“So you're honestly going to telling me what I saw was merely platonic? That you weren't trying to climb him…” The contemptuous gesture toward Hark and the acid in Easton’s tone was obvious. “…like a damned tree?”
Hark growled in his throat. He knew he should let Bryan handle this, but his now awakened Dom wasn't having it – especially when Bryan’s cheeks flushed. There was no reason for the other man to embarrass or put Bryan on the spot. Especially when all he’d done earlier was hold Bryan while he pulled himself together. It wasn’t like Easton walked in to find Bryan sucking his cock. Surging from the chair, Hark was just about to stomp over and throw the man out, when Bryan spotted his approach and held up a hand.
“Look, it doesn’t matter what you think at this point. It's time for you to leave, Easton. You have meetings and the last thing I need right now with Sharonda in the hospital is to be accused of being unfaithful by a man I considered my friend. Nor do I want to explain to my master why Hark felt the need to kick my vice-president's ass.”
“Fine.” Easton surged to his feet. “I hope you know what the hell you’re doing and Diachi is more understanding than I can imagine.” Snatching up his briefcase and his coffee, he stormed out of the office.
Bryan rubbed the back of this neck, keeping his head down as Hark moved closer. His cheeks grew brighter. Hark couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a grown man blush. It was…charming and touched a part of him, he’d hoped was dead and buried.
Without looking up, Bryan apologized. “Sorry about that. We didn’t do anything wrong. Master gave me to you.” He fumbled with the pencil on his blotter. “I honestly don't know what came over Easton. It's probably a combination of the pressure to bring Wheaton Free online and the accusations by certain members on the board that he's responsible for the ongoing sabotage that’s put him on edge. Made him more suspicious than normal.”
Hark circled the desk to place his hands on Bryan's shoulders. Squeezing the tense muscles, he began a steady kneading motion, hoping to relax other man. “Shh. Don't worry about it. The only reason I rose to the bait was because I saw how it was upsetting you.” He placed his thumbs on either side of Bryan's spine and pressed firmly to ease the knot.
“Still, we've been friends for years. It’s hard to believe he'd ever think that...”
He tipped his head down, until his lips were less than a breath's width away from Bryan's ear. “Enough.” He injected just enough steel into his voice to make him still. “It doesn't matter. I could care less about what he thinks of me, because when this is all said and done, I'll never have to see him again.” He lightly nipped Bryan's ear with his teeth. Bryan's sharp inhalation made him smile. “But for now, you need to relax before I find another way to calm you down. You're strung up so tight I'm surprised you haven't snapped.”
“I...”
He stopped Bryan's protest by placing his teeth over the taut tendon running from the man's neck to his shoulder. A low moan passed Bryan's lips, and the muscle flexed under Hark's lips. Which only made Hark want to push harder — explore further — until he knew Bryan as well as Diachi did. “The next lie will find you over your desk, bare-assed with my hand paddling your firm bottom. Do you really want to chance it?”
Bryan shook his head and let his head fall forward until his chin touched his chest. Taking advantage of the truly submissive pose, Hark trailed a finger down the long exposed column. And couldn't help but smile in satisfaction when gooseflesh seemed to follow his touch.
“Very nice.” Hark whispered. “Now, I'm going to give you a short massage to relax you before your uncle shows up for your morning meeting.”
Bryan nodded slowly, his head barely moving.
“Good boy.” Reluctantly Hark pulled back before he was tempted to do more than rub down the wide expanse of Bryan's shoulders. It took some effort, but he managed to distance himself enough to navigate the steps of the intensely thorough deep tissue massage he'd learned from his grandfather. And while he worked, he subtly dragged answers about the older Sterling out of Bryan. It paid to be forewarned.
* * * *
Damn, the man had magic in his fingers, Bryan thought a few hours later. Usually by this time of the day he'd be knotted up something fierce and as a result would have to do at least an hour of yoga once he got home to release the tension in his neck. Twirling a pencil between his fingers, Bryan observed his bodyguard. Sitting comfortably with one leg crossed over the opposite knee, Hark played on the slim smart phone. What he was looking at, Bryan wasn’t sure. It could’ve been porn or even something mundane as Facebook, but for some reason, he thought Hark might be investigating Sharonda’s attack from the comforts of Bryan’s office.
The idea was comforting. Too bad it did little to ease the edginess that had returned full force while dealing with his uncle. Even after Corbin had stomped into his office and tried to order him to give up the Wheaton Free line before someone ended up getting killed, he’d clung to his patience. But the meeting had gone downhill from there as he was forced to not only defend his decision to continue the line, but assure him that they'd eventually figure out who was out to injure the Sterling brand. Of course that had set his uncle off, and he had stormed out of Bryan's office swearing his nephew would look back and regret this day.
Dramatic asshole he is.
Bryan tightened his fingers around the pencil he'd been using to scribe notes in the margin of the report in front of him. It snapped when the phone rang on the corner of his desk.
“Son of a bitch.”
Tossing the pieces away, he suddenly wished he could either do a few rounds with his master or perhaps spend some time bound to the St. Andrew’s Cross in their playroom. He needed an outlet in the worst way, to the point he contemplated acting out, so Hark would take him to task. The idea of the same broad hand that cradled his prized Tetsubin teacups landing blow after blow on his ass sent more than a tingle through him. His master had been correct as usual. Hark was like the flame to his moth. But instead of losing himself to the euphoria of sub-space, he was stuck in his office with no assistant, an unsolved case of sabotage, and a personal assault.
Jerking the phone off the cradle, he barked into the ear piece. “Sterling.”
“You sound tense, Hana. Do you need me?” His master’s voice washed over Bryan. The pressure that had been building inside of him eased down to more manageable levels.
“Always, Master.” Bryan’s eyes drifted shut. Peace tugged at him. It was always like this.
“While that’s a good thing, you didn’t answer me. What level are you at, Bryan?”
In the background, Bryan could hear voices – Japanese ones. Obviously his master was in another one of his numerous teleconferences. He could manage until he got home. His stress level wasn’t high enough to pull Diachi out of work. He’d do what he always did. Take a few deep breaths and fib. But when he opened his eyes, Hark was less than a foot from him, crouched down on his haunches so they were at eye level to one another. The look on his face dared Bryan to lie.
He swallowed hard, but told the truth. “Yellow...”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, which caused Bryan to panic. Teleconferences spanning across the globe were notoriously difficult to arrange and expensive. He refused to pull his master away just because his tension and pressure were building. It had been a lot worse in the past and he’d handled it. “But you don’t need to come down here, Master. I’ll be okay —”
“I’ll be the judge of what you’ll be, sub,” Diahci cut him off. “Which do you need? Bondage or pain?” The last part was whispered softly, but each word caressed Bryan’s inner-most thoughts, like the kiss of a flogger.
Bryan tried not to pant, but the tension was rising again. Building to unbearable levels. His gaze never left Hark’s as he finally answered. “Both, Master.”
“Do you trust me?”
Bryan nodded, then remembered Diachi couldn’t see him. “Of course, Master.”
There was a soft sigh. “Then you shall give yourself to Hark. Remember he’s your Sir. Let him care for you when I cannot.”
A warm buzz hummed through Bryan’s veins. He had his Master’s blessings. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. We’ll talk about this when you return home.” There was another pause while more mumbles of Japanese filled the air. “And I expect there to be a smile on your face, sub. There will be no topping from the bottom.”
“Yes, Master.” He clenched his fist around the receiver.
“Now, let me talk to your Sir.”
Bryan bit his lip before holding the phone out with a trembling hand. Hark glanced down at it – breaking eye contact with him for the first time since he’d answered the phone. “He wants to talk to you, Sir.”
Hark’s nostrils flared, before he gave a curt nod. Lifting it to his ear, he spoke softly. “Diachi?”
There was a silence on his Sir’s part before he glanced back down at Bryan. “Of course. I’ll see to it.” His hand tightened until the knuckles whitened. “I already told you that wouldn’t be an issue…”
The sharp retort was muffled, but even Bryan could hear the displeasure in it. He winced. Getting on Master’s bad side was never a good thing.
“Listen, you controlling bastard, I’ll do what’s right for Bryan, but nothing more. Quit. Fucking. Pushing. Me.”
Bryan couldn’t help but stare in awe at Hark. No man ever talked to Diachi that way. Especially a man who intimately knew what it was like to be under his master’s control. Then there was another bark – to which Hark actually laughed.
“I’d ask if you kissed your mother with that mouth, but it’d be speaking ill of the dead.” Hark squeezed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “Go back to your teleconference, Diachi, I’ll deal with him.”
Bryan’s mind raced at the possibilities of how Hark would deal with him. Would he pull Bryan’s pants down, and bend him over his knee as he’d threatened? Or would Hark make him stand at the wet bar, his hands tied behind his back while he beat Bryan’s ass with a damp towel? His cock stirred at the idea.
The sound of the receiver returning to the telephone cradle shook him out of his musings, only to see Hark move across the room to the door. Panic tried to surface at the idea of Sir leaving, but he fought it down. He wouldn’t beg…at least not yet.
The sound of the lock being flipped seemed abnormally loud. But not as forceful as the dominance spilling off Hark. Then Hark unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and began to roll them up, exposing his tanned forearms.
“Your master tells me your safeword is crimson?” Hark’s gray eyes watched him like a hawk.
“Yes, Sir.” Bryan rubbed his damp palms over his thighs.
“Good. I expect you to use it if need be.” Hark’s hand went to the thick leather belt at his waist. As his Sir unbuckled the heavy silver clasp, Bryan’s system flooded with endorphins. Oh, yes, his Sir would take care of him.
Chapter Eleven
“Use him, Hark. Warm his ass, then remind him he's useful — even if it means sticking your cock down his throat.” Diachi’s words sizzled in his ears.
Keeping his eyes on Bryan, Hark pulled his belt free of his pants and tried to forget Diachi's advice. He would warm up Bryan's ass, but he wouldn't cross the line into the sexual realm — no matter how much Diachi assured him it would okay.
Or how much my dick would enjoy it.
He forced the thought from his brain. This was for Bryan – Diachi’s submissive. He was a stand-in at best. But that didn’t stop the small spurt of pleasure racing through Hark when the other man kept his gaze focused on the thick leather between his hands. He was immediately thankful his intuition had been right. Bryan was either a bit of a leather whore or a pain slut. His sudden inhale as he folded the belt in half and snapped it, attested to that fact.
Bryan whimpered.
Or perhaps a bit of both.
Even before he'd gotten on the phone with his former master, Hark had recognized the restlessness eating at Bryan. But he'd hoped the massage he'd given Bryan earlier would ease him enough that Bryan wouldn't require such ‘a hands on’ approach. But after his brief conversation with Diachi, he realized he no longer had an option. Bryan needed respite from the overload of thoughts plaguing his mind.
And a good spanking would do it.
“Do you want this?” Hark kept his tone firm, but low.
Bryan nodded.
“That's not an appropriate answer, sub.”
“Yes...Sir.” Bryan's hands clenched on his thighs.
“Good. Stand.” He waited as Bryan scrambled out of his chair. But when he moved to round the desk, Hark barked at him to stop. “No. I want you right there.”
Bryan swallowed hard. “You do, Sir?”
A slow smile escaped Hark. “Oh, yes.” He tapped the folded belt against his thigh, loving how Bryan's gaze kept straying to the hand holding what would soon be an implement of torture. Hark let the indifferent facade he'd been wearing most of the day drop. “Drop trou.”
At first he thought Bryan might ignore the command, but then a barely there moan passed his parted lips while his hands fumbled with the snakeskin belt at his waist. The buckle jingled as Bryan fumbled with the closure of his slacks. Seconds later the material parted, sliding downward before pooling at the man’s feet.
Hark hungrily took in the long expanse of legs sticking out from under the hem of the other man's dress shirt. His cock hardened in a rush when he realized Bryan had been bare under his pants. “Damn. And here I’d been wondering if you were a boxers or brief man.”
A red flush filled Bryan's cheeks. Then he looked away. “Master's rules, Sir.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to thank your Master when we return to your home.” Rounding the corner of the desk, he dropped his belt where it would be easy to reach, then stopped within inches of Bryan. “But first we have a little matter of relaxing you before we can close up for the day.” He placed a palm on Bryan’s shoulder. “And to do that you're going to have to trust me.” Hark moved even closer — until they were only an inch apart. “Because while my ways are different than Diachi's, I promise you, the results will remain the same.”
A squeak escaped Bryan.
Catching the end of Bryan's tie, he loosened the knot until he was able to pull the fabric free. The silk would work just fine for what he had planned. He set it next to his belt. “Just remember you trust me, but if at any time you need to stop, you shall use your safeword. Are we understood?”
Bryan nodded, then answered with a soft “Yes, Sir.”
Moving his hand to the small of Bryan's back, Hark urged him forward. “Over the desk, little one.”
Bryan shuffled forward, his ankles trapped by his trousers. Forbidden pleasure burst through Hark as Bryan willingly bent over his desk. “Have you ever done anything like this in your office before?”
Bryan shook his head. “No, Sir. Master keeps our play at home or the club.”
Hark wasn't surprised. Diachi had never been a huge exhibitionist in the past when it came to their sceneing or lovemaking. Which is why he'd never expected to see him at Olivia's demonstrating. “Of course not.” Allowing his fingers to tease the base of Bryan’s spine, he continued. “But unlike your master, you'll find I'm more than willing to push the boundaries of propriety.” Drawing his hand back, he lightly swatted at Bryan's ass. He mourned the fact that the shirttails dulled the impact. “Your master said, by your own admission, you need both pain and bondage to be centered once more...” He drew his nails over the fabric, loving the way Bryan arched his back for more.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Explain.” Hark had to be sure his idea of pain was the same as Bryan's. While he liked to be played with hard, when he was in control, he savored a softer but still firm touch. Just another reason why Teresina had been a perfect submissive for him.
With his face turned away from Hark, Bryan sighed, drawing
Hark’s attention. “The bonds always feel great. They calm me as nothing can — not even hours of yoga. But the pain....I need it...because I feel guilty. Sharonda got hurt in my building — in my office — where she should've been safe.”
Hark mulled over the words. “You had every security measure in place, Bryan. Why would you feel guilty? It wasn't your fault she was attacked. It's the sick fuck who chose to hurt an unarmed woman who’s to blame.”
“Yes, I know.” Bryan turned his head to look at Hark. “But it still doesn't lessen my guilt.” His eyes closed once before opening again. “Logically I know you're right. But here...” His finger tapped his temple. “...the guilt won't go away until I've paid for my part in her accident. It's not logical nor probably entirely sane.” A grimace twisted his features. “Mom always said I was too sensitive for my own good. She's probably right too.”
Hark ran his palm down Bryan's spine. “There’s nothing wrong with being sensitive. It keeps you from hurting others. However, if you don't let go of the guilt, it’ll eat you alive.”
Bryan's teeth appeared as he nibbled at his lower lip. “Yeah. It’s why I need the pain. It takes the guilt away.”
Understanding flared to life inside of Hark. Using pain to drive away guilt was something he could absolutely relate to. “Then pain you shall receive.” He straightened. “Pull your shirt up around your upper hips. I want to see that sexy ass of yours.”
Hark almost smiled as Bryan obeyed. Jerking the silk up, he bunched it around his waist, exposing the well rounded curves of his ass. It made Hark want to lean in and take a bite out of the luscious globes. But he resisted. This was for Bryan. He lightly slapped the nearest globe and watched as it jiggled from the blow. A low moan caught in his throat when Bryan arched back toward him.
“Good boy.” He moved away from the tempting sight and reached for one of Bryan's wrists. “I'm going to bind your hands. Which is more comfortable for you? Front or back?”
Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago) Page 10
