Bryan stilled. “Whichever pleases you, Sir.”
This time Hark couldn't retain the low growl that ripped free of him. “Dangerous ground, little one. You shouldn't tease me so.” He picked up the tie he'd dropped on the edge of the desk. “This’ll be the last time you will have any say until your 'centering' is done. Front or back?”
“Behind, Sir. I love the feeling of helplessness.” Bryan's cheeks flushed. “Also it keeps my hands away from my dick.”
Hark arched a brow at him. “Are you saying you're a naughty, disobedient little sub and jerk off without permission?”
Chewing on his lower lip, Bryan made a noise of assention, before speaking. “Sometimes.”
Hark rolled his eyes. “Oh, I bet that went over real well with your Master.”
A sheepish grin split Bryan's face. “Of course it didn't. When he realized I couldn't resist, I ended up wearing either thumb-less mittens or having my arms bound behind me.” He met Hark's gaze. “And with no mittens in sight, you should probably bind my hands, Sir.”
The idea that Bryan was trying to control the scene grated on Hark's nerves. His tone was sarcastic. “Are you topping from the bottom, sub?”
Bryan shook his head vehemently. “No, Sir. Just explaining.” His eyes dropped.
“Good.” Taking the tie, he looped it around one wrist, tugging into the position he wanted before snagging the other behind Bryan's back. Looping and twisting the tie, he completed the Lark’s Head knot with several inches of play between Bryan's wrists. “How's that?”
A frown furrowed Bryan's brow when he gave an experimental tug. “It's loose, Sir.”
“For the moment.” Hark landed a medium strength blow to Bryan's ass. He jerked hard, then gave a soft groan as the tie tightened around his wrists.
“Son of a bitch, Sir.” He sounded winded. “It's...” He seemed at lost how to explain it.
“Good?” Hark quickly checked the snugness of the tie, relieved it wasn't too tight now that Bryan's arms had returned to their original position. Much like a Chinese finger lock, pushing toward each other, the bonds stayed loose but pulling apart made them tighten. A quick press to each of Bryan's finger tips revealed the circulation was more than adequate. Satisfied with the bond, he widened Bryan's stance by kicking his legs out a few inches. He hissed as it put not only Bryan's lush bottom on display but also gave Hark a clear view of Bryan's sack. Full, it seemed to hang nearly half way down his thigh. Light blond hair covered it and Hark had the sudden insane urge to feel the roughed skin against his lips.
Not now. Not ever. Get those damned thoughts out of your head, Akula.
Even as he reprimanded himself, he couldn't stop the surge of blood south at the idea. He needed to get his ass in control. This wasn't about sex. It was about helping Bryan. “I am going to use my belt on your ass. While it won't sting as much as a crop, it’ll have a bit more bite than a flogger. Can you keep quiet or do I need to gag you? The last thing I want is for you to be embarrassed in front of your employees or security.”
A panicked look entered Bryan's gaze, one similar to the one he'd shown when he'd first spoken with his master on the phone. “I...I've never been able to keep completely quiet, but I can try...just don't...I need this.”
Grabbing the bottom of his polo shirt, Hark stripped it over his head. “Not to worry. I'm not going to abandon you.” Twisting the shirt into a long rope, he pressed it to Bryan's mouth.
“Open.”
Readily, the man complied. Once making sure it was positioned correctly, Hark tied it firmly behind Bryan’s head. Then he rooted around in several of the drawers until he found what he was looking for. “Here we are.” Fishing out a round stress ball, he placed it against the palm of Bryan's right hand then wrapped Bryan's fingers around it. “Squeeze it twice to tell me you need me to slow down or drop it and it’ll all stop. Do you understand?”
Bryan nodded.
Hark rolled his shoulders before reaching for the belt once more. “So we shall begin.”
As the first blow landed against Bryan's ivory skin, Hark wasn't sure who moaned louder, himself or Bryan.
* * * *
Each thud of the belt against his ass sent Bryan soaring higher as the pain morphed into pleasure. He'd never dreamed something as simple as a spanking would be able to send him flying. Sure he knew his body was hotwired for pain and bondage, but never had he rose so fast, so swiftly and so high. Was it because of the man wielding the belt? Or some other quirk that had him responding to Hark? Even as he tried to fathom it out, the next stroke of fire raced up his spine – sending him tumbling toward sub-space. Even as much as he longed for its embrace, he fought the need to let go.
A guttural moan passed his lips, only to be caught by the makeshift gag Hark had created when the belt found the back of his thigh. He bit into the soft cloth and let the pain wash away a little bit of his guilt.
“Stop fighting, little one.” Hark’s tone was brisk – almost commanding as if he could peek inside of Bryan’s chaotic mind to find the root of Bryan’s guilt. “I can do this as long as it takes. You will give over. It’ll be up to you if you go home with a slightly warmed ass or one so bruised you won’t be able to sit comfortably.”
The threat of more pain did little to phase Bryan. He’d endured whippings after Diachi’s accident. He’d cut himself as a teen to deal with his emerging sexuality. The threat of a sound spanking shouldn’t be able to trump any of those events. But as Hark kept up the rhythm, alternating medium to hard strikes with those much softer, he found himself off balance – his body wanting to submit, while his brain wouldn’t shut up.
“Umpph.” He mumbled around the gag. Whether it was a plea for more or one to stop, he clung to the stress ball tightly. He didn’t want Hark to mistake his noise for one of true pain or distress. He was a screamer by nature when it came to his sex. Something about him his master loved – or so Diachi claimed. But when it came to guilt-easing pain, some of the sounds torn from him were truly brutal.
“That’s right. Let go. Give me the guilt, Bryan. Let it go.” Hark’s tone was soft, almost pleading, just before the belt landed square across his ass again, causing Bryan to jerk. He moaned pitifully. “That wasn’t a request, sub.” Hark’s tone hardened, then instead of the belt landing another blow, Hark’s fingers scratched over the heated flesh, sending a sharper jolt of pain through him.
This time, Bryan wasn’t able to hold back as the endorphins flooded his system. Tears broke free as he tumbled down into sub-space. Welcoming the comforting darkness, his fingers went lax and the ball dropped from his fingers. Peace washed over him.
* * * *
Hark cradled the silently sobbing man in his arms. After removing not only the gag but the silk tie as well, he’d pulled Bryan’s pants up enough to cover his hot ass – not bothering with the fastener and sank into the large plush executive chair. Using concentric circles as he rubbed Bryan’s back, he hummed an old Native American chant his mother had used to sing to him as a child. While he waited for Bryan to come back down from the height he’d flown, Hark ignored each fresh wave of tears wetting the planes of his chest. The emotional release the spanking had offered had done more than give Bryan needed relief, it also soothed the wounded part left deep within Hark – buried memories surrounding the loss of his family.
Rocking back and forth as the tears slowly dried up, Hark idly wished for a bottle of water or even a warm blanket to comfort Bryan. His little one was coming back to him. He kept up the humming, knowing from personal experience how rough it could be. The little comforts a Dom could offer went a long way to making a sub feel safe.
“Sir?”
The croaked sound of the honorific had the song dying in his throat.
“Hmmm?” He continued to rub Bryan’s back.
The fingers resting against his abs seemed to clench. “I…” Bryan’s head lifted, exposing his moist blue eyes. The calm acceptance in their depths hadn’t been there earlier.
“Thank you, Sir.” Then his head dropped back down.
“You’re welcome.” Hark rested his chin on the top of Bryan’s tousled curls and savored the intimacy – despite the ache in his cock that came from having a man he desired sitting on his lap. He wasn’t ready to give it up quite yet.
Chapter Twelve
“Is he sleeping?”
Diachi stilled for a moment before easing the bedroom door shut the rest of the way. It had been less than an hour since Hark had guided Bryan into the house with a hand on the small of his back. Diachi had taken one look and knew his sub was done in. He’d promptly taken his worn- out sub from the other man and tucked him into bed. Bryan had been out by the time his head hit the pillow. He’d watched over his lover for a few minutes before quietly exiting the room. He’d been determined to have it out with his former sub. But it seemed for once they was on the same page.
Once the door latched, Diachi turned to face Hark lounging against the glass terrace door. Behind him the faint lights from his garden outlined Hark's form. He couldn't help but find himself tempted by the sight. The promise of the man he'd one day become had driven Diachi wild nearly fifteen years ago. To see how Hark had filled out and matured was a visual feast. But he had a feeling Hark hadn't hung around after bringing Bryan home just to be eye candy. The other man obviously stuck around while he was putting his submissive to bed, because he needed to talk about what had happened at the office today.
“Yes. He'll probably be out for the rest of the night. It's a side effect of going through such an emotional scene. It’s not unusual for him to be completely worn out afterward.” He leaned against the closed door. “But, somehow even as you inquire about his health, I don't think that’s why you waited for me.”
“No.” The word came out harsh, tense even.
Ignoring the emotion behind it, Diachi pushed off the firm surface to enter the entertainment area of the large great room. If they were going to have this discussion, he was at least going to be comfortable. Though with each step, he felt his former submissive's eyes on him. “Regardless, I'm glad you were there today with him. Bryan hasn't needed that type of relief in several years now.” He sank onto the low couch. “Trauma is a trigger for Bryan, so I’m not surprised he needed one. It was nice to know you had my back.”
A rough sound escaped his former submissive. “What the hell makes you think I had anything?” Hark stalked toward him with a fluidity that made Diachi's mouth water. “What if I topped him to merely show him what he was missing?”
Conceding Hark had a very good point would be pointless and more than likely counter-productive, so he tackled the issue by sidestepping it. “And did you?”
Hark's shoulders stiffened. “What if I had? Don’t you care I might have been usurping your place?”
Draping his arm over the back of the couch, Diachi studied him. “Then I'd say you aren't the man I remember.”
A harsh laugh passed Hark's lips. “Do you honestly think I haven't changed since we parted? That I haven't hurt people, done horrible things I wish I could forget? That I killed when commanded?”
Diachi refused to rise to the bait. While Hark had been gone today, he’d put in several calls to friends in the lifestyle. They’d only confirmed what Olivia had told him. Before and even after the death of his family, Hark had remained a man of honor. The idiot was merely trying to scare him off. Hark would soon realize it wasn’t going to work. “Are you speaking of your time in the military?”
The other man actually glared at him. “Just because it’s wrapped up in the flag doesn't make it any easier to swallow.”
“Of course it doesn't. But your sacrifice for our country is still honorable.”
Raking his hand through his hair, Hark stomped his foot. The same trait Diachi had found endearing when they'd been together. And it was telling. Hark was frustrated. But by what?
“Dammit! I can't do this!”
Instead of pushing, Diachi waited for Hark to explain. In the past he'd found silence got to the man faster than browbeating — so he merely, patiently, continued to sit and watch.
Hark tossed his braid over his shoulder and made a sound of impatience as the clock ticked on the mantle. Diachi had learned a great deal of patience since they’d parted. He refused to play into Hark’s hands. The man wanted a fight – one that he wouldn’t give him.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you going to just fuckin’ sit there? Don’t you want to know why I can’t do this?”
Playing with the fabric under his fingers, Diachi contemplated Hark for a few more moments before finally answering. “If you want to tell me, you will. I’m not about to force you into anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
A bitter laugh passed Hark’s lips. “Really? Then what about this thing with Bryan? I didn’t ask to be his guard dog…”
“That was all Bryan.” Diachi cocked his head before pulling a soft linen handkerchief from his pocket. “You agreed to his terms.”
Hark chewed on his lower lip, then sighed. “I did, but perhaps you and I should re-think this thing.”
“What do you mean re-think? Surely you've spent time doing worse things than sitting in a plush office and watching my sub work.”
A low growl escaped Hark. “That's not what I meant and you fucking know it.” His hands slid down to his hips and there was a longing in his voice when he spoke again. “You can't keep asking me to top him, Diachi.”
Diachi narrowed his eyes. So that’s his problem. He wants to top Bryan. The thought sent a surge of lust straight to his groin. The idea of watching Hark control his hana had him wanting to take his cock out right now and stroke one off. “I don’t understand why not. It's obvious you're good at it.”
“It doesn't matter if I'm good at it or not,” Hark growled. “You can't expect me to treat Bryan as my submissive during work hours — then for me to turn it off when we arrive back here. I'm not built that way.”
Diachi smiled slowly. “I know you're not.”
“Then why the hell are you doing this? To punish me for wanting more than you did?” Hark began to pace. “Because if that's it, I might as well leave now. I don't have much self-respect left but what little I do have, I'm holding on to. I won't let you finish what my mother's people started.”
Diachi couldn't stop the low rumble that escaped him at Hark's implication. Or the fact the man who'd been through hell was still letting ghosts from his past rule him. “Excuse me? Did you just belittle yourself again, Harkahome?”
* * * *
Hark froze when his full name rolled off Diachi's tongue. It wasn't that he’d never heard it from him before —he had on a regular basis when they'd been together and it had slipped out several times since he'd been staying with them. No, it was the slight rise of tone at the end of it that warned Hark he'd gone too far with his assumptions. He couldn't help but swallow hard as Diachi's eyes narrowed, his fingers drumming on the cushion next to his leg. Neither were a good sign. In fact, if he'd still been wearing Diachi's collar, he'd have more than likely found himself over the man's lap, getting his ass warmed for his infraction. He was suddenly glad they weren't together. He remembered all too well how hard Diachi's hand could be.
“It wasn't a rhetorical question.” The stern tone had Hark's submissive side whimpering. Even as much as he wanted to avoid any form of punishment from his former master, part of him wanted to push, to see if Diachi could still send him outside of his body with a few well-placed blows.
“I...” Hark forced away the tempting idea with a great amount of difficulty, then tried to compose himself.
Diachi's hand stilled – never a good sign. There was always a stillness about the man before he pounced.
“That's not an answer. Or do we need to revisit what happens when you let the past rule you?”
Hark took a deep breath. “You’re no longer my master, Diachi. And even if you were, this discussion has nothing to do with the past. We're talking about your
insistence on me topping Bryan. Nothing good will come of it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll continue to protect him while at work, but the dominating has to stop — before something happens I can't take back.”
“No.” Diachi crossed his arms over his chest.
Hark paused, disbelief coursing through him. The Diachi he remembered would’ve never shared his sub. It was why they split in the first place. Diachi couldn’t handle his need to dominate as well as submit. They’d been apart nearly two decades, but he couldn’t see his former master changing that much. Maybe he needed to lay it out in clear-cut terms. Explain what was exactly at risk if they continued down this path. “No? Do you honestly want me to end up fucking your sub? Because that’s where this is leading to. I resisted today, because the scene we had was one of emotional release. But if it had been one for pleasure…I’d have ended up balls deep inside him.”
The heat in Diachi’s gaze flared. “And if I remember correctly that's exactly what I told you to do earlier.”
Hark wanted to swear softly. “This is ridiculous. I refuse to horn in on your relationship with Bryan. No submissive deserves to be treated that way.”
Diachi sighed. “He does, if that's what he wants.”
Hark couldn't help but stare at him. “You've got to be fucking kidding me. He wants to be shared?”
“Of course he does – with you. Or I'd have never suggested you seduce him.” Diachi rose from the couch. “Look, we opened our relationship to you. Bryan and I agreed upon this course of action before I spoke to you this morning. So why are you being so damned obstinate about this?”
“Obstinate?” Hark froze and stared at the other man. “You think I'm merely objecting to be difficult?”
“No, I know you are. You're afraid of feeling again. I get that. But you can't live in the past forever. We're going to drag you, kicking and screaming, into the present if we have to.” Diachi slowly stalked him. “And I realize you’re going to fight me every step of the way. Just like you did the first time I tied you to my bed.”
Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago) Page 11
