gave you an instruction, sweetheart.”

  His tone changed with that, deepening as if he accessed a secret well of wickedness inside. A well she’d started to recognize as the sole property of “Domination David.” From the moment he’d first used it on her, it always sent a thrill of anticipation through her…until now. Dasha flung a huff at it now and folded her arms. “No!”

  “Are you refusing a direct order of your Sir?”

  “It’s a ridiculous order.”

  He looked like she’d simply told him the day’s weather. “Get in,” he repeated, “or get out. Your choice. I’m not going to bodily force you; however, your trust of me has to extend to disciplinary actions too.”

  Her arms dropped, weighted by disbelief. “Now you’re really kidding.”

  “Now I’m really not.”

  “But—”

  “That isn’t a word you’re allowed right now. It’s either ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘Good night, Sir.’” His brows rose. “I’m running out of patience. Get in the shower, darling, or throw on a robe and go back to your own room.”

  The urge to slap him burned worse than ever. The fear of doing it wrestled right back. She really didn’t want to do this.

  But the thought of having to leave him was a worse alternative.

  Especially because she only had to glance down to see how much his body clearly wanted hers again. He grew harder before her eyes, a sensual promise she couldn’t resist. And beyond that…damn it, she’d asked for this. When he’d offered the invitation to dive deeper into the D/s rabbit hole, she’d freely accepted. And she did want to go further, into that place of discovering more of the new creature inside herself, a comet of pure sensation, a nova of complete surrender…even if getting there meant subjecting herself to a Neptune-worthy ice shower.

  She glared once more, if only to save face, though she didn’t have the guts to lift her gaze all the way to his face. Then she got in under the freezing spray.

  “Ssshhhhiiiit!”

  “Lovely,” he stated. “But the commentary isn’t necessary. You’re there to wash clean. Get busy, baby. Soap and water everywhere. But be careful around your piercings.”

  The faster she did just that, the faster she’d be free from the torture. Dasha scrubbed herself with frenzied speed between chilled breaths. She tried to shove the discomfort from her mind, focusing instead on the lean, dark beauty of the man watching every inch of her movements. She didn’t miss the way David’s mouth parted now, as if craving to take a nibble on her, or the newer jerks in his cock as that strained for her too. Looking at him spurred her to just get the hell done, and re-earn a place in his arms.

  “Done.” She whooshed it with relief while reaching for the door handle.

  And got pushed back from the other side.

  “You’re clean,” David asserted, his hand still shoved on the glass, “but you’re not done. That happens when I tell you.”

  Frustration sluiced colder than the water. But Dasha muttered, “Yes, Sir.” She let him hear every note of her misery. She thought she heard a pleased growl in return, but his next command was rock steady.

  “I’m going to prepare the next phase of your punishment. It won’t take long. I’ll get you out when I return.”

  “Goody.” She grumbled it as he rounded the corner into the bedroom. But her mind whirled. Next phase? Prepare? God, what could his devious mind be concocting next? Despite that mental roller coaster, flashes of sanity returned. What the hell was she doing here? Why the hell was she subjecting herself to this? She’d auditioned for assholes, undressed for crazy costumers, and sung for millions. There was no good reason to be standing here like an ice sculpture at a record-exec soiree, feeling foolish and nervous and—

  More aroused than you’ve been in a very, very long time.

>   Before she could generate a proper rebuttal for that, David reappeared. A smile ghosted his lips as he gazed at her from head to toe, though she couldn’t fathom why. She caught a brief glance of herself in the vanity mirror: huddled, shivering, soaked, pathetic.

  “Perfect.” His drawl seemed to taunt those miserable thoughts. “All right, go ahead and get out. But no drying off, so be careful walking on the tile.”

  She was so grateful for the reprieve from the water, she didn’t care about the ban on the towel—until she followed him back into the bedroom, and the blast of air that almost made her look around for a penguin or two. Part of the bastard’s “preparations” had included dropping the temp by at least ten degrees. Her nipples squeezed into tighter pinpoints—a sight not lost on the man who now turned on her, arms crossed, eyes twin lightning bolts. “How do those piercings feel now?” he asked.

  Fuck you. “They hurt like hell, Sir.”

  His chuckle dug in like a spur. Had she thought that sound magical just a few hours ago? “Good girl. That’s honest and a real turn-on.” He reached back, pulling the room’s spare blanket off the bed, then spreading it wide. “Come here.”

  So maybe she’d forgive him for the laugh. Maybe, she emphasized silently, scurrying to him in two fast hops that made him hesitate a second while he watched what that motion did to her breasts. She glared, but he smiled like she hadn’t, enfolding her against him, wrapping her completely. Before she could help it, her glower dissolved into a blissful moan. The broad plane of his chest supported her head; his arms were a solid circle around her. Best of all, they both came cushioned by the luxurious Sferra fabric, making her feel like a soaked nymph who’d finally gotten into a down-lined burrow. Correction: a burrow with a Master who welcomed her with warmth, shrouded her in strength, then sought her mouth to dominate it with the thorough press of his.

  For once, not a single coherent word came to mind. She loved the chance to sigh her thanks to him, wiggling to get even closer. Hmmm. If this was what Domination David described as “punishment,” she’d make plans to pull the sassy act on him more often.