Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago)

by Trace, Dakota

  “Because I don't want to.” Hark set his palette down on the dresser, then he lifted Bryan clean off his feet with very little effort and deposited him next to his paints. “Now stay put. I need to work.”

  Then as if Hark hadn't just surprised the hell out of him, the man retrieved his paints and stepped up to the wall. Bryan was dumbfounded. He couldn't believe the other man had picked up like a mere child and put him where he wanted.

  “This discussion isn't over, Hark.” He felt the need to warn him. If it was the last thing he'd do, he'd convince Hark to paint a mural in their playroom.

  Without turning from the mural, Hark sighed. “Yes, it is.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hark stretched with a deep groan nearly three hours later, his back screaming at him. During that time, he'd managed to get quite a bit done on the mural. Stepping back, he ran a critical eye over the painting. It was shaping up nicely and he figured it'd probably only take one, maybe two more sessions tops, to finish it off.

  “Wow, you're talented, Hark.” Bryan joined him. “I've never watched a person paint before.” He shook his head. “The patience you have is amazing. Probably one more reason why you make such a good Dom.” Bryan moved closer to the wet acrylic paint. “Damned if it doesn't almost look real.” He glanced over at Hark. “Gabriel mentioned you painted one for your son?”

  “Yeah.” Hark bent to stick his brushes into the glass jar of soapy water sitting several inches in front of his feet.

  “Do you have any pictures of it?” Bryan moved a bit further down, examining one of the huge clusters of creamy stucco and red brick homes he’d painted along the shore line of the vibrant blue water and crashing white waves.

  “No.” Hark ignored the burning memory inside his chest. “What few pictures I allowed to be taken of it were burned up along with the mural itself.”

  Bryan turned. “I'm truly sorry. That has to be hard — losing not only your home but your art as well.”

  Hark outwardly shrugged it off. “Doesn't matter in the overall flow of things. In my culture, every action has an opposite and equal reaction – a balance, so to speak. Mother Earth decided to reclaim my art. Perhaps to keep my ego in check.” Picking up the jar of brushes and his palette, he headed toward the hall bath. “I'll be right back. I need to clean these brushes, then I'll be ready to take you to the office.”

  It only took a few minutes to clean everything, but when he came back into the nursery, he stiffened. With his phone, Bryan was snapping pictures of the mural.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He couldn't stop the deep growl that escaped him.

  Bryan looked up at him without a trace of guilt in his eyes. “Taking pictures. I wanted to show Master.”

  Hark mentally counted to ten, then twenty. “This is supposed to be a surprise for Zhenya. I didn't bring you along to show it off. I brought you along...”

  “Because it's not safe for me at work.” Bryan nodded slowly. “I get that. But by the same token, I don't think your art should be hidden away.” He fiddled with his phone for a few more moments before he closed it, and shot Hark a mischievous smile. “Besides if Master knows about it, he can help me convince you to do our playroom wall.”

  Hark hissed. Memories of how supportive Diachi had been of his art during college threatened to swamp him. He couldn't risk the other man seeing the photos. It would re-kindle the talk of an art career he no longer wanted. “Delete the photos.”

  “What?” Confusion crossed Bryan's face. “I can't do that.”

  “Yes, you can.” Hark kept his tone firm, because there was no way he'd survive if Diachi saw them — let alone the actual mural. His former master would insist he paint a mural for his playroom. And at this moment his resistance was paper-thin at best.

  Bryan shook his head. “No, I won't. Your art is beautiful and deserves to be shared.” He then slipped the phone into his back pocket.

  Hark crossed his arms over his chest. “You really don't want to push me on this. If I have to take the phone, you won't like the consequences.”

  Bryan slowly shook his head, then his eyes narrowed. “Why is it such a big deal? I'm not planning on sharing them with Zhenya. Hiding your talent would be the real crime.”

  Hark strove for patience. “I...just give me the phone. The last thing I need is for your Master to have more ammunition against me.”

  Bryan's face went blank. “What do you mean ammunition?” He stepped closer and toyed with the end of Hark's braid. “What the hell happened last night after I fell asleep?”

  Hark jerked away, but found instead of loosening Bryan's grip on his hair, the other man ended up wrapping the braid around his hand and wrist several times, effectively tethering Hark to him.

  “Let go!” He forced the command past his clenched teeth.

  Using the braid as leverage, Bryan drew him closer. “Nope. Not until you spill it. There'll be honestly between us. I may be willing to go through hell for you, but the first time you lie to me, I'm going to kick you square in your precious jewels.”

  Instinctively Hark dropped his hands to his groin. As pissed as Bryan looked, he wasn't about to leave his balls undefended.

  “Just leave it,” Hark growled, before trying to tug his braid free.

  Lifting his hand, Bryan swatted Hark on his ass — hard. Shock poured through Hark. When was the last time any man had dared lift a hand to him?

  “You hit me!” The accusation came out hoarse and held a bit of astonishment. He couldn’t believe the man had smacked him.

  Bryan bared his teeth. “I'll do more than that if you don't start being honest with me. Master was tense this morning and you've been a dick. If you had a fight, fine. But you're not going to hide it from me. I'm not fucking made out of glass.”

  Hark clenched his jaw. He could see the man's point – secrets always came back to bite you in the ass, but to be called on it irked. “Look, it had nothing to do with you directly.”

  Bryan jerked hard on Hark's braid. “Fine. Then it must've been indirectly. Spill it, or I'm sending these pictures to Diachi right now.”

  A smirk crossed his face. “To do that you're going to have to let me go, and I guarantee you the moment you do, you're going to end up over my knee, little one.”

  Bryan actually shivered at Hark’s threat. “Try again, Sir. You keep forgetting I enjoy a good spanking.” Bryan leaned closer until his mouth was mere inches from Hark's ear. “There's just something erotic about being at a man's mercy and knowing he can do whatever he wants with me. Reddening my ass or fucking me until all I can do is moan.”

  This time Hark could feel the tremor coursing through Bryan where their bodies touched. Bryan’s response triggered his own and any inner control he might have had flew out the window. He buried his hand in the blond curls at the nape of Bryan's neck while hauling the man even further up against him. He hissed when the erection Bryan sported rubbed against his hip. “Teasing little bastard. You want to know what we fought about? Your damned Master wants me to submit to him again.”

  Bryan moaned softly. “So what's the big deal?” He twisted against Hark. “I'd probably come in my pants just watching the two of you.”

  Hark tightened his hold on Bryan's hair. He gave it a hard tug until Bryan's head was tipped back and the long column of his throat was exposed. “He doesn't share, dammit!”

  Bryan gasped, his gaze searching out Hark's. “Says who?”

  “Says him. He let me go because I needed to dominate. Because I wanted a third to make our partnership complete. He couldn't handle it. I refuse to go through that torment again.” Hark was breathing hard, the need to make Bryan understand coursed through his veins. “It damned near killed me the first time.” Hark's head dipped and he grazed the tanned skin covering Bryan’s pounding pulse with his teeth, wanting more than anything to leave his mark for Diachi to see. “I can't do it. I won't survive.”

  “I know it's scary, but...” Bryan's chest was rising and fa
lling in time with his ragged breathing. Then he hooked one of his knees over Hark's hip as he dragged Hark's face up to his. “You're forgetting one thing, Harkahome.”

  “What's that?” Hark cupped Bryan's ass with one palm and drew him so close the man was riding his thigh.

  “Me. Diachi and I are a package deal. Submit to him, and you get me. That’s the way it works.” Then Bryan pressed his lips against Hark's.

  Hark's dark world nearly exploded in light as Bryan thrust his tongue inside his mouth. For a submissive, the man was bolder than any man Hark had recently run across. An aggressive rumble filled his head moments before he tore control of the kiss away from Bryan. If the man wanted a conquering, that's what he'd get.

  * * * *

  Diachi had to stifle his moan as he watched Hark take control of the kiss. The pure dominance radiating off of his former sub as he ravished and then conquered Bryan’s mouth was potent. It made him wonder why he had been so resistant to Hark’s request in the past. Because I hadn’t met Bryan yet. I hadn’t found our third.

  His breath quickened when Hark squeezed Bryan’s ass and rocked him against the thigh he’d wedged between Bryan’s legs. Diachi’s lust became a consuming inferno. He wanted to be part of it. To experience every sigh, moan, and groan as the two most important men in his life rubbed against each other, seeking out their pleasure.

  He silently shut the door then locked the handle, suddenly glad Bryan had texted him earlier and told him to come to Gabriel’s new house. What was about to happen was better off with no witnesses. If sometime in the future Hark and Bryan wanted an audience, he would arrange something with Olivia. But for now, this torrid sight was for his pleasure only.

  “Pushy little bastard.” Hark ripped his mouth away from Bryan’s, his lips swollen as he trailed his mouth and teeth down Bryan’s neck to his shoulder. Bryan’s head tipped back and a low pitched moan escaped his little hana when Hark nipped his shoulder through the thin t-shirt he wore.

  “Son of a...” Diachi muttered the word as Bryan tried to climb up Hark like a tree. The contrast of Hark's dark head against the tanned flesh of Bryan's neck sent a jolt of lust directly to his groin. He thanked all the ancient gods that his little sub had decided to text him. It had been the photos of Hark painting that had brought him to Gabriel's new home, but it was the two men in front of him that kept him rooted in place, all the while praying none of the workmen downstairs ventured up to check on the three of them.

  “Sir!” The strangled, almost garbled shout from Bryan played over Diachi's already lust saturated nerves. He wanted to be a part of whatever naughtiness Hark was doing to Bryan. Not just a mere observer. He needed to touch — to taste every iota of their pleasure. It was like a potent drug flooding his system until he could no longer stand just inside the door.

  “Naughty little fucking sub.” Hark's gravel-laced words reached out to Diachi. “That's it, ride my thigh. Rub your hard cock all over me.” His hands cupped Bryan's ass and rocked him harder and faster, until Bryan was crying out — his tone desperate.

  “Please, Sir. Make me come like Master does.” Bryan tried to wrap his arms around Hark's shoulders, but the other man easily caught them while a groan of frustration ripped free of Hark.

  “No.” Hark sounded tormented but firm as he tried to slip away from Bryan. “You’re not mine.” He put Bryan down to stand on his feet and started to back away.

  Diachi was ready to step in – to reassure Hark that Bryan was most definitely both of theirs, when Bryan sank to his knees in front of Hark.

  “Oh yes, I am. Master gave me to you. And I’ll prove it.”

  The determination in Bryan’s tone had Diachi grinning. The poor bastard didn’t know what he was in for now. Watching as Bryan reached for tab of Hark's jeans, Diachi crept closer. He barely contained his own moan when Bryan managed to get the zipper open, revealing dark curls and copper hued skin. With nimble, trembling fingers, Bryan tugged Hark's shaft free of the restrictive denim.

  “Bryan…please.” Hark tried to push Bryan’s hands away. “I can't let you do this. You don't belong to me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Bryan growled, using the belt loops on Hark’s jeans to yank him closer.

  “But –” Hark's protest ended when he gave a hoarse shout as Bryan sucked the head of his cock deep inside his mouth. One of Hark's hands ended up buried in Bryan's tousled curls.

  In his own pants, Diachi's cock throbbed mercilessly as he watched Bryan's blond head bob up and down. He knew exactly how talented his agile mouth was — how curious his sub's tongue could be. Once Bryan got your dick in his mouth, there was little a person could do to resist the pleasure he doled out with every lick, swirl, and nibble.

  “Bryan...please.” Hark's head tipped back as he fought for control — or some semblance of it. Not that the tormented man would find it.

  The desperate noises coming from Bryan were raw and needy.

  Like he's scared someone will take away his treat. Diachi wouldn’t let that happen.

  The panting in the room grew louder as Hark's hips began to sway in time with each draw of Bryan's lips.

  “Ah, fuck. Naughty little tongue.” Hark's chest heaved like bellows. “Lick the head. Polish it, baby. Find every drop....shit!” He bucked once then twice before thrusting his free hand between his body and Bryan's head, curling his fingers around the thick base of his cock.

  “Now look who's being naughty.” Diachi stepped close enough to place his hand at the small of Hark's back. “Denying a hungry sub his reward isn’t very nice.”

  Hark groaned long and loud, but didn't protest when Diachi peeled his hand away from his cock.

  “Let him have it. Our sub wants – no, needs to taste your essence.”

  Hark's eyes squeezed shut, his back straining against Diachi's palm while he obviously wrestled with his need to come. “I can't....”

  Diachi stilled. Even though Hark hadn't agreed to be his again, there was no way that he could let the struggling man claw his way toward release — not when Diachi knew how to send him over the edge. Burying the consequences, Diachi caught ahold of Hark's braid and wrapped it around his hand and wrist. “Look at me, Harkahome.” He accented the command with a sharp tug on the trapped hair clenched between his fingers.

  “Ahhhh...” Hark twisted his body, but refused to obey.

  “Now, sub.”

  The bark had Hark's lust-dazed eyes opening then focusing on him. The recognition of his master’s presence in their depths registered, even as Hark tried to disguise it.

  “Oh no, you don't. You will not hide. You will take what we give you. The pleasure our sub wants you to feel. The pain...” Diachi jerked harder on the braid. “I know you need.”

  “Fuckkkkk....” The drawn out cry and increased trembling as Hark skated on along the edge only had Diachi more determined than ever to push Hark over the edge.

  Without looking away from Hark, Diachi tossed instructions down to Bryan. “Nip him. Rake those teeth over your Sir's cock, hana. Your Sir enjoys a bit of pain with his pleasure.”

  “No...” The plea came out garbled, but Hark didn't struggle against him or Bryan.

  “Yes,” Diachi hissed, his face mere inches from Hark's. “You will accept what we offer.” Diachi brought his hand down hard on Hark's ass. “Let go.”

  “I can't...”

  He met Hark's scared gaze, willing the man to see the truth in them. “I promise I'll catch you.”

  “Master...” Hark arched toward Bryan's mouth, while his head pulled at the restraining hold Diachi had on him. The plea ended in a shout as Hark's orgasm claimed him.

  The greedy moans from Bryan as he hungrily feasted on his Sir's release were music to Diachi’s ears. As Hark started to sag, Diachi steadied him with an arm around his waist.

  “That's it, Harkahome. Come into the light. Even if it's only for a few moments. I won't let anything hurt you.” Diachi kept up a soothing dialogue as Hark continued to
shake. At their feet Bryan continued to coax out the last remnants of Hark’s release.

  “Enough...” Hark finally whimpered, trying to push Bryan away.

  Bryan growled deep in his throat, his arms tightening around Hark’s thighs.

  Despite the circumstances, Diachi couldn't help but smile at other man's antics. More than once Bryan had sucked him back to hardness after one of his spectacular blow-jobs.

  “Master...please.” Hark arched as another jolt of pleasure shook him.

  Diachi finally sighed, and decided to be merciful. “Enough, Bryan. Give your Sir a second to recover.”

  A pitiful sound escaped Bryan when he gave one last lick before lifting his head. Desire sparkled in the blue depths of his eyes. “He’s fucking delicious, Master.” He licked his lower lip, capturing a stray drop of seed as he rose to his feet.

  The sudden urge to taste the pearly essence consumed Diachi. “Come here, hana. I want a taste.” A low moan filled the air as Bryan obeyed, sealing his mouth over Diachi's. Hark’s salty flavor burst over his taste buds and drove his lust even higher. By the time Bryan tore his mouth free, Diachi’s body was on fire.

  Bryan leaned his head on Hark’s shoulder, his eyes on Diachi. “Can we do that again, Master?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Fuck.” Hark swayed on his feet as the most incredible release he'd had in sometime eased and left him feeling weaker than a newborn colt.

  “Shhh, everything’s okay.” Diachi's voice was soft, comforting even as he and Bryan supported Hark’s weight between them.

  Blinking, he tried to come back down, to draw up the necessary anger to distance himself from what had just happened, but it was almost impossible. He should be angry. Furious even that Bryan had brought his master here and in less time than it took for him to change his clothes, they’d stripped his iron control away. It shouldn't be like this. I should've pulled away, resisted — done something.

  “Is he okay, Master?” Bryan's worry was obvious by the tone of his voice. “I wanted to pleasure him, not annihilate him.”