Mastering Melody

Mastering Melody Melody Jeffers has a secret. She craves a lifestyle she doesn’t even understand, but she has to know, needs to find out where the strange urges come from before she marries her best friend, Bradley Griffin. When Ryan discovers his brother’s fiancé has wandered into his BDSM club he’s momentarily shocked. Since announcing their engagement he’s been careful to avoid the happy couple. He may have been Melody’s first, but her future is with his brother. Yet, when he realizes she’s a lost and confused natural submissive, he has trouble letting go. Bradley can see the attraction between his fiancé and his brother and asks Ryan for help to train her as a submissive. He knows he’s risking his future, but if sharing her will make Melody happy he’s willing to try. But can a relationship survive between three people with very different needs? Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings. Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre Length: 35,621 words

MASTERING MELODY

Rachel Clark

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

MASTERING MELODY Copyright © 2012 by Rachel Clark E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-068-1 First E-book Publication: December 2012 Cover design by Harris Channing All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Mastering Melody by Rachel Clark from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Rachel Clark’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Clark’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

MASTERING MELODY RACHEL CLARK Copyright © 2012

Chapter One My heart is pounding. My hands feel clammy. I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Good god, I just want to run, screaming. But I have to know. I have to understand. I need to face my demons before I can move on. The deep throb of the music pounds through me as I sneak in the door, but it’s the brightly lit reception area that throws me. I didn’t expect it. I thought only to wander through the displays—the scenes, as they call them—and finally be able to admit I was wrong. I don’t crave this lifestyle. I don’t. Just the thought of a man taking pleasure from hurting me is appalling, but there is something, something I don’t understand, something I need or at least think I need. I’m here to prove to myself that I don’t need it, that my cravings are nothing more than the product of an overactive imagination. But I need to be sure. “Can I help you?” I startle slightly when I realize the woman is addressing me. I’d planned to be anonymous. I hadn’t intended to talk to anyone. “I…um…” What the hell do I say? Sorry, I wandered in here by mistake? Or do I pretend I don’t know what sort of club this is? But the woman gives me a kind smile. “Curious?” she asks.

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I nod nervously, unwilling or perhaps unable to say the word out loud. The woman looks me over, seeing something I cannot even imagine. She nods decisively, as if I’ve passed some sort of test. “You’ll need a guide, a Dom.” I shiver at the word “Dom.” I know what a Dom is. I’ve done my research. Damn Internet. Without it I would never have known places like this even existed. “Do you prefer men or women?” “What?” I ask, feeling my face fill with color. “I know this can be overwhelming, but you’ll enjoy yourself more if you’re honest with me.” She gives me a friendly smile. “Men or women?” I shake my head. “I–I have a fiancé,” I whisper in a strangled tone of voice. “Still doesn’t answer my question, sugar.” “Men,” I say quickly, “but…” She lifts the phone, presses a single button, and hands me a yellow piece of plastic that looks similar to a hospital tag. “Hi, Mitchell. It’s Stephanie. I have a new sub here who needs a guide. Could you send a Dom to the front desk?” She listens for a moment, smiles at something the man says, and then hangs up. “Mitchell will escort you around the club.” She points at the yellow plastic. “That tells everyone that you’re not here to play, only to observe.” She hands me a sheet of paper and points to a row of lockers at the far end of the room. “Reset the access code with your own,” she says, pointing to the instructions in front of me, “and then place everything inside.” “Everything?” I ask with a squeak. I know many clubs expect the subs to be scantily dressed or naked, but it’s not what I expected tonight. I’m only observing. I only want to watch. I’m only here to convince myself that I don’t need to be here. Shit. “There’s a list of banned items on the bottom, sugar,” the woman says, pointing to a group of words separated by asterisks. I nod a little

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shakily when I realize she means to place the banned items into the locker—my cell phone, car keys, any photographic or recording devices, basically everything except my clothes. “Quickly, Mitchell will be here in a moment, and he is one Dom you don’t want to keep waiting.” I nod and rush to do as she says. I’ve read some stuff about hardass Doms. I really do not want to upset one on my first night here. First? No, no, no…My only night here. Ever. I nearly leap from my skin when the door beside the reception desk opens. The man who comes through is huge, scary huge, manmountain huge. Oh hell. He’s wearing black leather pants and heavy boots, the type that a biker might wear when riding his Harley. But it’s the chains crisscrossing his chest, the leather cuffs hanging from his belt, and the nearly naked woman holding his hand that declare him a Dom. I swallow nervously as he comes to stand in front of me. “What’s your name, little sub?” I consider lying—I don’t plan to come back here—but there is just something about this man that rattles my composure. I don’t think he’s even trying to be intimidating, but I can’t for the life of me think of another name to give him. The only one in my head is my own. “Melody,” I blurt out nervously. “Well, Melody,” he says as he takes the yellow plastic out of my hand and secures it around my wrist. “Tonight you will watch and learn and do exactly as I tell you.” I glance nervously at the woman, the sub, behind him. She gives me an encouraging smile and a small nod. Apparently she trusts this giant of a man and thinks I should, too. “What happens if I break a rule accidentally?” I’ve read about all sorts of painful-sounding punishments for badly behaved subs. I’m not ready to be one, and I sure as hell don’t want to find myself being punished for not understanding the lifestyle.

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“Nothing, little sub,” he says, reaching over to touch my cheek affectionately. “But I won’t tolerate bratty behavior, either. Defy me and you will find yourself escorted to your car and your welcome revoked. Am I clear?” “Yes,” I say, trying not to react to the way he touched my face. My fiancé touches me like that quite often. It makes me feel loved and cherished and special to him. The same touch from a stranger should not affect me the same way. “Keep your gaze lowered, speak only when spoken to, and you will address every Dom with the proper respect.” I nod my head, but I’m not certain what constitutes proper respect. I’m practically dancing from foot to foot wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say. God, I’ve never been this nervous in my entire adult life. How can one man make me feel like an inexperienced, awkward, socially inept teenager? Shit, I’m almost on the verge of hyperventilating and I haven’t even made it into the damn club. A firm grip on my jaw lifts my gaze to his. “Last chance to run, little sub. Now or never.” I swallow hard. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here. The fact that I am almost scared witless should be enough to convince me that I need to go home and forget everything about this place, this lifestyle, this intimidating man. But I’m frozen to the spot. He searches my face, apparently seeing what he wants to see, because he drops his hand from my jaw, turns his back, and issues his order. “Come, little sub. Let’s go see if we can find what you’ve been looking for.” I follow him instinctively, grateful for the other sub’s friendly smile as we step through a doorway and into a world I’ve only ever dreamed of.

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Chapter Two The music is pounding right through me, the deep bass and the dim lighting, the shrieks of both pleasure and pain, making me feel like I’ve stepped through a portal to another dimension. People all around me are naked, or nearly naked, some on display, some just watching. We stop in front of a raised dais. A naked woman is draped over a man’s knee. She’s just lying there, waiting, her eyes closed, her expression one of simple peace. I can’t hear the man over the music, but it’s obvious he’s talking to her as he caresses the naked cheeks of her ass. She nods once. The Dom I am with—I think his name is Mitchell, but since he didn’t tell me that I dare not use it—pulls his sub to stand in front of him, his hands roaming over her nearly naked breasts as they wait for the scene to begin. He glances toward me and sees me inching away from him slightly. I’m not frightened he’ll try to do that to me as well. I just feel like I need to give them some privacy. Considering where we are, it’s a ludicrous instinct. The entire club is designed with voyeurism in mind. Watching and being watched is what this part of the club is about. Mitchell leans over, snags my wrist, and drags me back to where I’d been moments ago. He places my hand on his belt, encouraging me to curl my fingers around the stiff leather. “Do not let go,” he says in a voice I have no intention of ignoring. “Understood?” “Yes,” I say as he leans down to hear me. He seems to be waiting for something, and I’m already worried that I’ve done something wrong. “Yes, Sir,” I say a little bit louder, hoping that what I read on

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the Internet is correct. He nods, gives me a smile that suggests that I’ve pleased him, and then goes back to caressing the woman in front of him. I flinch with the woman on stage when the first harsh slap hits her ass. I can almost feel the sting as her Dom rubs his hand over her abused flesh. When he smacks her again I imagine the warmth of it spreading over my ass, the pain and the pleasure morphing into one amazing feeling. My pussy pulses as I watch, entranced. My clit swells. My breathing quickens. My hands are shaking when I try to push my hair out of my eyes. Arousal swirls through me, gripping me with need. Good god, what have I done? **** Ryan Griffin watched the Saturday-night crowd with a jaundiced eye. Maybe he’d been doing this too long, but he hadn’t come across a sub who truly appealed to him in a very long time. Maybe he should take over training the new subs like his friend Doug had asked him to do. Apparently Doug had fallen in love, and ever since he’d found his current sub, Alicia, he’d refused to take on any new contracts. The fact that he shared his sub with another Dom was actually quite surprising. Ryan knew both men well enough to know they were both a lot like him—demanding, bossy, possessive. He tried to shake off the thought. The only woman he’d ever loved was now engaged to his brother. Sharing was not an option, and he wasn’t going to waste another moment fantasizing over a woman he couldn’t have, especially when she didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. Hell, if Bradley even thought about ordering his beautiful fiancée to kneel at his feet she’d likely knee him in the balls instead. The thought made Ryan smile. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Melody would always make her own decisions. She

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wasn’t the type to sit back and let the people around her decide her future. It was one of the things he loved most about her. Maybe that was why he was feeling jaded. Most of the subs he’d come across lately had been looking for a full-time master-slave relationship. Being in charge and making every decision or treating a woman almost like a child had never appealed to him. He’d always hungered for an equal partner, someone capable of making decisions on her own but at the same time willing to submit to him in certain circumstances. It was a lot to ask, especially in the middle of a BDSM club, but a part of him still hoped to find his perfect match. Doug and Lachlan had found their perfect woman. Surely there was a chance that he would someday find the same type of part-time Dom-sub relationship. “Are you ready for the whip demonstration?” Callum asked, stepping closer to be heard over the loud music. “As long as you still are,” Ryan answered with a grin. Whipping another Dom’s sub wasn’t unusual for Ryan, but it was the first time he’d been asked to whip a new wife as a wedding present. “Of course,” Callum said, touching his wife and full-time submissive, Sandra, lovingly. She smiled, and even with her gaze lowered Ryan could see how happy these two people made each other. It gave him hope. Callum and Sandra were perfect for each other, their needs and attitudes meshing seamlessly. Somewhere out there was the perfect submissive for Ryan, too. He just had to keep looking.

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Chapter Three I’m still shivering in reaction to the spanking scene when the Dom I’m with leads me and his sub to another scene. This time the woman is tied to a wooden cross, a corset of sorts covering the middle of her torso, the rest of her completely naked. I know the name for the cross, but I can’t for the life of me remember it. It seems unimportant, though, when a man steps closer and begins peppering her skin with what looks like a soft leather flogger. The strips leave pale pink lines on her skin, her Dom creating an almost hypnotic rhythm as he works her over. Back and forth, moving slowly up and down her thighs and bottom, the light touch seems to be soothing as I watch the woman relax into her Dom’s care. I’m wondering at the love I sense between them, the genuine affection that seems to telegraph so loudly, but it’s the entrance of another man that has me quaking in my shoes. He’s wearing nothing but leather pants and a full-face mask. Only his eyes are visible through the black leather, but I begin to throb all over when he takes the stage. What the hell is wrong with me? I close my eyes, trying to picture my fiancé, desperate to remind myself that I love the man dearly. Hell, we grew up together. He’s my best friend. All of my childhood memories revolve around him and his brother. I love my fiancé. I know I love him. I want to leave. This is wrong. I shouldn’t have come here. The loud crack of the whip startles me. My eyes fly open to watch the stage, my gaze glued to the small welt on the woman’s naked buttocks. The whip cracks again, the movement faster than my eyes can follow, another red welt appearing on the woman’s ass as she

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groans. Her skin is already crisscrossed with faint lines, her legs and arms, ass and thighs all red from her earlier flogging, but it’s the genuine pain I can hear in her groans that scares me. I can easily imagine myself in her place. Shit. I unhook my fingers from the Dom’s belt, hoping to slide away into the crowd. I need to leave. I need to think. God, I need something even I can’t understand now. But he grabs my wrist, his movement so fast I can barely react. He turns to me, his eyes assessing me, watching me as he tightens his grip and pulls me closer. “Breathe,” he orders. I gasp, unable to deny his command, barely understanding why I’m so out of breath. He leans forward and whispers something to the sub in front of him. She turns quickly, moving closer to me, gripping my other hand reassuringly. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “That’s my friend Sandra on the cross. She wants to be there. It’s her husband’s wedding gift to her.” The sub smiles and squeezes my hand. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Not until you’re ready, and definitely not while you’re wearing a yellow bracelet.” I can already feel my panic subsiding a little, even as embarrassment washes over me. My reaction was out of fear. The Dom read that correctly, but thankfully neither he nor his sweet sub understood the reason why. I’m not frightened of the whip. No, I’m terrified by how easily I can imagine being strapped to the cross and being in the woman’s place. I came here to convince myself I didn’t belong, yet I’ve learned the exact opposite. How can I still love my fiancé but crave this lifestyle at the same time? ****

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Ryan saw the brief commotion from his position onstage but refused to let it break his concentration. Whipping a sub was dangerous. It required many hours of training and practice, and something as simple as a small distraction could cause considerable damage. It was why he always insisted that the subs wore a stiff corset as added protection for their kidneys. Permanent internal damage was unlikely, but he always preferred safety first. He swung the whip again, this time letting it crack close to the sub’s feet but not actually touching her. Somebody had turned down the music as his demonstration had begun so he heard Sandra’s mewl of disappointment. He smiled behind the mask, glad to be able to hide his expression. The image of being a mysterious punisher was part of the scene. Smiling really wasn’t appropriate. The next swing hit in the same spot, Sandra’s reaction proving that she’d realized what she’d done. Nobody but him dictated when or where the whip would fall. He delivered several more to the same place, this time managing to suppress the urge to smile as Sandra finally relaxed and waited for him to continue when he was ready. He gave her another moment and then swung the whip, the tip flicking just under her butt cheek where her thigh met her ass. She moaned softly as he sent another hit to the same spot, her rapid slide into subspace music to his ears. She shook with her arousal, the lips of her exposed pussy shiny with her juices. He almost envied her husband. The woman was beautiful, passionate, and honest in her reactions. Ryan flicked the whip over and over, his own leathers growing uncomfortably tight as his cock reacted to her arousal. She screamed as the last crack hit, the welt covering both cheeks as she shook with her orgasm. Callum stepped up behind her, dragged open his leathers, thrust his cock into her hard and deep, and fucked his sub in front of the whole club.

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Ryan couldn’t help but smile at them both as Sandra moaned in delight. As wedding presents went, it was rather appropriate for a couple who’d met in this very club just over a year ago. He was still packing up his equipment when he remembered the earlier commotion and glanced over at Mitchell. The Dom was speaking to a woman wearing a yellow bracelet, his sub obviously working to reassure the new woman as well. But Ryan’s heart stopped beating, his breath jammed in his lungs, and his world tilted on its goddamn axis when the newbie turned her face back to the stage.

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Chapter Four “What are you doing here?” The words are angry, ground out through clenched teeth, and so familiar I don’t want to look at the man who uttered them. “Problem, Master Ryan?” “M–Master?” I ask the sub beside me as my whole world comes crashing down onto my head. “Correct,” Ryan says, placing a hand on my jaw and forcing me to look into his eyes. “Answer the question, Mel. What are you doing here?” “I–I–I…” Fuck, this is no time to develop a speech impediment. I almost faint with relief when the Dom I’m with steps between us, breaking Ryan’s firm hold on my chin. “Back off, Ryan,” Mitchell says with maybe a hint of amusement. “You of all people should know not to address one of my subs without my permission.” “That woman is not your sub,” Ryan says in a voice that I’ve never heard from him before. “She’s my brother’s fiancée.” Mitchell shakes his head, not even looking to me for confirmation of who I really am. “She put herself in my care when she came into the club, or have you forgotten that part of the club’s charter? No unaccompanied subs?” Ryan looks angry enough to chew rocks. Holy hell, I am so fucked. There’s no way I’ll be able to convince him not to tell Bradley about me coming here. A very tiny, cowardly part of me is relieved in a way, but it’s a conversation I should have with my

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fiancé. I can’t let Ryan handle something that I really have to handle myself. I wouldn’t be the woman I think I am if I hide behind Ryan like a coward. Mitchell and Ryan take a step away, quietly exchange a few words, and then turn their attention back to me. Ryan doesn’t look happy, but he lets Mitchell do the talking. “Little sub, is what Ryan says true? Are you engaged to marry his brother?” I drop my gaze to the floor and nod miserably. I need to know why I feel this way, why I seem to need more than what my fiancé is giving me, but I never had any intention of betraying him. I wouldn’t do that to Bradley. Mitchell lifts my face again, holding my jaw the same way Ryan had done only moments ago. “Things aren’t as bad as they seem, little sub,” he says with a soft smile. “Ryan wants to talk to you. Do you want to speak to him?” I nod, fighting back tears as I wonder how to explain my presence here at a BDSM club. If I’d known Ryan was a member here, I would never have dreamed of stepping foot in the place. But that raises another question. Why the hell didn’t I know? How can I have known Ryan all my life and not have known he was a Dom? God, I’ve always said Ryan was one of my best friends. How could I have not known who he truly was? Mitchell smiles as he leans over and breaks the yellow bracelet off my wrist. “Relax, little sub, Ryan won’t hurt you…much.” Almost before I can blink Ryan grabs my wrists and wraps leather cuffs around them. They’re clipped behind my back before I can voice my protest. But the words barely form on my tongue before he whispers a warning in my ear. “Not a word, little sub. Attract any attention and I will drag your jeans and panties to your ankles and make you walk through the entire club twice.” I can’t suppress the shiver that gives me. I don’t want to

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be humiliated, but, oh god, just the thought of being put on display like that has my pussy creaming and my clit tingling with need. “Not one word,” Ryan reiterates in a strangled-sounding voice as he grabs my upper arm and guides me through the crowded room. A moment before Ryan drags me through a doorway I finally catch sight of Mitchell and his sub. They both seem to be quite amused by my predicament, but it’s the wink Mitchell sends my way that leaves me confused. Surely they realize nothing can happen between me and Ryan. I’m engaged to his brother, for heaven’s sake. Oh, god. I’m engaged to Bradley. I shouldn’t even be here. “Sit,” Ryan orders as he escorts me into an ordinary-looking office and practically drops me onto a sofa near the door. I do as I’m told, hoping to calm him down long enough to talk rationally. “Ry, I’m sor—” But he cuts off my words with a glare, snatches up the phone, and begins dialing a number. “Please don’t call him.” “One more word, little sub,” Ryan says in a voice that could almost be a growl, “and I will gag you.” I’m on the verge of tears, but it doesn’t soften Ryan’s demeanor. “Ry, please.” He shakes his head, gives me a sad look, and then walks into an adjoining room. I struggle with the cuffs when I hear water running. I can extricate myself from this whole mess if I can just get the cuffs undone. I briefly consider trying to open the door even though my hands are secured behind my back but quickly discard the idea as stupid and probably dangerous. I don’t fancy explaining how I broke my nose when I stumbled with my hands cuffed behind my back. But when Ryan comes back into the room with an item I’ve only ever seen on the Internet in his hands, I’m suddenly wishing I’d gone with the stupid plan.

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I try to awkwardly lever myself out of the sofa. Shit, who would have thought it’s that much harder to get up with my arms tied behind my back? “Stop,” he growls as he steps closer. “Please, no,” I say as he grips the back of my neck. “I’ll be good.” “Too late,” he says as he pushes the ball gag against my lips. I try to hold my jaw closed, but he wraps a hand firmly around the back of my neck and holds the ball part against my mouth. “Give up, little sub. You read the rules. You know I’m allowed to do this.” I try to shake my head. I kind of didn’t read the rules. More like skimmed them, but in my defense I’d already been starting to freak out at my own imaginings by that stage. But my jaw is aching already and our battle of wills is short lived. I try to open my mouth gracefully, pretending that it was somehow my idea, and he secures the ball gag quickly. “Good girl,” he says quietly and then presses a kiss to my forehead. He goes back to the telephone and dials again. Tears fill my eyes as I wait for my fiancé to answer. **** Bradley Griffin glanced at the caller ID on his cell phone and frowned. It was Sunday night. His brother was always at the club on a Sunday night. “’Sup, bro?” He could almost imagine Ryan rolling his eyes at his lame attempt at street slang. “Do you know where your fiancée is tonight?” He frowned at the unexpected question, but his heart kicked to a higher rhythm when some of the more awful possibilities came to mind. “I think she’s at home tonight, or maybe she’s out with friends. I’m not really sure. Why?” “At least she didn’t lie to you.” “Lie to me? What the hell are you talking about?”

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“Perhaps you should come down to the club and see for yourself?” “The club? Your club? As in your BDSM club?” “The very same,” Ryan said in a neutral-sounding tone. “It would appear that your soon-to-be bride isn’t quite as vanilla as you believed.” “Don’t let anyone touch her,” Bradley said as a mixture of fear, excitement, and adrenaline flooded his system. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” “Don’t worry, bro,” Ryan said, throwing Bradley’s lame-ass greeting back at him, “nobody has touched her but me. Although, if she gives me any more trouble, she’s going to get that spanking I told you she needed.” The phone disconnected before Bradley could think of anything else to say. Fuck.

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Chapter Five I can’t stop the tears from flowing as I sit quietly and wait for my entire future to dissolve. I’ve been worried I made a mistake by agreeing to marry Bradley, but in my heart I know that I love him. I never wanted to hurt him this way. Ryan sounds angry as he talks to his brother. I can only imagine Bradley’s reaction, how disappointed he must be to learn I’m not the person he thought I was. Hell, until a few short hours ago even I’d thought I was the person he thought I was. But sitting here with my hands secured behind my back, a ball gag in my mouth, and tears flowing down my face I finally admit to myself that I was wrong to even accept Bradley’s proposal. I believed at the time that a lifetime of friendship was a good basis for a marriage, but all I will do is end up hurting him. “At least she didn’t lie to you,” Ryan says with a small smile in my direction, but then a few quiet words later he threatens to spank my ass. I close my eyes as a need more powerful than any I’ve ever known washes through me. I can actually see myself over his knee, my ass in the air, his hand slapping me harder and harder. I’ve never been this close to orgasm just by using my imagination. God, I can’t believe this is happening. Ryan hangs up the phone without saying good-bye and then heads back into the other room. He returns with a washcloth and sits beside me. I want to protest, but I simply sit still as he wipes the cool cloth over my heated face. Judging by the care he takes cleaning under my eyes, my makeup hasn’t lived up to its waterproof claims. I can feel

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tears filling my eyes again as he unclips my wrists from each other and massages the sore muscles for a little while. I lift my hands to remove the ball gag, but he stops me, holding both of my hands in one of his massive paws as he rubs a finger gently over my swollen bottom lip. For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, and I have no clue how to react. How the fuck does one go about kissing with a ball gag in one’s mouth? But then guilt assails me as I realize I’m sitting here wondering how to kiss my fiancé’s brother. “Rest, little sub,” Ryan says as he slides closer to the edge of the sofa and urges me to lay my head on his thigh. We’ve lain like this before, many times over the years, but this is the first time since I got engaged to his brother. I haven’t even seen Ryan since then. I’m almost glad for the ball gag, because I have a million questions but they can all wait until my fiancé says his piece. **** Ryan tried not to run his fingers through Melody’s hair, but it was a compulsion that wouldn’t be denied. He’d tried so hard to stay away from his brother and his fiancée since they’d made the announcement that it seemed almost a cruel twist of fate that she would end up in his club. He’d tried to rationalize his reaction to their engagement, but the simple truth was that he’d never truly been able to get over this woman. She’d been his first love. As immature and as childish as the attraction had been between them as fumbling teenagers, she was still the woman by which he judged all others. He’d almost believed himself dreaming when he’d spotted her in the club. He’d been lamenting that he’d never find a woman with the perfect mix of selfconfidence and willing submission to suit him, and then somehow the woman who haunted his dreams, his brother’s vanilla fiancée, had appeared right before his eyes.

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He desperately wanted to ask why she was here, but he was afraid of the answer. If she confessed to needing what a Dom could provide, he’d never be able to give her back to Bradley. But he had to hand her back to her fiancé. Ryan needed to get her out of his club before he hurt his brother in a way that could never be forgiven. He wanted to ask why she was here, but he couldn’t risk the answers. No, it was a far-wiser choice to leave the ball gag exactly where it was.

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Chapter Six I lie quietly, trying to explain to myself why I am here, but every answer I come up with no longer makes sense. I was curious. I needed to know. I just wanted to convince myself it wasn’t what I wanted. But all of the excuses that I used to bring me here are no longer valid. I have my answer. Somehow, somewhere along the line between the gangly teenager I was and the confident woman I am now, a strange need has been growing. I’ve become kinky without understanding what that even means. I close my eyes as tears slide slowly down my face and Ryan continues to run his fingers through my hair. I should have admitted my needs years ago. It was wrong of me to agree to marry Bradley when I hadn’t really known who I was. Lost in my own misery, I almost ignore the gentle knock on the door, but I know without even opening my eyes who steps into the room. “Asleep?” Bradley asks his brother. “No, just confused,” Ryan answers as he continues to slowly run his fingers through my hair. Bradley squats down in front of the sofa where I’m lying and touches his warm hand to my face. “I’m sorry,” he says as my heart begins to break. I knew I couldn’t keep him, but I’d at least hoped for the chance to explain before he walked away from me. Fuck, I’m not just losing my fiancé. I’m also losing my best friend. I try to talk around the ball gag, the muffled grunts just making me cry harder. I almost collapse in relief when he sits on the sofa and

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pulls me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his middle and hold on for dear life. I shake all over as he presses a kiss to my head and holds me tight. Ryan’s warm hands caress the top of my head before stopping to undo the ties on the ball gag. I suck on my lips, embarrassed by how swollen they feel. I must look like a complete wreck. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” Ryan says as he gets up off the sofa. “Ry,” Bradley says quietly, “I’d appreciate it if you would stay.” I shake violently as I imagine what’s coming next. Bradley is a great guy. He’ll want his brother to make sure I make it home safely even after he dumps me. I feel Ryan sit back down, and I whimper at the pain slicing through my heart. God, after today I’m going to have nothing—no fiancé, no best friend, no happy future. God, why didn’t I ignore my curiosity? Why the hell did I stumble across these needs now? “Mel, we need to talk.” “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to be strong and failing miserably. God, I am so fucking pathetic. The least I can do is let the man leave me without acting hysterical. At the very least I owe him that much. But he ignores my apology. “Why did you come here tonight?” “I don’t know,” I say reflexively. “Yes, you do,” Ryan says in a voice that clearly dares me to deny it. “I don’t,” I say like a sulky child. The harsh slap on my thigh has me gasping for air, and not only from the pain. Holy shit. My entire body is tingling with arousal from one hit. What the hell would happen if one of them actually spanked me? Right at this moment I’m not really sure I want to find out. “Lie to us once more and I will spank you,” Ryan says, almost as if he stole the thoughts from my head. I whimper at his threat, but it’s my fiancé’s reaction that has me freezing in surprise.

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“Well, would you look at that,” he says, lifting my face until he can see my eyes. “How did I miss something so damn obvious?” “We were too close,” Ryan says, almost as if I’m not in the room. “Even I wasn’t certain until she found her way into the club. I’m pretty sure Mitchell is still laughing his ass off at my reaction.” “You gave her to Mitchell?” Bradley asks, but instead of being angry he just sounds curious. “I didn’t give her to anybody,” Ryan says defensively. “My staff followed the proper protocols for an unaccompanied sub. Mitchell was the Dom on duty.” “Relax, big brother, I’m just glad it wasn’t Robert. That guy always gives me the creeps.” “He’s no longer a member of this club,” Ryan says stiffly. “In fact, I believe he’s currently lying low under the threat of assault charges.” “What happened?” Bradley asks with a touch of urgency. “He ignored Casey’s safe word.” “Is she okay?” he asks as he caresses my spine. I’m grateful that he noticed my agitation but also a little disturbed by what it means. He’s talking about these people as if he knows them. I’m his fiancée. We’ve been engaged for six months. I’ve known both Ryan and Bradley my entire life. How on Earth did I not know they knew people living this sort of lifestyle? “She’s still recovering from the heart attack, but doctors are hopeful that she’ll make a good recovery.” Bradley tenses, apparently understanding something I’ve missed. How did ignoring a safe word end with a heart attack? “I thought EA was banned in this club?” “It is,” Ryan says, sounding angry. “It was a private scene in his home. I suppose we can at least be grateful that he called an ambulance for her. God knows he ignored every other safety issue.” “Is she pressing assault charges?”

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“At this stage no, but Doug and Lachlan have both encouraged her to do so. I know it will bring unwelcome attention to the club, but I tend to agree with them. Casey used her safe word. Robert should have stopped.” I can feel the anger flowing through my fiancé’s body. “I don’t understand,” I say quietly. “What’s EA?” I know I sound sulky and unsure of myself, but I can’t seem to help it. I feel like my entire day has been one long line of confusing revelations. “Sorry, li—Mel,” Ryan says. I’m not really able to see him, but for some reason I get the impression he reached out to touch me and then changed his mind. “EA is short for ‘erotic asphyxiation.’ We banned it in the club because it can cause a heart attack twenty minutes after the scene. Unfortunately, other than making certain that members know of the danger, we really can’t control what happens in private homes.” “But Robert and Casey both knew the risks. Every member of the club knows,” Bradley says, still sounding very angry. “Casey used her safe word before Robert choked her. In my book that’s assault.” “Mine, too,” I say a little bit more loudly than I intended. This time Ryan does reach over and caress my spine with his warm fingers. “We won’t ever let anything like that happen to you, Mel,” Ryan says in the same protective tone he’d used when we were growing up. I want to ask what he means by that, but Bradley’s next words cut me off. “Why wasn’t I told earlier?” Bradley asks, clearly getting angrier as he processes everything he just learned. “You weren’t told,” Ryan says in a low voice that sounds almost as angry as Bradley’s now, “because you walked away from this lifestyle to marry a vanilla girl. Remember?” Vanilla? Huh? Why do they keep calling me that? At least I assume they’re talking about me. As far as I know Bradley only has

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one fiancée. But then the whole reason for him being here slams me sideways. “Wait. You’re a Dom?” “We both are,” Ryan says unnecessarily. I think I might have figured out what he was around about the same time he shoved a ball gag in my mouth. My lying fiancé, on the other hand… “You never said anything. Fuck, you never even did anything to make me suspect.” I climb off his lap and onto my feet, tired of feeling off balance even when I’m sitting down. Damn it! I’ve spent months thinking something’s wrong with me, and instead my loving fiancé has been lying to me the whole damn time. “You assholes. One of you should have said something. Fuck!” Ryan moves so quickly that I barely see him. One moment he’s on the sofa, the next he’s behind me with a firm, nearly painful grip on the back of my neck. “Subs don’t speak that way in my club,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. “Your club?” I ask as he puts enough downward pressure on my neck that I realize he expects me to kneel. I don’t want to kneel. I want answers. I want apologies from them both. I hold myself rigid as the tears start once more. God, I hate fucking crying, but I can’t seem to grab ahold of my emotions at all. Bradley looks ready to protest, but he glances at Ryan and changes his mind. “Yes, little sub,” Ryan says in a low, dangerous-sounding voice, “my club. You came looking for me, for what a Dom can give you.” He squeezes my neck just a little bit harder. “Get on your knees and apologize to your Doms. Convince us that you’re very sorry for your outburst and we’ll consider teaching you what you came here to learn.” I glare at Bradley through my tears, frustrated by his calm demeanor. I thought he was coming here to dump me. I’d had

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absolutely no idea he’d given up this lifestyle to be with me, and the sudden change in direction feels like emotional whiplash. Ryan eases the hold on my neck just a little, caressing my skin softly with his fingertips. “Kneel, little sub. I promise you won’t regret it.” I nod, trusting him, trusting them. In all the years I’ve known them they’ve never failed to protect me. Hell, Bradley walked away from this lifestyle to marry me. Was he protecting me even then? Giving up something he loved because he didn’t think it was what I would want? Awkwardly I drop to my knees, eventually resting my bottom on my heels as Ryan moves around me, adjusting me to the pose that he wants. He steps back toward the sofa and crosses his arms. I drop my gaze when he frowns at me. “I’m still waiting for an apology, sub.” Oh, right. I’m not sure if there’s a specific way to apologize for calling a couple of Doms assholes, so I decide to keep it simple. “I’m sorry, Sirs, for my outburst.” They make me wait what feels like almost a full minute before reacting. I try to keep my temper under control as my patience grows thin. “Much better, little sub,” Ryan finally says, placing his hand on top of my head. His touch is comforting in a rather strange way, but it’s his next words that have my heart leaping into my throat. “Stand up, take off your clothes, and return to this position.” I’m on the verge of another loud outburst, but this time I manage to bite back the words. I glance at my fiancé and wonder what the hell he is thinking. It’s true that both of them have seen me naked at one time or another. In Ryan’s case it was nearly ten years ago. Even if he was my first lover, it doesn’t count now that I’m engaged to Bradley. Surely my fiancé doesn’t want me to be naked in front of his brother. “Do as he says,” Bradley orders. “He’s liable to get his whip out if you delay any longer.” Whip?

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“That was you?” I ask, completely forgetting everything except the incredible control the Dom had shown as he whipped the woman’s ass and thighs. Until tonight I hadn’t even realized that such a thing was possible. I probably still wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. “That was me,” Ryan says with an almost laugh in his voice. But then he turns all hard-assed Dom on me again. “The standard safety words used at this club are the same as a traffic light—green for go, yellow to slow down, red to stop. You have the control, little sub. Use it wisely.” I nod my understanding, very grateful for my research on the Internet now. “The correct response is ‘yes, Sir,’” Ryan says in a voice that warns me not to mess up again. “Yes, Sir,” I say quickly. “Good girl.” I cannot explain why those two words affect me the way they do, but suddenly I feel like I would do anything to please him. How can I be thinking these things about another man when my fiancé is sitting only a few feet away? “Take off your clothes and kneel at my feet right now, or use your safe word and go home, Mel.” I swallow nervously, glancing at my fiancé, trying to gauge his reaction as I get to my feet. Thankfully, Bradley gives me a slight nod, giving me permission to do as his brother says. I still don’t know what this means for us, but it feels like we’re at a T intersection in our relationship. We can turn left or right, but we can’t go back. I quickly pull my jeans and panties off, grateful for the long shirt that still covers most of me. Bradley frowns at me until I slowly reach for the buttons on my shirt. I turn away slightly and drop to my knees quickly in a strangely instinctive effort to preserve my modesty. It doesn’t work. Ryan quickly drags my shirt and bra off me, leaving me bared to them both. Embarrassed, I try to hide behind my hands. He

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simply lifts them away from covering my breasts, clips the cuffs behind my back once again, and then widens my stance so much that I can feel cold air on my wet, slightly open pussy lips. “This is the position we expect every time. No delays. No denials. No covering up.” “Yes, Sir,” I say, keeping my gaze on the floor as Bradley levers himself off the sofa to come stand in front of me. “What are your safe words, Mel?” he asks in a voice almost as intimidating as Ryan’s. “Red to stop, yellow to slow down, green to go.” I can barely breathe by the time I get those words out of my suddenly dry mouth, so it takes a moment to realize my mistake. “Sir,” I add quickly, but it’s not fast enough to stop Ryan’s hand closing in a tight grip on my hair. Holy cow, if that didn’t turn me on so much I’d be truly pissed at him. Even with the slight stinging pain I can feel my nipples pulling tight, my pussy pulsing with my heartbeat, my clit swelling with need. “Your fiancé is going to make certain that you remember to say ‘Sir’ every time you address a Dom.” **** Bradley could see how much dominating Mel was affecting his brother. Ryan had long held the opinion that Mel needed a good spanking, but Bradley had always laughed it off as Ryan just seeing what he wanted to see. But watching the two of them together—the way Ryan reacted to this sub compared to the others he’d played with over the years, and the way Mel reacted to his domination—was both eye opening and a little frightening. They were very literally perfect for one another. Which left him where? Ryan made eye contact with him, indicating with a tilt of his head that Bradley should sit down. Bradley shook his head. “Perhaps it would be best if you deliver this lesson, Master Ryan.” Ryan raised an

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eyebrow in surprise and waited for an explanation. “It’s been a while since my own training, and I wouldn’t want this sub’s first experience to be a negative one.” It probably sounded like a lame excuse, but for how many years had he not seen Melody’s needs? He didn’t want to risk misreading her reactions to a spanking and inadvertently frightening her. Unfortunately, that was only a small part of it. He also wanted to see how Melody reacted to being spanked by his brother. “Very well,” Ryan said with a quick nod of his head. He released the grip he had in her hair, moved his hand to the back of her neck, and then settled them both on the sofa once more. But this time Melody lay facedown over his lap, her beautiful naked body draped over his brother’s knees, her acceptance of Ryan’s authority very obvious.

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Chapter Seven I’m struggling to breathe. The combination of excitement, nerves, and having my wrists tied behind my back is conspiring against me. I should probably say something, but a part of me doesn’t want to break the mood. It’s almost like I’m living out my fantasy and I don’t want to wake up. But Ryan doesn’t slap me. I don’t feel the sting on my ass the way I imagined. He just sits there waiting. Finally I feel a hand at my wrists unlocking the cuffs. “That’s fifteen more, little sub.” Fifteen? What the hell did I do? And thank god I don’t have enough breath to say that thought out loud. I imagine talking without permission would make that number higher again. Ryan’s warm hand rubs over my ass, and I’m shivering just at the realization that this is really going to happen. “Put your hands on the floor,” he orders as he shifts me further over his lap so that my head is hanging lower as well. “This is punishment, little sub. You aren’t going to enjoy this.” I almost giggle. I’ve spent hours upon hours imagining what it might be like to be spanked. I even used the flat side of my hairbrush to redden my bottom once. I intend to enjoy every minute of this. But the first harsh slap changes my mind. “Fuck!” “Be quiet, little sub. The next word will earn you five more.” My lips quiver as I try to process what the fuck is happening. Suddenly the words “baptism by fire” take on a whole new meaning. I never, ever expected something so harsh as my first experience in this world.

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I grind my teeth as the second and third slaps land in the same place. The fourth makes me grunt in pain, and I’m desperately praying Ryan doesn’t count that as a word. I lose count around seven or eight. My very first spanking is just a haze of awful, unrelenting, unexpected pain. I’m too busy crying to realize that the ordeal is finally over. “Shhh, it’s done now, little sub,” Ryan says as he lifts me into a sitting position and wraps his arms around me. I can’t stop shaking, my arms and legs are trembling with fatigue, and my ass is throbbing painfully with every beat of my heart. Fuck. **** Ryan could feel his hands trembling by the time he lifted Melody into his arms and held her close. He was almost surprised that she would snuggle up to him willingly after such a harsh beating, but he was very grateful for it. He’d lost control. He’d let fear rule his reactions and he’d gone harder on her than he would have even on some of the more experienced subs, but when he’d realized she was having trouble breathing, when she’d been gasping for air yet not willing to tell him, fear for her had damn near crippled him. If she’d gone to any other club, if she’d dabbled in the lifestyle with someone inexperienced, if she’d been too frightened, too overwhelmed, too new to use her safe words, she could have died. Fuck, she could have ended up in a hospital bed beside Casey, fighting for her life after an asphyxiation-induced heart attack. His hands shook as he held her close, but it was his brother’s sad smile that damn near killed him.

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Chapter Eight I have no idea how long I slept, but when I wake up I’m still in Ryan’s embrace and my ass is still throbbing. My eyes are so sticky and sore from crying that I can barely open them, so I’m really grateful for the cool, wet washcloth that gets pressed to my face. I’m too tired to do anything but lie there and let whoever is holding it clean the salty residue from my face. “It’s okay, baby girl,” Bradley says as I release a shuddering breath. “I’m going to put you in a cool bath as soon as we can find an empty private room.” I get the impression that was also a type of question to Ryan, because he shifts slightly and says, “Bookings are all computerized now.” Bradley moves toward the desk, taps a few buttons, and asks, “Password?” I feel Ryan’s agitation, and it seems he might want to get up and type it in himself. I wriggle slightly in an attempt to move away from him, but his arms tighten around me and he presses my head to his chest, his large, warm hand splayed over the side of my face, keeping me safe, keeping me close, stirring emotions I don’t understand. “Melody19—all lowercase,” he says quietly. My name and the age I was when I gave him my virginity. Fuck. All these years I thought that I’d been nothing special, just one of many. Is it possible that our fumbled, awkward coupling so long ago was as memorable to him as it was to me? I want to look at Bradley. I want to see his face. I want to apologize for loving his brother as much as I love him, but Ryan

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holds me trapped as some sort of silent communication passes between them. It takes a few moments for Bradley to access the file he needs, but it’s not until he comes back and places a soft blanket over me that I realize I’m shivering. “Room five is empty,” Bradley says as he heads to the door. He goes out and closes it behind him before I can even think to try and stop him from leaving. “I’m sorry, Sir,” I say reflexively, not even certain what I’m apologizing for. “It’s okay, little sub,” Ryan says in a quiet voice. “Please promise me that you’ll never put yourself at risk like that again.” “Risk?” I ask because I truly don’t understand. Does he mean the risk of coming to a club like this by myself? “When I first put you over my lap you couldn’t breathe, yet you didn’t use your safe word. You didn’t try to wriggle into a better position. You didn’t give me any indication that something was wrong. You put yourself at risk because you didn’t tell.” I want to disagree with him. At the time I’d been breathless with excitement, rather than unable to breathe, but I can feel a tremble in his arms that isn’t just the echo of mine. Whatever happened scared the hell out of him. Considering the topic of conversation beforehand, I’m beginning to realize that the harsh spanking had more to do with his need than my punishment. From what he said earlier, he owns this club, and if he’s still the protective type of guy he was growing up, then it’s a good chance that he feels responsible for what happened to the sub who had a heart attack. I just hope he’s worked it out of his system. I don’t think I ever want to live through another punishment like that one. “I’m sorry, Ry,” I say, hoping that by apologizing I make him feel better. “I promise to always speak up if something is wrong.” “Thank you, Mel,” he says, pulling me closer and pressing a fierce kiss to the top of my head. I get the impression he wants to apologize—I know him well enough to sense his disquiet—but I don’t

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want him to say anything. He needs this as much as I do. And, considering the fact that I’m still cuddled up to him, still trust him to keep me safe, and still love him as much as I love Bradley, I’d say my questions have been answered. If I didn’t run from this life after that sort of experience, I guess that means I belong here. **** Bradley was grateful for the chance to take a few quiet moments alone. When he’d gotten Ryan’s phone call he’d almost believed it a practical joke. It was only the fact that Ryan would never joke about something so serious that had convinced him that Melody had indeed wandered into Ryan’s fetish club. He checked the room over quickly, pleased to see that the specialist cleaning crew Ryan had on retainer still did an excellent job, and then headed into the bathroom. Room five was often used for medical fetishes, but as well as the medical examination table, various lamps, and other medical-looking props it also had a variety of spanking benches, a St. Andrews cross, and a fully stocked cupboard of adult toys. Most were single use and disposable, but there were some more expensive items available also. Most Doms preferred to bring their own equipment, but it was good to have a variety of things handy. It was also quite a lucrative income earner. Bradley could still see his brother’s face five years ago when he’d suggested setting up a toy cupboard with the same type of rules as a minibar in a hotel. It had become quite popular, with both subs and Doms suggesting additional items they could stock. Ryan’s receptionist took great delight in finding and sourcing new and interesting toys for the members to try. They weren’t cheap by any means, but since the members of this club paid a small fortune to be members, money wasn’t much of an issue for most of them.

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Bradley moved past the cupboard without opening it. He’d lost count of the number of fantasies that he’d had of bringing Melody to one of these rooms, but the reality was far more complicated. A part of him had known all along that Melody still had deep feelings for his brother, but he’d foolishly tried to dismiss them as just friendship. They’d all known each other for such a long time that it was natural she’d still care for Ryan, yet having watched them together through one of the harshest spankings he’d ever seen Ryan give, it was obvious they were made for each other. The fact that Melody wasn’t running for the door suggested that she understood exactly where Ryan’s punishment had come from. Even without experience as a submissive, Melody knew Ryan well enough to give him what he needed. She’d never once looked like she might cry “halt” to her first spanking. Bradley put the plug in the large bath and turned the cold tap on full blast. It wouldn’t be very comfortable to sit in for long—even with the heat wave they were having—but it would help take the sting out of Melody’s sore bottom. He stared at the cold water as it swirled into a whirlpool and wondered how his life had changed so goddamn quickly.

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Chapter Nine “Bath’s ready,” Bradley says as he comes back into the room. Ryan moves as if to hand me to my fiancé, but nothing happens. I can’t see the silent exchange between the brothers, but I can feel the tension in Ryan’s muscles as he presses my head against his chest and lifts onto his feet. Whatever was said without words has left him almost as tense as he’d been moments before he spanked me. I’m not sure I can handle another go-round just now. I can’t hold back the whimper, not just at the thought of another spanking but at the feeling that I’m causing a problem between Bradley and Ryan. “It’s okay, Mel,” Bradley says as he steps close enough to place his warm hand at the base of my spine. Even through the thick blanket cocooning me I recognize his touch. “We’ll work something out.” I nod a moment before Ryan steps into the hallway and carries me toward the bath. Thank god, Bradley comes with us. We need to talk. I need to explain. I want to understand why they didn’t tell me. There is so much that I want to know, need to know. The cold water is a shock. Gasping for air, I shiver violently even as it soothes my inflamed skin. I have no experience with a spanking like this—well, with any spankings, really—but I suspect I will feel this one every time I sit down for several days to come. Slowly my body acclimatizes to the temperature and I kneel—no way am I sitting—more comfortably. Ryan, arms crossed, leans against the vanity while Bradley kneels beside the bath and touches my face with his warm fingers. “We need to talk.”

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I want to say “no, shit,” but even though it would be my usual response it doesn’t feel appropriate to the circumstances. I nod instead. “I misread your need,” he says sadly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Can you ever forgive me?” “You want me to forgive you?” I ask in shock. “If I’d been a better Dom, I would have noticed and shown you this life a long time ago.” I shake my head, denying his assumptions. “I hid it”—I glance at Ryan, who seems to be grinding his teeth—“really well. I should have said something, but I was…well, I was too embarrassed.” “I’m so sorry that I made you feel that you had to hide it.” “What about you?” I ask, wanting to curl into his embrace but currently too wet, too cold, and, ironically, too comfortable to do it just yet. “You’ve been hiding your needs, too.” And then, because I’m no longer certain of anything anymore, I add, “Weren’t you?” “I was, and I’m sorry for that, too,” Bradley says, obviously willing to carry the weight of blame for every mistake we’ve both made. Ryan moves, and I glance over in time to see him roll his eyes. “Enough with the apologies,” he says impatiently. “You were both wrong. Build a bridge, get over it.” I smile at Ryan’s typical response to touchy-feely emotions. He’s never been comfortable expressing his feelings in a verbal way. Judging by the fact that he owns a BDSM club, I’m starting to realize he has another outlet for his emotions. Thankfully, Bradley doesn’t take offense at having our mutual apologizing session cut short. “Done,” Bradley says with a wink in my direction. “Now what?” “What do you mean?” Ryan asks, very clearly irritated. “The solution is simple. Train your sub, and then the two of you can live happily ever after.” He straightens up, moves away from the sink, and

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heads out the bathroom door. “See you at the wedding,” he says in a very clear indication that he considers that the end of his involvement. Bradley must see the worry in my eyes because he leans forward, presses a kiss to my lips, and whispers that he loves me a moment before getting to his feet and following his brother out the door. “Ry,” he calls from the doorway. Judging by the thump of the door closing it would seem that Ryan made it all the way to the outer door before Bradley called him back. “What?” I hear Ryan ask in that impatient tone he seems to have developed in the past five minutes. “I need your help. I’ve never trained a sub before.” My heart nearly stops beating as I wait for Ryan’s response. I’m not sure what Bradley’s plan is, but I’m really glad that he’s refusing to let his brother walk away. After the experiences the three of us have shared in the past hour or so, I’m seeing myself in a whole new light. They’ve been my best friends my entire life. I can’t let either of them walk away. I’m not sure where this is heading—and I can see disaster at the end if things don’t work out—but I think the three of us need to see it through. Something is happening that seems bigger than us all. And selfish, horrible woman that I am, I want a chance to keep them both. **** Ryan tried to deny the need that pounded through him. Melody belonged to his brother. He couldn’t help with her training and stay sane. It was hard enough to walk away right now when his instincts were screaming at him to claim the woman as his own. Fuck, he wouldn’t hurt his brother like that. Ryan had never seen Bradley happier than when Melody had agreed to marry him. Losing her would devastate him. “Doug trains the subs in this club. Ask him.”

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“I would,” Bradley said with a shrug that looked far too casual to be natural, “but I heard that he quit training now that he has a wife of his own.” Ryan could feel dread pounding through him. He hadn’t been eager to hand over the woman he loved to be trained by someone else, but he at least trusted Doug. He quickly ran through the list in his head of unattached Doms and just as quickly discarded them all. After the incident with Robert he wasn’t willing to trust his judgment at the moment. “You’re the only one available,” Bradley said seriously. “And the only one I trust.” Ryan nodded, swallowing painfully as he tried not to think about abusing that trust. He loved Melody, had loved her most of his life. “Take your fiancée home. Draw up a training contract and meet me back here in two weeks.” Bradley smiled, shook his hand, and then headed back to join Melody in the bathroom. Ryan shook his head as he watched Bradley help Melody out of the bath. Training his brother’s fiancée was going to be the secondhardest thing he would ever have to do. But letting her go was going to be harder…much, much harder.

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Chapter Ten I’m so nervous I’m nearly bouncing out of my skin. For the past two weeks, Bradley and I have discussed everything about the BDSM lifestyle that I ever wanted to know. It’s been so wonderful to have someone who can answer my questions and make me feel comfortable enough to ask them in the first place. I can’t believe I spent so much time hiding myself and my needs from such a wonderful man. I’ve also spent two weeks worrying about Ryan. It’s such a relief to know that in only a few moments I’ll be able to see him again. But when he comes into his office, he’s all business. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all. He doesn’t make eye contact. He doesn’t even look at the lacy corset and skimpy panties that Bradley insisted I wear or even comment on the fact that I am kneeling at my fiancé’s feet in the pose Ryan insisted upon last time. All he does is reach for the contract that Bradley and I have spent hours discussing and writing. Ryan freezes when he reaches page five, but he doesn’t comment. Finally he reaches over, grabs a pen, and goes to scrawl his signature beside mine and Bradley’s. But then he stops, puts down the pen, and moves to lean on the front of his desk, his legs crossed at the ankles in an obvious attempt to appear casual. “Good to see we still have the same hard limits,” he says to his brother with a smile. He finally glances at me, but it’s only to growl, “Eyes down, sub.” I quickly drop my gaze, suddenly very nervous. I keep trying to remind myself that I know this man, but he’s never been quite so intimidating. I shiver in reaction but almost sigh with

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relief when Bradley notices, places his hand on the back of my neck, and squeezes gently. The silence is starting to frighten me. Again the brothers seem to be communicating without actual words. Eventually though, Bradley says, “It was my idea.” I think I understand what part of the contract Ryan is concerned over, but I feel just a little bit smug that he nearly signed it before giving his brother a chance to change his mind. “And you’re okay with this contract, little sub?” “I signed it, didn’t I?” I ask sarcastically. I’m just a little too on edge wondering what will happen next that I completely forget the correct response. Bradley’s hand tightens on the back of my neck, but it’s Ryan’s response that has me wishing I’d listened to all of my fiancé’s warnings. “Up,” he says, lifting me to my feet with a hard grip on my arm. “Bend over my desk.” I’m shivering, barely able to hold my arms locked as he arranges me in the exact pose he wants. Arms braced against the desktop, my ass in the air, and my head down. I can’t deny that I’m actually turned on by this, but it’s the waiting that’s messing with my head. “You heal nicely, little sub,” he says as his fingers travel over my bottom. “Just as well”—I don’t like the sound of the laugh that escapes him—“because I suspect you are going to be one very troublesome sub to train.” He shows me the paddle that he’s chosen from the wall display, and I nearly want to scream my safe word. I shiver convulsively as he rubs the wood over my ass cheeks. “Do you know the correct way to address a Dom when he asks you a question?” I want to lie and say no, but that would make Bradley look bad. He’s spent the last two weeks going over what is expected from a sub in training and I’ve let him down in the first five minutes. Even then I still consider lying—my ass hurt for days last time and Ryan only

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used his hand. How long will I ache from a paddle? Worse still, if I handle this situation badly it might just make him change his mind about signing the contract. I really, really want him to sign the contract. “Yes, Sir, I know the correct way to address a Dom. I’m sorry for forgetting.” “Next time you have the urge to use sarcasm inside my club, I want you to remember this.” “Yes, Sir,” I say, resigning myself to the fact that I need to go through this. I don’t particularly want the pain, but I do want to experience all that the lifestyle has to offer. And to do that, I need Ryan to sign the contract. Yet, still he makes me wait. Fuck, the man is going to drive me insane long before we get to the good parts. Doesn’t he know how impatient I am? Damn. He’s known me all my life. Of course he knows how impatient I am, and the rotten man is using it against me. I let my head drop further, my eyes closing as I seek deep inside me for the patience I’m going to need to get through three weeks of training. The first hit lands on my left butt cheek, and it hurts, it really, really hurts, but I suck in a breath, move my sweaty hands back to the position where Ryan placed them, and wait patiently for the second. But it never comes. “Kneel beside your Dom,” he says as he helps me to straighten up. I almost sag in relief. I want to rub away the sting, but I’m not sure I’m allowed to, so I nod my understanding and return to my position on the floor. I can’t stop the hiss of pain as I accidently press my heel against a very sore spot as I try to kneel down. I almost purr like a kitten when Bradley leans forward and rubs gently across the sore spot. I’m a little disconcerted to realize the paddle has left a strange raised welt on my skin, but I try to ignore it for now. There’s a reason I came looking for this kind of lifestyle. My

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dreams of a perfect future are actually in reach. I don’t want to mess things up now. “Okay,” Ryan says as he leans against the front of his desk once more. “Let’s try this again. Are you happy with this contract, little sub?” “Yes, Sir,” I say respectfully. “Even with the part that says I can fuck you as part of your training?” “Yes, Sir,” I say again, too afraid to add anything else. Ryan and Bradley are doing that silent-communication thing again, but this time I don’t look up, I don’t try to figure out what’s happening. This time I just wait patiently and hope that Ryan signs the damn contract. **** Ryan had spent the past two weeks alternating between dreading and anticipating this contract. Spending time with Melody again was going to be bittersweet, but he’d never expected Bradley to give him permission to have sex with his fiancée. When Ryan had read that part his cock had grown so hard it had taken him several minutes just to talk himself back down. Fuck, considering that he was well known for his control when it came to dealing with subs, it was disconcerting that the woman engaged to marry his brother could make him feel so out of control. Fucking her now was going to make the future awkward—he knew that deep down—but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make love to the woman who still haunted his dreams. He wanted to rub his eyes tiredly, but he didn’t want to show that type of vulnerability in front of his trainee sub, or his brother, so he turned back to his desk, grabbed the pen, and signed his name. Their fate sealed, Ryan sat back, crossed his arms, and turned his attention to the woman he and his brother would share for the next

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three weeks…and silently prayed he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

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Chapter Eleven I’m shivering all over with anticipation, my stomach doing flipflops, but I try to remain outwardly calm as I wait for instructions. Bradley runs his hand up and down my neck affectionately for a moment before lifting to his feet. “Room five?” he asks as he helps me to stand. This part of being a sub is going to take a while to get used to. My legs feel uncoordinated as I try to stand beside my fiancé. Thank heavens he’s there to hold me up. “Last chance to back out, little sub,” Ryan says as he comes to stand in front of me. When did he get so large? Shit, until this very moment, with Bradley behind me and Ryan in front, I’ve never noticed how intimidatingly tall they both are. Add that to the acres and acres of muscles they both own and I am in serious…hmmm…trouble might be the word I’m looking for here, but it sure seems to be the type of trouble I came looking for. “No, thank you, Sir,” I say in my most respectful voice. “I don’t want to back out.” “Good girl,” he says as he lowers his head and kisses me softly on the lips. I’m starting to feel really good about our contract until he turns to Bradley and starts talking like I’m not in the room. “I promised Mitchell that I would check in with one of the new Doms. Perhaps it would be a chance to show off our pretty new pet.” I frown at the word “pet,” but the sting on my left butt cheek reminds me to keep my mouth shut. “Good idea,” Bradley says as he lifts his hands over my shoulders and starts to rearrange my breasts inside the lingerie. My first instinct

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is to push him away, which of course earns me a frown from the man in front of me. “Cuffs?” he asks my fiancé. “Sorry,” Bradley says, not really sounding sorry at all. “I threw away most of my equipment when I decided to pursue a vanilla life.” I know that’s not quite true. Several times in the past two weeks Bradley has shown me his leather cuffs and discussed different scenarios. Whatever reason he has for wanting me to wear Ryan’s cuffs, he hasn’t explained it to me, but the mystery becomes even more intriguing when I notice the differences. The cuffs Ryan places on me are luxuriously padded, beautifully patterned, leather works of art. I sigh softly as he buckles them onto my wrists and then moves to do the same with my ankles. They’re the same ones he placed on me two weeks ago, but back then I’d been too upset to notice the exquisite detail. I suspect that these cuffs will be recognized as Ryan’s by every Dom and sub here tonight. Bradley has just made it clear that, even though I’m wearing his engagement ring, I also belong to his brother. I’m almost too distracted by the lovely idea of belonging to both of them to notice when Ryan folds my arms behind me and clips the wrist cuffs together behind my back. With my elbows bent and my forearms resting against my lower back it’s actually quite comfortable. It doesn’t stop a streak of fear running through me, but I quickly settle when Bradley places his hands on my hips and caresses me softly. I gasp when Ryan starts to undo the front of the corset I’m wearing. I even try to stop him by moving from side to side. “Be still,” he orders as he grabs both of my nipples, squeezing them between the sides of his index fingers and the pads of his thumbs. I stop wriggling immediately, the strange sting causing both arousal and discomfort. Is this pain really turning me on? I sigh as he lets go, but my relief is short lived as he drops to his knees and takes one of my nipples into his mouth. With my hands secured and Bradley behind me I have no way to stop whatever Ryan

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has planned. He sucks on my nipple, fingering the other one as he torments me until my knees grow weak, but it’s the thing that he attaches to my flesh that makes me cry out. “Breathe through it,” he orders. I want to tell him what he can do with his fucking orders, but I grind my teeth and try hard to do what he said. I’m almost comfortable with the slight pain when he attaches the other one. “Son of a—” “Be quiet or I’ll gag you as well.” I’m practically hissing through my clenched teeth. Thankfully, Ryan caresses the undersides of my breasts as he waits for me to gain control. “Good girl,” he whispers as I release a shuddering breath and try to relax. He smiles and presses a kiss to my forehead, and the pain is suddenly forgotten under the avalanche of emotions being here with him and Bradley is creating. “Come on, little sub,” Ryan says as he nods to Bradley. Again there seems to be an entire conversation without words. Bradley grins, grips the back of my neck, and turns me toward the door. That’s when I finally realize they plan to parade me through the club with my tits hanging out. **** Bradley felt the exact moment Melody began to panic. He’d wanted to introduce her to the lifestyle slowly, but it had been Ryan who’d insisted that if she wasn’t ready now, then it probably wasn’t the lifestyle she was looking for. At the time Bradley had suspected it was his brother’s way of trying to scare Melody back into a vanilla life. But now he wasn’t so sure. Exhibitionism was something Melody had agreed to, so arguing with his brother over their current course of action would just prove that he was the one who wasn’t ready.

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“You look beautiful, baby girl,” Bradley said as he leaned to look over her shoulder. “Look down and see how pretty your breasts look. The nipples are ruby red, just begging to be sucked.” He caressed the back of her neck gently, feeling her relax just a little. “Ryan and I want to show the world how beautiful our submissive is. Are you ready?” She glanced sideways, not actually lifting her gaze but clearly seeking Ryan’s reassurance as well. It was clear Ryan was trying to keep his distance, but Bradley was determined to bring him closer to Melody. It was the only way the future was going to work for all three of them, and Bradley had no intention of failing.

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Chapter Twelve I’m terrified. I know I agreed to exhibitionism, but at the time I’d imagined having sex with Bradley or Ryan while another couple watched. I hadn’t even given a thought to the likelihood of being paraded around the club barely dressed. “Sir,” I ask, my voice quivering with nerves, “what if someone tries to touch me?” “They’ll regret it,” Ryan says in a deadly voice. “Nobody touches another Dom’s sub without the Dom’s permission. Not in my club.” I’m really relieved to hear that. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but for some reason I had the idea that I would be groped by hundreds of unseen assailants. I shake my head, trying to clear the wayward thoughts. I read so much on the Internet and discussed so many things with Bradley over the past two weeks that it’s all starting to roll into one very big, scary ball of the unknown. Ryan moves to stand in front of me, and I feel tears prickle my eyes when he tips my chin so that I’m gazing directly at him. “Trust your Doms, little one. We’ll keep you safe.” “Yes, Sir,” I say as I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Good girl.” Bradley slides his arm around my waist and urges me to the door. That first step is the hardest, but once we move into the scene area of the club I realize that there are subs wearing even less than I am. I saw a lot of this two weeks ago, so I had some knowledge of what to

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expect, but it seems that my overactive imagination managed to blow the situation out of proportion. As we move through the club I realize that my thong is completely soaked through. Even nearly scared to the point of immobility the situation is turning me on. How is that even possible? The stuff I read on the Internet sounded sexy, but the reality is so much more intense. Thank heavens for Bradley’s arm around my waist. My knees are weak enough to drop me to the floor. Things just get worse when I notice some of the scenes going on around me. I glance at a scene where two Doms are taking a sub at the same time and can’t suppress the shiver. That could be me between Bradley and Ryan. I feel my arousal leak onto my thighs as I imagine my Doms taking me the same way. “Perfect,” Bradley says as he follows my line of sight and dips his hand between my thighs at the same time. I’m embarrassingly close to orgasm. It’s very clear that my fiancé has noticed. He pushes the crotch of my underwear aside, his fingers thrusting up into my pussy as we watch the scene together. I should be embarrassed. But in this club owned by one of my best friends I’m surrounded by people who understand and share my unusual needs. Hell, I should probably be frightened by what is happening to me, but all I can feel is the incredible sensation of finally finding a place where I belong. **** Ryan watched his brother finger fuck his fiancé as they watched the scene together. His own cock was rock hard as he imagined, and perhaps even remembered, what it was like to be cradled inside Melody’s body. When he’d read page five of the Dom-sub agreement he’d nearly acted on the urgent need to make her his, to sign the

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document and immediately bend the woman over his desk and claim her for his own. Thank god her reaction had forced him to rethink his behavior. He stepped closer and rubbed his hand gently over the still slightly raised welt on her ass. Even in the semidark he could clearly see the word “brat” spelled out on her ass cheek. How many times had he imagined branding her this way? How lucky had he been that she’d immediately given him a reason to do it? The woman onstage shook, moaning as her climax began. Ryan smiled at the trio as Lachlan and Doug quickly followed their sub, Alicia, into orgasmic bliss. Ryan could feel Melody shaking with the same type of nearclimactic arousal. Unable to deny them all the satisfaction, Ryan nodded to his brother, pressed his hard cock against Melody’s hip, and wrapped his hands under her breasts. In a deep voice he ordered, “Come for us, little one.”

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Chapter Thirteen Come for us… Oh my god. I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life. As soon as Ryan issues his order Bradley starts thrusting his fingers harder and faster into my pussy. He moves his other hand to my clit, tormenting the tiny bud. I’m shaking my head, trying not to cry out, desperate to avoid attracting attention, but when Ryan wraps an arm around my chest, pulling me back against him as he grinds his hard cock against my ass, I can’t do anything but obey. And shatter with my orgasm. I try to hold the noise in. I try not to cry out. I try really, really hard not to alert the people around me of what is happening, but the hard tug against the chain between the nipple clamps undoes all my good work. I scream as the pain increases the sensations, my orgasm pounding through me, my body undulating between them, my movements no longer of my own accord. I want to close my eyes. I want to sag into their embrace. I want to sleep for a week. I want a hole to crawl into as I redden with embarrassment. Ryan reads my reaction correctly. He laughs softly as he caresses my areolas without upsetting the nipple clamps. “Soon, little sub,” he warns in a deep, sexy voice. “Soon you’ll crave that attention. You’ll drop to your knees and suck my cock as everyone watches. You’ll present that pussy for all to see and let Bradley fuck you as I fill your mouth with my cum.” His dark words weave a spell around me, the people surrounding us somehow no longer important, my fiancé’s fingers still sliding over my slick flesh as everything else but these two men fades away.

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“Perfect,” Bradley whispers as he finally pulls his fingers from my pussy and raises them to his lips. I watch, completely fascinated as he licks off my cream. I’ve never seen him do that before. It makes me realize just how much of himself he hid from me when he thought I was vanilla. As scared as I am that in the end I might lose them both, I can’t deny the relief I feel that what has happened since I wandered into this club has left Bradley feeling relaxed enough around me to be himself now. He sees me watching and gives me a wicked smile. “Taste,” he says as he presses his finger to my lips. I open my mouth obediently even though I’m pretty sure I don’t want to taste my own cream. I’m actually surprised by the flavor. It’s not nearly as gross as I imagined, thank heavens. Bradley laughs at my reaction as Ryan’s arm tightens around my chest just a little more, holding me more firmly against his hard body, his thick, leather-clad cock pressing between the cheeks of my ass, my hands trapped between my back and his stomach. “I’ll meet you in room five.” Ryan presses a kiss to the side of my neck and finally lets me go. “I’d like to taste for myself,” he says to Bradley. “Perhaps you could prepare our sub for me?” “Of course,” Bradley says as he wraps his arm around my waist again and leads me out of the room. **** Fuck. Could this woman be more perfect for him and Ryan? How the hell had he ever thought she was vanilla? He’d spent months denying his dominant tendencies instead of exploring them with Melody. He’d had some very vague notion of increasing the kinkiness of their sex life over the years, but from where he was standing now, he realized that it would have been disastrous for both of them. Denying who they really were was not a good way to begin a marriage.

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As soon as he stepped into room five he turned Melody around and unclipped the cuffs. She moaned as she let her arms fall to the side, and he spent the next several minutes massaging the muscles in her shoulders and back. “Are you okay, Mel?” he asked, dropping the Dom-sub protocol for the moment. She turned around to face him, her confusion at his question clear in her eyes. “Okay, how?” she asked, watching him closely. “I know we discussed this, but I just want to check you’re still okay with everything we put into the contract.” She reached up and touched his cheek with her warm hand. “I’m fine, Sir.” He shook his head, not really wanting her to call him “Sir” at the moment. “I just want to know that you’re doing this for yourself and for Ryan. I don’t want you to go through with this because you think it’s what I want.” He shook his head again, annoyed at his poor explanation. “God, that sounds arrogant. I just mean—” “I know what you mean,” she said, leaning up to kiss him affectionately. “I am doing this for you, but I’m also doing it for me and Ryan. I’ve loved you both for a very long time. If you two are able to find a way to share me, then I am very willing to be shared.” He laughed softly as relief swept through him. He really hadn’t been looking forward to the awkward family functions the three of them would have endured in the future. When he’d asked Melody to be his wife he hadn’t anticipated sharing her with his brother, but it was the perfect solution for all of them. Now they just needed to convince Ryan.

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Chapter Fourteen “Okay, baby girl,” Bradley says, clearly indicating a return to the Dom-sub protocols expected inside the club, “up on the examination table.” Examination? It takes me a few moments to realize that one corner of the room is set up in a very similar fashion to my gynecologist’s office. Although as I get closer to the table I also notice a few rather glaring differences. I could be mistaken, but I’ve never noticed handcuffs on my doctor’s examination table. Bradley lifts me onto the edge of the table and unfastens the rest of my lace corset. “We need to get these nipple clamps off,” he says, caressing my breasts soothingly. “Brace yourself.” Huh? I stare down at my breast as he unfastens the little piece of metal and caresses the areola. The nipple looks swollen and sore, so I’m surprised by the lack of… Pain! Shit. They hurt more coming off than going on. I’m gasping, swearing under my breath as Bradley dips his head and very gently suckles my nipple, soothing the aching nub with his tongue. Thank god the pain is almost gone by the time he lifts his head. “Ready for the other one?” Hell, no! I might not have said the words out loud, but Bradley obviously gets my answer. He moves his hands to the sides of my underwear, encourages me to lift up slightly, and then drags my panties down my

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legs. Considering how wet they are, I’m actually glad to see them go. He pushes my knees open wide and uses both hands to arrange my pubic hair so that my swollen clit is completely exposed. I’m shivering violently. He’s never done this before, not with me. Hell, no wonder we misunderstood each other’s needs. We’ve been hiding so much of ourselves. He runs his tongue over the aching bud of my clit, throwing my arousal back into the heavens. I’m already shaking, nearing climax when the sneaky bastard undoes the other nipple clamp. I’m groaning from pain and whimpering with need when Ryan comes into the room. “That is a beautiful sound, little sub,” he says as he steps closer to the table. Bradley moves away, leaving me twitching and unfulfilled. God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on—or this annoyed. Ryan smiles at my frustration but simply grabs my legs and spins me so that I can lie down on the table. One at a time he lifts my feet and arranges them in stirrups—ones that seem to hold my legs much wider open than any others I’ve come across. Then he grabs my hips and drags my butt toward the end of the table. When he clips my wrist cuffs to the railing at the side I’m starting to feel very vulnerable, but it’s the straps that go over my hips and above and below my breasts that send my agitation soaring. I very literally can’t move an inch. I start dragging in deep breaths, trying to calm my fear, trying to reassure myself that neither of these men would ever hurt me, but it doesn’t seem to help. Shit. Of all the things I expected to come across, claustrophobia wasn’t one of them. I whimper as I struggle with my confinement. “Shhh, little sub,” Ryan says, leaning next to my head and running his fingers over my face. Looming over me like he is blocks my field of vision, narrowing it to only him. “That’s it, Mel. Breathe through it. You’re safe here.”

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I nod. I know I’m safe. I do. I really do, but it’s not helping to bring my anxiety level down one little bit. I can feel his hand sliding down my stomach, his fingers caressing me softly as he reaches the part of me that aches for him. When Bradley asked me to marry him I thought I’d be able to finally get over his brother, but my reactions to them both proves that it will never happen. Ryan moves slowly, his touch firm, confident, knowing. I sigh as he slides a finger over my clit. “That’s it, little sub,” he says, praising me even though I had no idea I was doing what I was told. I’m still anxious, but now it’s for a completely different reason. “I’m going to shave you, Mel.” He runs his fingers through the damp hairs covering my pussy. “Bradley is going to keep you distracted.” I nod. The anxiety rises the moment he moves away, but Bradley takes his place almost immediately, his loving smile and soft touch to my forehead bringing me back to that place of calm. It’s difficult to process the myriad of sensations as Bradley kisses me over and over, his claim on my lips deep, possessive, familiar, the touches on my pussy strange, unusual, thrillingly new. I gasp, unable to move when Ryan pours a cool stream of water over my shaved skin. I try to wriggle away. The fact that I forgot I’m tied down is almost as shocking as the next rush of cold water over my skin. “C–C–Cold,” I whisper into Bradley’s mouth. He grins, then glances down my body to the man sitting between my trapped legs. “Don’t worry, baby girl, Ryan has a plan to warm you up.” The hot touch of Ryan’s tongue answers my next question. Holy heavens, without the hair everything seems more intense. I swear I can feel each individual taste bud as it rasps over my skin. Ryan licks me everywhere, his tongue gliding over all of my newly denuded flesh as Bradley watches my face. “Perfect,” Bradley whispers again as he leans over to kiss me.

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I can feel my pussy muscles squeezing and releasing as warmth floods through my system. I never considered the satisfaction that pleasing them might create. I’ve always been a pretty independent woman. I’ve certainly never backed away from a fight or allowed myself to be abused, but there is something inherently wonderful about being able to please a man—well, two men—I care for deeply. A whimper escapes me as Ryan unexpectedly thrusts his tongue deep into my pussy, the strange wriggling sensation making my limbs heavy and my breathing shallow as dark arousal flows through me. Every muscle is pulling tight, my entire body tensing, waiting, hovering on the edge of climax. I don’t even realize I’m grinding my teeth until Bradley touches my jaw and shakes his head. “Relax, baby girl. Let it happen,” Bradley says with a soft bite to my chin. “Can’t,” I manage to say breathlessly, desperately. I almost growl when Ryan stops what he’s doing. Tears of frustration prickle my eyes. I’m so close to orgasm, but being held completely immobile seems to be stopping me from reaching my peak. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Ryan begins undoing my bindings. Free from restraints I lie still, feeling deflated, miserable that I’ve failed them. Both men massage my limbs, making certain that the blood flow hasn’t been compromised, before Bradley leans over and kisses me passionately once more. Tears leak from my eyes. “Mel, it’s okay. Don’t cry. We’re nowhere near finished.” “We’re not?” I ask as I try to drag my emotions back under control. I had vague notions of them giving me my clothes back and sending me home. I know both men better than that, but with so much riding on our three-week contract I can’t seem to think clearly. The soft bite on the inside of my thigh has me jolting in reaction. “Not even close,” Ryan says and then dips his head back between my legs.

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Hell. One flick of his tongue over my clit and I’m right back where I was a few moments ago. Oh wow. “That’s it, baby girl,” Bradley says, caressing my tender breasts with gentle fingers. “Come for us.” Finally, that familiar heat swells through my veins, my limbs shaking violently, my breathing shallow, almost painful, as orgasm takes me. I close my eyes, content to ride the wave, loving the feeling of being with Bradley and Ryan this way. The hard pinch on my breast is unexpected, the firm suction against my clit amazing, the sudden blast of heat startling. I howl, literally howl, as both men force my body into the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I’m shaking all over, my arms and legs flailing as I convulse through my climax. Holy fucking hell. I have no control, no understanding, no comparison to this experience. I’m gasping for air, desperate to find an anchor in a world gone mad. I never even… My thoughts drift away as a heaviness invades my limbs, the lethargy stealing my consciousness as I float in a strange space, neither awake nor asleep but somewhere, somehow in between. I don’t even realize I’m crying until Bradley lifts me in his arms, settles in one of the leather sofas, and rocks me gently. “It’s okay, baby girl,” my fiancé says in his familiar deep voice. “We’ve got you.” I whimper in relief when I finally realize Ryan is beside us, his hand wrapped around my ankle possessively, his touch achingly familiar even if it’s been so many years in between. I nod, unable to find my voice as I drift into sleep. **** Ryan watched as the only woman he’d ever loved fell asleep in his brother’s arms. It was clear that Melody had never experienced the

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type of orgasm that had just washed through her. It gave him a ridiculous sense of male pride, but it also raised a lot of questions. “This is why I asked for your help,” Bradley said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve spent so much time hiding who I am that the sex between us has been…well, it’s been good, but there was always something missing.” “Are you sure you want me fucking your fiancée?” Ryan deliberately chose the crude word to say out loud, horrified by the realization that in his mind he considered it an act of love when it came to Melody. “It’s going to make the future pretty awkward.” “Not if you stay,” Bradley said quietly. Ryan shook his head, denying the words he’d just imagined had come out of his brother’s mouth. Surely he couldn’t have heard that correctly. Bradley gave him a sad smile. “Give it some thought. I think you and Mel could be very happy together.” “You’re serious?” Ryan asked in surprise. “Of course I’m serious,” Bradley said, giving him a strange look. “What did you think this is all about?” Ryan shrugged, not certain how to answer. “I thought you wanted help training your submissive.” “Our submissive,” Bradley said very deliberately. “You and Mel are perfect for each other, but don’t think for one moment that I’m planning to walk away.” “She chose to marry you. I would never ask you to walk away,” Ryan said as his mind spun through some of the disastrous outcomes and exciting possibilities such a course of action could bring. It wasn’t like him to be so unfocused, but Melody seemed to do that to him. “What if her interest in BDSM is just a passing curiosity?” He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed by the insecure-sounding question but unable to hide his agitation from his younger brother. “What if, when the contract is over, she decides that life was simpler with her vanilla fiancé?”

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“Then we deal with it when it happens,” Bradley said, sounding far more casual than his body language suggested. “You have a lot to lose if this backfires and Mel is the one to walk away,” Ryan warned seriously. “And a lot to gain if it works out.” Bradley pulled Melody closer, his love for their best friend very obvious in every gentle touch. Fortunately, the woman continued to sleep through their conversation. “Ry, we were happy…we are happy, but something was missing. I think that something is you. Mel needs BDSM, but she also needs vanilla. She’s not a full-time submissive. Even I can see that, but she does need what you can give her.” “You’re a trained Dom. You know what to do.” “True,” Bradley said with a genuine smile, “but I’ve just always considered it a bit of fun. I don’t take it as seriously as you do.” “You could if you wanted to.” “But where would that leave you?” “On the outside, where I belong.” “No,” Bradley said, his anger suddenly flaring. “You have a chance to be happy. We all do. Don’t you dare think like that!” “Whoa, settle down, little brother.” “Don’t little brother me, you asshole,” Bradley said in a dangerously calm voice. “I’m not the one trying to sabotage a good thing before it’s even begun.” “Yeah, well, you’ve obviously had time to think about it. I learned two hours ago that I’m expected to fuck my brother’s fiancée under the guise of submissive training, yet now you’re telling me you want to live a permanent ménage? How the fuck am I supposed to react?” “Grateful, excited, pleased…I don’t know, pick one.” “Grateful? To you? You’re the asshole who stole her out from under me years ago.” Bradley rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not true. You were already pushing her away long before she and I went off to college together.”

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Ryan ground his teeth and refused to comment. He couldn’t really deny it. He’d been barely twenty-two when he’d realized his need to dominate was far more a part of him than he’d first thought. He’d struggled to hide it from Melody, but when Bradley had come home from college without her, Ryan had finally explained what had happened to change things between him and Melody to his brother. Melody had stayed an extra year at college, eventually pursuing career options a long way from home. She’d only come back into their lives a few years ago. And Ryan had never found the courage to explain to Melody what had gone wrong between them. “I was happy for you both when Mel accepted your proposal.” “Me, too,” Bradley said with a more natural tone. “But I was happy for you when she wandered into your club.” He shifted slightly, gazing at the woman in his arms as he spoke. “We’ve both loved Mel our entire lives. Will you abandon her again without giving her a chance to understand?” Ouch. Low blow, but exceedingly accurate. The fear and confusion he’d felt while questioning his own kinky needs still didn’t excuse the way he’d treated Melody back then. He’d broken both of their hearts by being too much of a coward to explain. He shook his head in answer to his brother’s question. No, he wouldn’t abandon her. Not ever again. He just hoped he wasn’t going to hurt her this time by staying.

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Chapter Fifteen I wake feeling surprisingly refreshed. The sunshine streaming through the window, however, is a tad disconcerting. I slept all night? It takes another full minute to realize that the arms wrapped around me don’t belong to my fiancé. “Good morning, little one,” Ryan says as he pulls me closer. I can feel his hard cock pressed against my ass, and I can’t help but moan softly at the delicious feeling. He laughs quietly as his hand slides up my torso, eventually stopping just under my breast. “How are you feeling?” “Good, I think. Embarrassed, maybe. I’m not really sure.” “Regrets?” “No,” I say, trying to roll in his embrace so that I can see his expression. “Well, I kind of regret falling asleep, but only because I cut our night together short.” “So you’re not ready to call us both assholes and run for the hills?” “Why would I do that?” “Good answer,” Bradley says with a wicked grin as he comes into the room. He’s wearing only a towel and has obviously just come out of the shower. “We were talking last night—” “While I was asleep?” I ask, trying to hide my annoyance but doing a lousy job. “Yes, sleeping beauty,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed, “while you were asleep.” He reaches over and brushes the hair out of my eyes, his touch sensual, intimate. “I know you took this week off work to organize some things for the wedding, but I think maybe this

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is more important at the moment.” He rubs at the frown marks on my forehead and leans forward to press a kiss to my nose. “I want you to stay with Ryan this week. Live the life full time. Explore the part of you that you came to his club to find.” “What about you?” I ask as my heart starts to pound painfully. With all the things we discussed over the past two weeks, me moving in with Ryan hadn’t been one of them. “I need to work during the day, but I’ll be back each night.” “But you want me to be Ryan’s sex slave?” I feel Ryan’s cock thicken and harden even more against my ass as I ask the sarcastic question. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with Ryan. It’s just that I expected that…Well, I don’t really know what I expected. This just isn’t it. “Yes, baby girl, I want you to explore everything about this life,” Bradley says, reaching under the blankets to fondle my breast. Ryan moves his hand away in deference to his brother, but it’s where he moves it to that has my breath jamming in my lungs. “We need to find a balance that suits all of us.” Bradley grins wickedly, obviously aware of what Ryan is up to. “For the next seven days you’ll be mine and Ryan’s full-time submissive and we’ll be your Doms. You’ll do what you’re told, when you’re told, and you won’t argue about it. Do I make myself clear?” “Clear? Yes,” I try to say sarcastically, but it’s a little hard to hit the right note when Ryan chooses that moment to shove several fingers deep inside my pussy. “But I don’t think I’m going to like it.” My words are choppy and almost sound like a lie, but I need to get my point across. “You will never know unless you try it,” Bradley says as he leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Now be a good little sub, get on your knees, and pleasure your Dom before he goes to work.” He grips my hand and helps me out of the bed. I’ve never given him a blow job before. Sure, I messed around with a few guys over the years, but I really didn’t know what I was doing. “I don’t know

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how,” I whisper worriedly. What if I let him down? What if I can’t be what he needs? “It’s okay, little sub,” Ryan says from behind me. “We’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Bradley drops the towel, and his hard cock springs free only inches from my face. I sigh as he slides his hand over my neck, fisting the hair at the base of my skull. Fuck, I never realized how excited something as simple as being unable to move my head makes me feel. “Open,” he says as he presses his cock against my lips. I do as he says, opening my mouth wider as he slides deep into my throat. He holds there for a moment, watching me closely as I struggle with my gag reflex. He pulls back out and rests his cock against my lips again. “Close your lips this time and suck on my cock, little sub.” I try to nod, but his grip tightens and I realize my response is not required. As a submissive I’m not expected to agree with my Dom’s orders. I’m just expected to follow them. This time he pushes a little deeper, a little faster, holding me still just a little bit longer. He eases back again, his cock shiny with my saliva as he moves a step away. “What do you think, Master Ryan? Is our little sub learning her lesson well?” “Perhaps,” Ryan says from his position on the bed. Freed from Bradley’s hold, I turn my head to see Ryan has a hard grip on his own cock, his hand sliding up and down the thick shaft. “But I think maybe you should insist that she swallows this time instead of gagging.” “I didn’t gag,” I say defensively. I did a good job controlling my gag reflex. “Did we ask your opinion, little sub?” Ryan asks, suddenly standing beside me, his hand gripping the back of my neck almost, but not quite, painfully. “N–No, Sir,” I say, hoping that by remembering to use the correct title he’ll go just a little bit easier on me.

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“Middle of the bed, facedown,” he orders as he drags the bedding to the floor. With that tight grip he guides me into the position he wants. “Don’t move.” I want to lift my head. I want to see what’s coming. I have no idea what he has planned. But a good healthy dose of self preservation keeps me exactly where he put me, my head turned away from where he’s rummaging in a drawer. I jolt a little in fright when I hear something being unwrapped. I think one of them steps into the bathroom for a moment because I hear a tap running, but he’s back quickly. “Hold her open, Master Bradley,” Ryan says in a deep voice that sends both fear and arousal skittering through me. Hold me open? What the hell does he mean by that? I almost crawl away when I feel Bradley’s big hands press against my ass, his firm pressure prying apart my butt cheeks, exposing my anus to their gaze. I can’t deny the dark thrill that sweeps through me. I’ve long been curious about anal play. I’ve just never had the courage to try it. The cold liquid against my hole is shocking, but I barely have a moment to adjust before something that seems flexible, maybe rubbery, rolls over my anus again and again. “Breathe out, little sub,” Ryan instructs as the thing—a butt plug?—pushes past the tight ring of muscle. I gasp as it widens, forcing open my virgin hole. I whimper as the sting grows unbearable. “Almost there, little sub.” I sigh with relief when my muscles close around a thinner part. Ryan wiggles it slightly, adjusting it to a more comfortable position, setting off nerve endings I’ve never dreamed were there. “Good girl,” Ryan says as he helps me off the bed and back onto my knees. “Now, behave, little sub, and I won’t have to punish you further.” “Yes, Sir,” I say a moment before Bradley once again slides his hand into my hair and his cock into my mouth. He pushes to the back

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of my throat without warning, holding me there, forcing my compliance. “Swallow,” he growls in a tone of voice I’ve never heard from him before. I try desperately to do as he says. “Breathe through your nose and swallow.” I’m grateful for his order. With his cock so deep in my mouth I almost forgot I still have my nose to breathe through. I suck in a deep breath, trying to stay calm as I work to find the muscles necessary to swallow around something my fear tells me will choke me. Finally, I manage to do what my Dom ordered, and he rewards me with a groan. Again and again he slides into my mouth, holding still, waiting for me to swallow before pulling back out and starting over again. Each time he moves faster, slides a bit deeper, forces me to accept just a little bit more of him. He jolts suddenly, pulling his cock from my mouth for a moment. “I’m about to come, little sub. Swallow all of me.” “Yes, S—” His cock stifles my words, his movements more forceful, faster, more urgent. I try to swallow around him, and he groans, releases his grip on my hair, places both hands on my cheeks, and sort of moves so that I can lift my gaze to his. “Swallow, baby girl.” Streams of his cum fill my mouth, the salty taste surprising in its appeal. He caresses my cheeks with his hands, watching me as I lick him clean, suckling his cock as it slowly softens in my mouth. “Thank you, little sub,” he says before he steps away. “Be a good girl for Ryan. I’ll be home before seven.” He dresses quickly, presses a lingering kiss to my lips, and then hurries out the door. A few moments later I hear what I assume is the outer door of the wherever we are thunk closed. I’m still on my knees, butt plug up my ass, shivering with need, and I haven’t been given any orders. I want to turn and ask Ryan what I should do, but I get the impression this is some sort of test. I really don’t think that life as a full-time sub will suit me, yet I find the idea

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of being powerless strangely appealing. It’s kind of what I expected to happen in the club. Maybe not to the same level of intensity, but I think I’m beginning to understand why Bradley and Ryan insisted that we try this for a full week. Before we can make a commitment to such an unusual relationship, we should all understand our own needs. “Good girl,” Ryan finally says. I hear him move past me to the door. “Time for breakfast, little sub. Come.” **** Ryan could see Melody’s natural instinct to argue burning in her eyes. He smiled with pleasure as she nodded instead and slowly got to her feet. Wickedly, he considered ordering her to crawl to the kitchen but dismissed the idea as unnecessarily cruel. He’d never been fond of humiliation. That wouldn’t, however, stop him from using it as a punishment if she pushed him. Bradley had played his part perfectly. They’d known last night that there was a chance of her telling them both to go to hell, so Ryan had been relieved by her reaction to Bradley’s orders. He’d never been particularly fond of the full-time Dom-sub protocols—he preferred a woman willing to make some decisions for herself—but he and Bradley had both agreed it was a necessary step to gauging what might work for all of them. Melody had been interested enough to find her way into a BDSM club. To be that curious suggested that there might be a chance she was looking for a full-time Dom. He certainly hoped not, but by at least living the Dom-sub lifestyle twenty-four hours a day for a full week she should be able to judge from a position of experience. Melody was the only woman he would consider doing this for. If she wanted a permanent Master, then that’s who he would be. He shook his head, nearly laughing out loud at the revelation. Of all the submissives he’d met over the years, Melody was the only one he’d

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be willing to change his own preferences for. No wonder his brother had been willing to live a vanilla life. Simply put, Melody—their best friend and the woman they’d both loved their whole lives—was worth it.

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Chapter Sixteen I follow Ryan into the kitchen and have absolutely no idea what to expect. He didn’t offer me any clothes, and I know enough about Dom-sub protocols to know that if my Dom wants me naked, getting dressed is a very bad idea. I notice he, however, has dragged a lightweight robe over his shoulders and fastened it with a knot in the belt. “Kneel,” he says, pointing to a flat, padded cushion that seems to have been placed there for that express purpose. I’m a little annoyed at being ordered around like a pet, and I do briefly consider barking like a dog, but since I still have a plug up my ass for my outburst earlier I’m not really prepared to argue. My nipples remain a little sore from the clamps last night, and my lips feel swollen thanks to blowing my fiancé before he went to work. As a list of grievances goes, I’ve got a pretty good case for keeping my mouth shut no matter how annoyed and turned on I am. I settle onto the mat, taking extra care to find a comfortable way to rest my bottom on my heels without putting pressure on the butt plug. It’s not my idea of relaxing, but I suppose things could be worse. “You have permission to speak, little sub, but I warn you to be respectful. You will not enjoy the next punishment I have in mind.” “Yes, Sir,” I say in the most respectful tone I can muster. I want to ask what prompted this change in tactics. The last I’d heard we were going to mess around with a few “scenes,” not live the lifestyle full time. Of course, I’m fairly certain his answer will be that my Doms’ decisions are not my concern, so it seems fruitless enough—and

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possibly annoying enough to lead to me being punished again—that I choose not to ask it. He gives me an assessing look, perhaps confused by my previously unheard-of ability to stay quiet, smiles, and then turns back to the kitchen. “Do you have any food allergies, little sub?” “No, Sir,” I reply, trying to keep the curiosity out of my voice. If I know one thing about Ryan, it’s that he rarely says or does something without a reason behind it. “Perfect,” he says as he starts mixing the batter for what appears to be hotcakes. I try not to indulge too often, but I’m quite partial to hotcakes, fresh fruit, and warm syrup. Apparently Ryan remembers that. I sit quietly while he finishes making breakfast. My instinct is to offer my help, but since he ordered me to sit here I’m finding the forced exclusion both annoying and somewhat enlightening. It’s very interesting to watch how confidently he moves around the kitchen. In recent years most of the meals we’ve shared have been family gatherings or me, Bradley, and Ryan at a restaurant. Until I wandered into his club two weeks ago, I hadn’t actually seen Ryan since I agreed to marry Bradley. I’m a little disconcerted when he piles all of the food onto one plate. Perhaps subs don’t get to eat with their Doms? Will the bastard make me watch as he gobbles down my favorite meal before ordering me to clean up his mess and then make my own breakfast? I admit to not having done much research on the day-to-day Dom-sub scenario, but I’m pretty sure I hate it already—well, except for the lesson on how to give a proper blow job. That was kind of hot. “Beside me, sub,” he says as he walks past. “Bring your cushion.” Fantastic. I don’t even get to sit at the table. Although, considering that I’m naked, wearing a butt plug, and a part of me is

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still very wet, I find the idea of actually sitting at the table unappealing as well. Maybe he’ll let me stand. My brief hope is dashed when he indicates with his eyes for me to kneel at his feet. Very carefully I kneel down, groaning softly as my knees creak. Seriously, I’m not that old, but a lifetime of high-impact sports has left my knees a little less durable than they probably should be. “Are you in pain, little sub?” “Not yet, Sir,” I answer honestly. Although, I suspect if I’m required to kneel a lot I could be by the end of the week. He nods in understanding, so I find that semicomfortable spot and breathe a sigh of relief. “Dom-sub protocols can be very intimidating,” Ryan says as he turns in his seat to face me, “but you still have the options to use your safe words. I have no wish to permanently damage my new pet, so I expect you to tell me if something is beyond your physical endurance. Do I make myself clear?” Sheesh, I’m not sure whether to be pleased by his caring or irritated by his assumption that I won’t kick his ass if he actually hurts me. I might be playing the role of sub for two men I care for deeply, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let them treat me badly. “Mind your expression, little sub. If you make a face like that inside my club, I will attach you to the St. Andrews cross and take the whip to your ass.” Holy heavens, as threats go that one isn’t very convincing. I watched Ryan whip Sandra two weeks ago, and it was obvious even to my newbie understanding that the woman enjoyed every moment of it. I suspect by the way that I reacted to both my spanking two weeks ago and the paddle hit I received last night that I kind of like that type of pain. It is, after all, why I sought out a BDSM club in the first place. Ryan smiles at my reaction, shakes his head, and turns his attention to his breakfast. Several forkfuls later I’m salivating at the

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delicious smell of warmed syrup and ready to mutiny over his tactics. I shuffle on my knees before I realize I’m begging like some sort of pet at the dinner table. He notices and holds a strawberry to my lips. I reach up to take it from him, but he shakes his head and waits for me to open my mouth. Suddenly, I’m not hungry at all. Just the smell of the hotcakes and warm syrup is making me feel ill. I can feel the blood draining from my face as nausea takes over. Shit. Talk about messing with my head. I don’t like the way this is making me feel at all. I feel tears prickle my eyes, and damn the man, he notices before I can blink them back. **** Ryan felt like an asshole for making her cry, but he’d never been comfortable with many of the more stringent full-time Dom-sub ideals. Admittedly he’d deliberately pushed all of Melody’s hottemper buttons to try and end this part of the protocol quickly. He’d never enjoyed feeding a submissive from his own plate. To him it felt more demeaning than caring, and by Melody’s reaction it seemed she felt the same way. He’d promised Bradley that they would expose Melody to all this life had to offer so that she could make an informed choice. He didn’t really want to make his own feelings toward this part of the lifestyle known without at least giving her a chance to decide if she liked it or not. “Problem, little sub?” he asked in a neutral tone of voice. She shook her head, but it was obvious she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. He leaned over, caressed her face with the backs of his knuckles, and whispered, “You hate this, don’t you?” For a moment he thought she might lie, but several more tears fell as she nodded her head. “Thank you for being honest, little sub.”

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He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then moved into the kitchen to grab another plate and utensils. He quickly divided the food between both plates and indicated for her to sit down in the chair beside him. When she hesitated, he quickly grabbed a large, fluffy towel from the bathroom and placed it over her seat. She sat gingerly, obviously still adjusting to the butt plug, but she looked much happier. “Better?” “Thank you,” she said as she tried to wipe the tears from her face. “Eat up, little sub. We need to shower and remove that plug before we go down to the club.” “Down? I don’t even remember leaving.” He leaned over and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Last night after you fell asleep we carried you up to my apartment.” “Apartment?” she asked, shaking her head. “I thought you lived in a house not far from Bradley’s place.” “I still own the house.” No way was he explaining the real reason why he no longer lived there. Just the thought of Bradley and Melody living happily ever after in the same district had burned a hole of jealousy right through his gut. “We’re on the top floor of the club. I recently converted it into a self-contained apartment because I was spending more nights here than actually making it home.” It was more or less the truth. The reason why he was staying here sat at the table beside him, but it wasn’t a vulnerability he was prepared to expose—not yet, probably never. He watched her pick at the food, not all that enthused for it himself anymore, either. “Come on, Mel,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go have that shower.”

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Chapter Seventeen I abandon breakfast with the enthusiasm of someone who has just dodged a bullet and seriously doubt I’ll ever enjoy hotcakes and warm syrup again. I have a nasty feeling that the smell will always bring up reminders of this experience, and I truly never want to feel like that again. Thank god Ryan changed his mind. But now I’m beginning to worry that I hurt him by rejecting a part of a lifestyle he lives. He owns a freaking BDSM club. Chances are he swims in the deep end of the BDSM pool. Trying my hardest to sound respectful, I try to apologize for letting him down. “No need to apologize, little sub,” he says as he drags me into his embrace. I go willingly, happy to be held by a man I’m falling more deeply in love with every moment. “I promised Bradley we’d explore BDSM. I said nothing about forcing you to like it.” “But I—” “No buts,” he says with a soft tap on my bottom. “Shower.” “Yes, Sir,” I say as I step under the warm stream of water. “Perhaps we can try again. Maybe if I’m more prepared I won’t freak out on you next time.” “Why would you want to try again?” he asks, tipping my face up to his so that I have no option but to let him see my expression as I try to explain. I really don’t want to try again, but I will if it’s what Ryan wants. “I want to make you happy.” Is that really me talking? Yes, I care for my friends. Yes, my love for this man and his brother is surprisingly deeper than even I realized, but am I willing to subjugate

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a part of myself to suit their needs? My hands begin to shake when I realize the answer is yes. What the fuck is happening to me? When I found BDSM on the Internet and became curious about the lifestyle, I never really considered how it would affect my day-to-day life. Ryan grips the back of my hair, holding me still as he ravages my mouth. The kiss goes on and on, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, his other hand roaming all over my naked body. I can feel his hard cock against my stomach as our passion burns out of control. He lifts his head for a moment. “Are you sure about the ‘no condoms’ part of the contract?” We have each other’s medical records. I’m on the pill. We’ve all agreed it’s something we want. “Yes,” I whisper. His reaction is immediate. He presses me against the tiles, lifts me up, and thrusts straight into my pussy. I gasp as his cock fills me, the butt plug making everything tighter. He holds still a moment, giving me time to adjust. “Wrap your legs around me,” he orders before he starts to slide out of my pussy. I nod, doing as he says a moment before he starts thrusting into me violently, taking me hard and fast, fucking me the way I’ve only ever imagined. I’m shaking, moaning, trying to meet him thrust for thrust when he stops. He slides out of me, letting my feet drop to the ground, his hand still pinning me to the wall. I whimper inside my mind, worried that I did something wrong. He gropes behind him to turns the taps off. “On the bench,” he says urgently, placing a towel over the hard surface. “Wrap your hands around the edge.” This part of the vanity is far wider and much higher than a normal hand basin. The reason becomes obvious when he places me facedown on the padded surface and helps me to brace myself. I am very literally at the perfect height for Ryan. He reaches under me, teasing my clit until it swells, before pushing the sensitive nub hard against the soft towel. I wriggle,

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gasping at the intense sensation as he rams his cock back into my pussy. Holy cow! The fucking is brutal, his need obviously urgent—no wonder he insisted I hold on to the edge—but it’s when he starts playing with the plug in my ass that I realize I’m going to lose it. I gasp, trying to hold my orgasm back, trying to wait for the permission I hope is coming soon, very, very soon. “When Master Bradley gets home he’s going to fuck this ass, little sub.” Ryan pulls the plug out slightly, pushing it back in carefully, the gentleness of the movement in complete counterpoint to his cock thrusting hard and fast in and out of my pussy. “But first we’re going to tie you to a spanking bench and show you what it feels like when it’s not a punishment.” I groan, picturing in my mind the spanking I’ve long dreamed of. My pussy grips Ryan harder, squeezing around him, pulsing with my heartbeat as the beginning of my orgasm starts to slide through me. “Ah, my little sub likes that idea,” he says as he grips my hips tighter and starts fucking me even harder. I can barely comprehend all of the sensations. My pussy is throbbing. My ass is squeezing the plug. My clit is so swollen I can barely think straight. My nipples are crushed against the towel, the friction of the soft material sending lightning bolts of sensation straight to my clit. “Come, now.” I scream as he pinches my clit with his fingers and orgasm pounds through me. Again my body is not my own. My legs and arms jerk violently, heat flooding my system as bright colors burst behind my eyelids. He stills, grinding his pelvis against my ass, his cock so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I finish and he begins. Finally, I collapse against the bench. Like a puppet with all its strings cut, I lie however I landed, giving no thought to moving to a more comfortable position. Ryan leans over me, his weight briefly pressing against me as he moves my hair out of my eyes. I don’t even realize I’m crying until he

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pulls his cock out of my pussy, lifts me into his arms, and steps into the shower once more. **** Ryan washed his little sub down. He had an idea why she was crying, but he used the excuse of getting her clean to try and decide on how to deal with her tears. It didn’t help that he was feeling way off balance himself. He’d known training a woman who’d once been his best friend— and his first lover—would be an emotional experience, but he’d never expected it to affect the way he felt about his chosen lifestyle. Granted, he didn’t want a full-time sub, but he had expected the woman he eventually took on as his collared submissive to play that role most of the time they were together. With Melody he was already missing the easy banter and teasing they’d always shared. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered as he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay, little sub. Bradley knows what we’re doing.” She looked at him, perhaps surprised that he’d guessed her reason for crying. “I know, but it’s still messing with my head. I don’t feel guilty, well, not in a way I would if I was betraying him.” She glanced up at him, her words sounding urgent. “I would never have betrayed him. When I came to this club it was only to convince myself that I didn’t crave this lifestyle.” “That kind of backfired, didn’t it,” Ryan said, unable to hide the indulgent tone. It wasn’t unusual for women to seek out this lifestyle the way Melody had done. For some of them it was the only way to find something they didn’t even realize they needed. “I’m really glad that I wandered into your club. I’m not sure how I would have explained everything to Brad. He’s never given me any indication that he would want to spank me.”

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“A situation he intends to correct,” Ryan said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure it’s the first thing he plans to do when he gets home tonight.” “How did I miss it, Ry?” she asked. “Same way Bradley and I underestimated you.” He leaned over, taking her mouth in a soft kiss. “None of us were being honest about what we needed. That’s already changed.” “I’m sorry I suck at being a full-time submissive.” He grabbed her face in both of his hands, tilting her gaze up to his to make certain he had her full attention. “I’m not,” he said honestly. “There are things about this lifestyle I don’t enjoy. Breakfast wasn’t my idea of fun, either.” He smiled at the confused expression on her face. “Mel, there are things I love about this lifestyle, and I plan to teach you them all, but if I don’t show you everything—even the stuff that I don’t particularly like—then I’m not giving you a chance to experience some things that you might really need.” “There are parts you don’t like?” she asked, sounding very surprised. “Yes, brat, there are parts I don’t like, either.” He ran his hand over the place where he’d paddled his possession on her ass last night. “And there are some things I really enjoy. Finding what works for all three of us is going to be challenging, but Brad seems convinced we can make it work.” “But you don’t agree?” It didn’t sound like an accusation. Perhaps, she shared his concerns. “I’ve lived this lifestyle long enough to know that exploring it can make you see yourself differently. I’ve seen women come through the front door believing themselves to be submissive who’ve instead found a streak of defiance that clearly taught them otherwise. I’ve seen men who thought they were Doms choose an almost vanilla life. I’ve even seen marriages fail when one partner needs this lifestyle more than the other.” He swallowed hard when he thought about the

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way Robert had fooled them all. “And I’ve seen abusive assholes who put their own needs above all other considerations.” “It wasn’t your fault,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He’d gone over and over it inside his head, and he truly couldn’t think of a way that he might have been able to identify someone like Robert through yet another screening process. Robert had been a hard-assed Dom, disliked by many of the subs but adored by others. Casey, a known masochist, had often played with the man simply because he was hard on his submissives. He’d been a good Dom…until he wasn’t. Even the comment Bradley had made a couple of weeks ago wouldn’t have been enough to raise alarm bells under normal circumstances. Robert was a very intimidating Dom, but in a BDSM lifestyle that was what some submissives were looking for. “I do know,” Melody said, holding him tighter. “I know you well enough to be certain that you have a screening system that weeds out the bullies.” “Apparently it doesn’t always work,” Ryan said, happy to hold her even if he should be insisting they go back to the Dom-sub protocols. He’d promised Bradley the three of them would try full time for a week. Standing in the shower talking to his best friend probably wasn’t what Bradley had in mind. “Well, I still believe you did everything in your power to avoid it.” “Thank you, little sub,” he said, glad for her support. “Now brace yourself against the wall and show me that ass.” She smiled, leaned up to kiss his jaw affectionately, and then returned to the role she was expected to play. “Yes, Sir.”

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Chapter Eighteen I glance down at the simple cotton sundress that Ryan has dressed me in. It’s actually quite demure until one considers the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear. But it’s the thing he placed over my clit that has me intrigued. It seemed to take an extraordinarily complicated set of elastic straps to sit it in the right place, but the final result has something pulling gently against the flesh either side of my clit, keeping the tiny nub exposed instead of letting it hide between the upper folds of my labia. It makes it hard to walk naturally, but I suspect it will make it really hard to sit down and keep my legs closed. Considering how short the sundress is, that could be a problem. I almost use my safe word when Ryan lifts a thick leather collar to my throat, but he sees my fear, promises that if I don’t like it that it will be only a one-time thing, and then attaches a tether to one of the D rings on the collar. I can’t tell by his reaction if this is a part of the Dom-sub experience that he likes or not, but I am very grateful for his obsession with safety. He runs the tether down the front of my body to my bound wrists, threads it through my fingers, and then loops the other end loosely around his own wrist. He tugs gently, and the pressure is felt in my hands, not my neck. “Okay, little sub?” I nod. I have tears in my eyes—not from having to wear a leash, but from the caring I can feel coming from him. I’m beginning to get the impression that he’s never enjoyed this part of the Dom-sub relationship until trying it with me. Strangely, believing that gives me a sense of power, despite my restraints. How very weird.

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“Stay close to me,” he says unnecessarily. Did he forget he has me on a leash? He smiles when he sees my raised eyebrow. “Behave yourself and you’ll be rewarded. Give me an attitude like that in front of the other Doms and I’ll make certain you regret it.” The last is said with a smile, but I get the distinct impression that while he might enjoy meting out the punishment he has in mind, I really won’t appreciate being on the receiving end. Ironically, a part of me is still very curious. “Come,” he says with a gentle tug on the leash. We step into an elevator that I hadn’t even realized was there. I’m quite grateful. Even with my hands bound in front of me I don’t fancy tripping down a flight of stairs. I blush furiously when we enter a room where several men in business suits are sitting around a table. Ryan leads me to a padded bench, loops my leash over a hook on the wall, and urges me to sit down. I smile my thanks to Ryan. My knees still feel a little sore from breakfast, so I’m very grateful that I’m not expected to kneel on the floor. Of course sitting demurely is rather challenging. The Dom I met two weeks ago, Mitchell, gives me a wink before turning a grin to Ryan. “I see you have a new pet, Ryan. She’s very pretty.” Considering that I’m currently sporting a full-body blush, I think “sunburned” would be more accurate than “pretty,” but I smile shyly anyway. “Thank you, Mitch,” Ryan says in a dismissive sort of way. It’s clear he doesn’t want to explain anything to the other Dom. Mitchell already knows I’m engaged to Ryan’s brother, and it’s clear he’s curious to know what has transpired since we met. It’s not something I really want to try and explain to anyone. I smile as I realize that as a sub I’m not actually allowed to explain without getting my Dom’s permission to speak first. Since Ryan is unlikely to give it, I don’t need to explain anything at all. Now there’s a benefit I haven’t considered before.

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This meeting is obviously a routine gathering to talk over the week’s events and any issues that may have arisen. Fortunately, it seems to be over rather quickly until one final issue is raised. “Karly James has written another article for the local newspaper,” a Dom named Grant says through clenched teeth. “She was painting us as cowardly wife beaters before, but since Casey decided not to press charges against Robert she’s been more vocal than ever. Her claims of brainwashing are actually making people sit up and take notice.” Ryan rubs a hand across his forehead. “Anything we try to do to stop her will just make things worse,” Mitchell says, looking just as upset as the rest of the men around the table. “Agreed,” Ryan murmurs quietly. “All we can do is ride out the storm. How is Casey doing with her recovery?” “Good. Better than the doctors expected. She’s embarrassed by her sister’s newspaper articles, but anytime she tries to talk to her about them, she gets more accusations of brainwashing. I’ve told Casey anytime she wants to move out of her sister’s home that she can bunk with me. The house is rather empty without Bryce.” The other men remain quiet for a few minutes. I’m not certain, but it seems the fallout from Robert’s actions has caused more problems than just Casey’s heart attack. I don’t even know the woman, yet I feel desperately sorry for her. It’s hard enough to seek out such an unusual lifestyle, but to have it constantly criticized by her own sister must be an awful situation for her. “Have you heard from Bryce?” Ryan finally asks. “He’s okay,” Grant says quietly. “Having Karly James hurl accusations at him in the middle of a public hospital corridor didn’t help. I don’t think it’s the only reason he took the Hong Kong assignment, but Robert better not cross my path while Bryce is away. One stupid, selfish, dumbass decision and Robert changed everything for everyone.”

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“It’s something I’d like to avoid in the future,” Ryan says calmly. “Any ideas on how we can identify Doms like Robert?” “My theory,” Mitchell says in his deep voice, “is that it was possibly the result of pent-up frustration. He’d had a lot of subs use their safe words with him in the weeks leading up to Casey’s attack— even Bianca and Kate safe worded him.” “That’s no excuse,” Grant says angrily. “I’m not making excuses for him,” Mitchell says in that deep, rumbling voice that I’d found so intimidating that first night—and in all honesty still do. “I’m merely trying to identify any warning signs that we missed.” “Have you spoken to Bianca and Kate?” Ryan asks. Mitchell raises an eyebrow and apparently waits long enough for Ryan to realize that was a stupid question. “Yes, I spoke to them both. Bianca says that with Robert she often used ‘yellow’ to slow things down, but Kate has never safe worded anyone. When she first told me, I was glad to hear that she reached a point where she knew to use it. I was even grateful to Robert for pushing her to that point. I’ve long been worried for Kate’s safety. It takes a lot of pain for her to get into subspace, and once she’s there she seems oblivious even to extreme danger. I actually forbade her to play outside of the club.” “Good call,” Ryan says. “How did she take it?” “Quite well,” Mitchell replies with a nod. “I think she realizes that the type of play she enjoys can easily get out of hand. At least with the dungeon monitors around she’ll be protected even if she forgets to use her safe word.” “Can we do that with some of the other subs?” “I’ve already spoken to those at highest risk, but we really have no control once they go home.” Ryan still looks concerned, but he nods and says, “Thanks, Mitch, I really appreciate your help on this.” “Not a problem,” Mitchell answers with a smile. “Many of my clients are members of the club these days.” He holds up a hand,

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perhaps stopping whatever question Grant was going to ask. “All of the subs and even several of the Doms have signed waivers for me to discuss issues that may be a problem inside the club. I have their trust, and I don’t plan to abuse it.” He smiles but breathes out heavily. “It does make it tricky some play nights, though.” “Just as well you’ve got a sub who doesn’t like sharing,” Grant says in a slightly more jovial voice. “Very true,” Mitchell agrees with a wicked grin. They talk for a little while longer and then finish their meeting. I watch as the other men leave quickly, but Mitchell stays behind, clearly curious enough to court Ryan’s annoyance. “Anything I should know?” he asks with a nod in my direction. “No,” Ryan says in that dismissive tone once more. Apparently Mitchell knows Ryan well and isn’t the least bit intimidated by his attitude. “So I don’t need to keep an eye out for irate fiancés?” Ryan breathes out heavily, obviously annoyed at the questions but apparently realizing that he owes his friend an explanation. “Bradley knows what’s going on. For the most part, it was his idea.” “For the most part?” Mitchell asks, managing to keep a straight face. “Drop it, Mitch,” Ryan says irritably. Mitchell holds up his hands in surrender. “Just doing my job,” he says in a rather smug-sounding voice. “You’re the one who made the rule that any Dom who introduces a sub to this lifestyle in your club is responsible for her welfare. I’m just doing what you asked. Making certain the little sub is well cared for.” Ryan runs a hand down his face and laughs softly. “You’re a real bastard some days.” But there is no heat in his words, just the type of brotherly teasing I often see between Ryan and Bradley. “Melody has a contract with both myself and Bradley for the next three weeks. This week she is a full-time submissive with two Doms. We’ll review the situation on Sunday and adjust accordingly.”

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“So Bradley is coming back into the fold?” Ryan nods, grinning widely, clearly happy to have his brother step back into the BDSM lifestyle. Mitchell grins as well and turns to face me. “Well, pretty sub,” he says with a quick glance at Ryan, “it looks like you did what neither of them could do alone. Made them agree on something.” “I think I hear your sub calling,” Ryan says, crossing his arms and trying to look stern. Mitchell grins but doesn’t react to Ryan’s teasing. “You know Haley is going to insist that the three of you come for dinner.” “I know.” Ryan rolls his eyes heavenward. “You really need to stop letting her top from the bottom.” Mitchell smiles but doesn’t deny the inference. It’s kind of hard to believe that such a large and intimidating man would let his sub—his wife, judging by the wedding ring on his left hand—dictate his life, but that seems to be what they are saying. I think I’m looking forward to meeting his wife again. That first night I’d been too intimidated to truly appreciate the woman. “Maybe next week,” Ryan finally says. “Done,” Mitchell agrees with a wide grin. “Haley will be really glad to hear Bradley’s come home.” Mitchell sends another wink my way and leaves the room quickly. “What did he mean by that?” I ask as jealousy worms through me. Why would Mitchell’s sub be interested in my fiancé? “Mind your manners, little sub, or I’ll be forced to give you that punishment.” “Oh, sorry, Ry,” I say quietly. “I mean Sir.” I dip my head, trying to remember what the proper protocols are for demanding an answer from my Dom. I almost growl at the situation. Jealousy is pounding through me and I can’t even ask a damn question. “Green is not a pretty color on you, little sub.” Great, so he knows I’m jealous and I still can’t demand an answer. “Sir?” I ask in a pathetically pleading tone of voice. Crap, I hadn’t meant to sound so whiny. “Ry, please.”

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He smiles, shakes his head, lifts the handle of my leash off the wall, and points to the ground at his feet. I know what he wants, but I’m annoyed enough at him evading my question to consider defying him. “Last warning, little sub. If I take a cane to your ass now, you won’t enjoy tonight’s spanking.” I move quickly, not because I’m scared of being caned—it’s in our contract—but because I really want to experience the euphoria I’ve read about that many women in this lifestyle get from a spanking. It was the thing that sent me looking for more information about BDSM in the first place. “Good girl,” Ryan says as he places his hand on the side of my head and urges me to rest my face against his thigh. It’s a surprisingly comfortable position, and for some reason it makes me feel quite cherished. He caresses his hand over my hair as he sort of answers my question. “Bradley and I have been in this lifestyle for a long time. You’ll twist yourself in knots if you start wondering who we might have played with over the years.” “I don’t have to like it, though,” I say sullenly. “True,” Ryan says, still playing with my hair. “The same way I don’t have to like the idea that you’ve had lovers who weren’t me or Bradley.” I blush crimson at the reminder. All of my recent experience was with Bradley, and Ryan was my first, but there were a few men in between—not many, but certainly not zero. I nod my head against his thigh, not really wanting to talk out loud. It’s hard not to be jealous, but he’s right. What happened in any of our pasts is in the past. “But just for the record,” he finally says, still caressing me lovingly, “neither of us played with Mitchell’s sub. He claimed the woman the night they met, and they’ve been exclusive ever since. Neither of them likes to share.” “So she and Bradley?” “Are just friends.”

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“Thank you, Sir,” I say, feeling very relieved. I’d like to make one friend in this club without having to worry she might have intimate knowledge of my men. Hmmm…it seems I still need to do some work on my jealousy issues. “Stand up,” Ryan says in his bossiest tone. I move quickly to do what he says, gasping when he lifts me to stand on the table. “Lift your skirt to your waist.” I glance at the open door, shaking nervously as I slowly do what he says. The slap on my thigh has me moaning softly. “Next time move more quickly.” “Yes, Sir,” I say nervously as I see several people walk past the windows that look into the scene area of the club. My instinct is to drop the skirt and cover up—or maybe pull it over my head and hide my face—but Ryan is watching me closely and I really don’t want to be punished just yet. I want that spanking experience he and Bradley have planned for later tonight. Ryan glances over his shoulder and then looks up and grins. “Good girl.” His praise sends a naughty thrill through me, but it doesn’t stop my knees from wobbling when he leans forward and presses a kiss to my swollen clit. He wraps his hands around my ass, pulling me closer, holding me up as he starts to lick the oversensitive nub. I’m shivering convulsively, the arousal that I managed to keep banked during the meeting starting to overwhelm me once more. “Sorry to interrupt,” Mitchell says as he comes back into the room. I instinctively drop the front of my sundress over Ryan’s head. He laughs, sucks hard against my clit for a moment, and then steps away. “This one’s going to be trouble,” Mitchell says with a laugh in his voice. “I think you may be right,” Ryan says as he lifts me off the table. At first I think he’s going to put me on my feet, but instead he places my bottom onto the table and tilts the top half of me backward. A part of me resists his nonverbal order, but with my hands bound in front of

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me and his superior strength, he easily overpowers me. With my legs hanging over the edge of the table, Ryan lifts my skirt up to my waist, exposing me to Mitchell’s gaze. “I thought you didn’t share,” I say in a timid voice. Damn it. I was supposed to sound sarcastic. I open my mouth to try again but end up gasping when Ryan slaps his hand against my exposed clit. Holy fucking hell. He holds my legs still as I writhe in both pain and pleasure. How can something like that turn me on? Mitchell grins and responds to my words even though, as a Dom, he probably should have ignored them all together. “There is a difference between watching and touching,” he says as he moves a seat so that he very literally has a perfect view of my open, wet pussy. “Is that one of the new toys Stephanie found at the trade expo?” “Sure is,” Ryan says as he dances his fingers over my pussy and clit gently. “I’m finding this one quite fascinating.” He pushes my legs open even wider. “It comes with both vibrator and butt plug attachments. I think it will be quite popular.” “I think you’re right,” Mitchell says with a laugh. “I also think you should give your receptionist a pay raise. She seems exceptionally good at finding fun toys.” “She’s also exceptionally good at negotiating her remuneration package. She hit me up for a percentage of sales,” Ryan says with a laugh. “She’ll actually make a good deal more than she would have gotten via a pay raise.” He’s still playing with my clit, his fingers grazing over my pussy lips as if I’m not actually laid out in front of two men while they talk casually. I agreed to exhibitionism in our contract, but it was more something for my men than for me. I hadn’t really expected it to turn me on. Even last night in the club it had been dark and nobody watched us directly. I’d climaxed in the middle of a crowded room full of people doing pretty much the same. Last night had been very

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different. Today, in the brightly lit conference room with Mitchell sitting only a few feet away, I’m really surprised by my reaction. I moan softly, trying to remind Ryan that I’m still here without actually sounding like I’m demanding. Ryan reads my intent easily, but the sharp slap on my inner thigh doesn’t really feel like punishment. The second one is unexpected, and when he crams several fingers into my swollen pussy I lift off the table instinctively. I hear Mitchell’s chuckle as he stands up. “I just came back to let you know Haley’s set dinner for next Wednesday. Don’t even think about canceling.” “We won’t,” Ryan says, his fingers still working inside my pussy. Mitchell might have said something else on his way out, but the words are lost as my arousal once again reaches a fever pitch. I’m panting, squirming, whimpering pathetically as Ryan brings me to the peak with only his fingers. But then everything stops. I want to growl—bad, bad sub that I am—but thankfully have no breath available to do it. Ryan stands up, slides me further across the table, presses his palms against my inner thighs, effectively pinning me to the table, and issues a one-word order. “Come.” I nearly scream as he sucks my clit into his mouth, his tongue laving over the swollen flesh. I buck against his hold as he forces my body into orgasm. I can feel heat swelling through my veins, arcs of electricity zipping up and down my spine, shuddering completion working through every muscle. Eventually I collapse against the table, my bound hands reaching for his head as he laves his tongue over my pussy lips, lapping up my cream as I slowly come back down to earth. **** Ryan quickly undid the straps holding the toy in place and rubbed over the skin where the indents marred Melody’s pale flesh.

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“Sorry, little sub,” he said, leaning over to press kisses to her skin. “Next time I’ll make certain the meeting doesn’t go quite as long.” “I’m okay, Sir.” Her voice was breathless, but it seemed obvious that she was a well-satisfied little sub. “Nevertheless, I think an early lunch and then an afternoon nap for you.” He was expecting her to complain, but she was obviously exhausted enough not to argue. Perfect. **** Bradley had trouble concentrating all day. It wasn’t helping his temper that his appointment set for four o’clock was already twenty minutes late. “Rose,” he called to his secretary, “have you been able to get onto Johansen?” “Not yet,” she said in her usual calm, unflappable tone despite the fact that he’d been a grouch all day and the damn phone hadn’t stopped ringing. “I’ll try again in a few moments.” All three lines were lit up, flashing at her as she dealt with him first. “Is it always like this?” “Like what?” she asked, looking surprised. He’d never noticed just how much pressure had landed on his secretary as his business had grown. Apparently, neither had she. The phone lines started beeping at her, reminding her that she had people on hold as she waited for him to explain himself. “Do you have Johansen’s number handy? I’ll call him from my office.” She looked surprised but quickly scribbled the number down for him and then went back to dealing with the phone calls. As soon as his secretary hung up one line it started ringing again. This time he answered it before she had to.

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“Griffin Advertising,” he said, refusing to use the whole greeting he himself had insisted his secretary use. “Answering your own phones now?” his brother asked, obviously in a good mood. “Rose is busy,” he answered gruffly. “So am I. What do you want?” He should probably attempt to be a little nicer to his brother— especially now that they’d decided to try and share Melody on a permanent basis—but he was struggling. Despite the incredible sensations of having Melody give him a blow job this morning before work and the incredible session they’d had at the club together last night, he felt more uptight today than he had in months, and that included the time when he’d had to pretend he pulled Melody’s hair accidentally when they’d been having “vanilla-style” sex. “Are you okay?” Ryan asked in a concerned voice. Bradley shook his head but finally said into the phone, “Just busy. It’s been a long day.” “If you say so,” Ryan said, clearly not believing him, but thankfully he let the matter drop. “I just called to see if we should wait for you before going to dinner. I thought I’d book a table at Sandra’s for seven.” “Sounds good,” he said, feeling a little better already. His own plans had run more along the lines of going home and ravishing his sub until the woman could barely move, but this worked, too. Sandra was not only Callum’s new wife and very happy sub. She was also an amazing chef and businesswoman. Outside of her restaurant she lived a full-time Dom-sub relationship, but she was most definitely the one in charge of her kitchen. Not even the bravest Doms Bradley knew would dare get in the woman’s way when she was cooking. The best part about Sandra’s restaurant was that it was closed to all but close friends on Mondays. It would be a lot of fun to tease Melody under the table without telling her they were surrounded by like-minded people. In fact, he could already feel his cock thickening

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at the idea of finger fucking her to orgasm while they waited for their dinner. “I’ll be there,” he said, trying to keep his arousal out of his voice. “Excellent. We’ll meet you there at seven.” This time when he hung up the phone the line mercifully remained silent. He quickly dialed his client’s cell phone and—thanks to his imaginings of what the night had to offer—was almost lost for words when it finally answered. “Sorry, Rose,” his client said without actually saying hello. “I’m about to step into the elevator. Traffic was murder.” “No worries,” Bradley said, not bothering to correct the client’s assumption that it was his secretary calling, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” “Thanks, Brad,” the client said with a soft laugh. Bradley hung up the phone, sat back in his chair, and forced himself to concentrate on his upcoming meeting rather than the soft sighs and frantic whimpers he expected to come out of his fiancée tonight when he made her orgasm in a crowded restaurant. Damn. He could barely wait.

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Chapter Nineteen I’m both surprised and confused by the way Ryan has dressed me for dinner. It’s almost my normal clothes. Long skirt, long, sleeveless blouse, with a bra and a G-string I recognize as mine. I don’t know who laundered them or when, but I’m quite grateful to get them back. Sitting in a restaurant without underwear just doesn’t seem right. Ryan hasn’t told me to wear a butt plug, or nipple clamps, or a collar, and I still don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we have to leave when Bradley comes up in the elevator. We were expecting to meet him at the restaurant, so I smile my delight at his early arrival. My instinct is to greet him the way I usually do, but his frown at the way I’m dressed stops me. Without a word he indicates for me to stand and then turn away from him. Cool air caresses my skin as he lifts my skirt up and runs his hands over the soft globes of my ass. “Was our sub well behaved today, Ryan?” “Mostly,” Ryan says. I can’t see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice. I gasp at the hard slap that lands on my butt cheek. “Mostly? Mostly isn’t good enough, little sub. You do as your Doms tell you.” “Y–Yes, Sir,” I say shakily. I was expecting a nice dinner, not a harsh spanking. Shit. “We don’t have time to secure you to a spanking bench,” Bradley says in a serious tone as he grabs my hand and leads me over to one of the large sofas in the living area. Before I even understand what he intends to do I’m facedown over his lap. The first few slaps are hard,

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but soon the rhythm changes and I realize this is nothing like the spanking Ryan gave me two weeks ago. Bradley may have used punishment as an excuse, but after only a couple of hard smacks the rest have been different. Finally, I’m getting the spanking I dreamed of. The one that soaks the G-string I’m wearing, coats my thighs in my juices, and leaves me shivering with need. I’m on the verge of an amazing new understanding of the world when the bastard stops. His fingers travel down the crease of my ass, following the string of my underwear to the soaked piece of material. He caresses over the wet silk until I’m wriggling frantically, trying to force his fingers into my pussy, desperate to find relief. I actually growl when he pulls my skirt back into place and lifts me off his lap. “No growling,” he says, gripping my nipples through the shirt and lace bra hard enough to make my knees shake. “You have thirty seconds to freshen up.” He turns me toward the bathroom. “Go, now.” My legs are wobbling so badly I can barely walk. Every step rubs my swollen clit against the material of my underwear. Hell, my devious Doms probably realize how torturous it’s going to be to sit through dinner in a classy restaurant with a swollen clit and wet underwear. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I have an emergency pair of cotton panties in my purse, and I fully intend to make use of them. **** Ryan tried not to grin when he noticed the panty line of unauthorized underwear through the thin skirt. He wasn’t sure who Melody thought she was fooling, but it was obvious that his brother noticed it, too. He nearly laughed out loud at the anticipation on Bradley’s face. Apparently, when it came to playing the role of fulltime Dom, Bradley intended to thoroughly enjoy himself.

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Chapter Twenty I’m really looking forward to sharing a nice, normal meal with my men. Technically we’re still Doms and sub even at the restaurant, but at least I’ll get a small reprieve from the intensity of the last twentyfour hours. I’m still pretty mad at Bradley for making me so damn horny and not letting me finish, but at least I won’t have to sit in a wet G-string for the duration. My plan is rather sneaky, but I fully intend to change back into the G-string as soon as we get home. As long as they let me go to the bathroom first, I should get away with my little deception without them ever noticing. Unfortunately, there is one little thing I forgot. Just as we are entering the foyer of the restaurant, Bradley places his hand on my ass and caresses me softly. I know the jig is up when his hand starts roaming faster, tracing the elastic edge of my full-brief panties. “Ry, it seems our sub’s poor behavior is continuing.” “How so?” Ryan asks with a half laugh. I’m starting to smell a setup. If there’s one thing I know about my two best friends, it’s that they can’t act to save their lives. “Bend over,” Bradley whispers in my ear. I give him a startled look and turn my gaze to Ryan, pleading with my eyes for him to step in. I am not bending over in the foyer of a classy restaurant. “Do as he says, brat.” “You’ll get us arrested,” I whisper urgently. Holy hell, do they even remember we’re not in the club? I color with embarrassment as the hostess comes over to see what the fuss is about. “Can I help with anything?” she asks politely. I

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shake my head quickly, avoiding eye contact, desperately seeking a hole I can crawl into. “Thanks, Haley,” Ryan says with a grin. “I need a wooden spoon.” “What?” I yelp in shock. He just asked the hostess for a wooden spoon…and the woman didn’t bat an eyelash. What the fuck is going on? The fact that she has a brand-new one, still in its plastic under the counter, is more than a little disconcerting. “Bend over,” Bradley says once more. Haley hands over the spoon and goes back to dealing with a phone call, and I’m standing in the foyer—that can’t be seen from the street, thank heavens—still fuming over Bradley and Ryan’s tactics. They could have done this at home. Obviously they knew of my attempted deception long before we arrived at the restaurant. “Drop the panties to your ankles and step out of them.” Okay, that I can do. With a bit of awkward maneuvering I manage to drag the panties to my knees and step out of them without bending over or showing the world my ass. I quickly grab the flower-covered material and try to shove them into my purse. “Nope,” Ryan says. He plucks the cotton panties from my suddenly nerveless fingers and drops them into the garbage bin beside the hostess’s podium. “Now bend over.” I glance around the area, nearly mindless with my need to escape. My eyes finally land on the hostess, and instead of looking appalled she gives me a friendly smile and lifts her hand up to the golden choker at her throat. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s a collar similar to the ones I saw at the club last night. God, was that only last night? But seeing the woman settles something inside me. Ryan called her Haley. Mitchell’s Haley? I think she looks familiar. I’m not in a public place. The only witness to my punishment is a woman who knows what’s going on.

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Bradley apparently takes my silence as consent, places a hand on my hip, and uses the other to push me forward until my hands land on the seat of a chair. I gasp as he flips my skirt up but try to stay still. The first hit with the wooden spoon leaves me quivering with need. Hell, I’m still horny from my spanking at the apartment. The second makes me moan. By the fifth I’m all but climaxing in the middle of the foyer. Fuck, I’m so needy that I want at least one of my lovers buried balls deep no matter who is watching. I try to open my stance a little wider. Maybe one good hit on my pussy lips will send me into orgasm. I don’t even care when I hear the door open. Of course that’s the moment Bradley flips my skirt down and helps me to stand. “Does my little sub understand the rules now?” he asks in a whisper, the smile on his face making me shake with annoyance as well as arousal. I have to swallow twice before I can answer him. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper back with a quick glance at the people who’ve just walked into the foyer. **** Bradley couldn’t believe how much fun he was having. Never in his wildest dreams had he considered that playing mind games with his sub would be so entertaining. Letting Melody believe she was being spanked in the foyer of an ordinary restaurant had been more fun than he could ever remember. The fact that she was shivering, on the verge of orgasm, ready to tip over the edge had made the arrival of new patrons even more perfect in their timing. He couldn’t have asked for better if he’d set the whole thing up in advance. Haley came back to the hostess’s podium, grabbed their menus, and led them to a table at the far end of the restaurant, apparently guessing correctly that they would continue to play throughout their meal.

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Chapter Twenty-One I’m so embarrassed that I don’t even try to look around. I just put my head down and follow Ryan. Bradley stays by my side, his arm around my waist, thankfully holding me up when my knees feel so shaky. Fortunately, Haley leads us to a booth at the far end of the restaurant, and I give her a grateful smile as she hands us menus and takes our drink orders. Bradley orders lemonade for me. To say I’m annoyed is quite an understatement. He knows I always have a single glass of wine with dinner. I’m not a big drinker, but it is something I enjoy. I’m about ready to give him another reason to spank me in public when I finally realize that’s exactly his plan. It takes me a moment to drag my emotions back under control, but I grind my teeth and decide there is no way I’m going to let him win. Eventually I even manage to smile serenely as Bradley and Ryan talk about their days. Apparently my input is not required, so I tune out the conversation and instead concentrate on all of the things I was supposed to do this week. I’ll need to make a couple of phone calls tomorrow to cancel appointments. The warm touch of a hand on each of my knees brings me back to the here and now. I glance around frantically as Ryan and Bradley open my legs wide. Thank heavens for thick damask tablecloths. At least the people sitting around us can’t see what’s happening under the table. “What’s the matter, little sub? Don’t you want your reward?”

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I turn my gaze to Ryan and try not to show how confused I am. Maybe I shouldn’t have tuned out their conversation. Fingers caress the inside of my thigh as Bradley’s hand moves closer to my pussy. I glance around the restaurant again, very aware of how many people can see me. Even if they can’t see what’s going on under the table, they’ll be able to tell just from the expression on my face. “It doesn’t feel like a reward,” I whisper frantically. “Really?” Bradley asks as his fingers glide over the slippery flesh of my aching pussy. “Well, as your Doms we say this is a reward. And since your Doms are always right…” He pushes several fingers into my pussy. I try to wriggle away, but Ryan obviously expected that because his hand is on my lower back, holding me in place as Bradley starts to finger fuck me in the middle of a crowded restaurant. My hips start rocking toward his fingers without my control. My brain is screaming “No!” My body is saying, “Hell, yeah!” I gasp as the first ripples of orgasm wash over me. Ryan grips the back of my neck, holding me still as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and mimics the way Bradley is fucking me with his fingers. I’m trying to hold myself still, trying to hide what’s happening, trying to somehow ride out my orgasm without anyone noticing. Wave after wave of heat washes over me as a mixture of relief and embarrassment slides through my veins. I yelp as one of my Masters pinches my nipple hard. Thankfully, Ryan’s kiss absorbs most of the sound, but I can feel myself blushing all over. I’m still trying to catch my breath and my pussy is still throbbing around Bradley’s fingers when the first course arrives. Holy heavens. ****

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Ryan pulled Melody closer as Bradley excused himself and went into the men’s room. “Are you okay, Mel?” he asked quietly. “Yes and no,” she said, sounding tired. “I think I can honestly say that’s the first orgasm I’ve ever had that I didn’t enjoy.” “Not at all?” he asked, smoothing back her hair so he could see her eyes more clearly. “Well, maybe a little, but it’s not an experience I want to repeat. Every muscle in my body is aching. I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it the way I would have at home.” She sat back, glanced over to where Bradley had disappeared into the bathroom, and whispered, “Please don’t let him do that again.” He sure as hell didn’t want to try and tell his younger brother what to do. When they’d started this endeavor Ryan had assumed that, as the more experienced Dom, he would be leading the way, but Bradley’s enthusiasm suggested that dominating Melody was a far different experience to those he’d had at the club a couple of years ago. “Why didn’t you use your safe word?” Ryan asked quietly. “I didn’t want to hurt either of you.” She bit her bottom lip in an echo of the uncertain, awkward teenager she’d once been. “But I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you both if you get me arrested.” “That’s not going to happen, Mel. Not here.” She gave him a surprised look. “This restaurant is owned by one of the subs at my club. Monday nights Sandra opens it to friends only. Everyone in this restaurant right now lives some form of the BDSM lifestyle.” “Oh,” Melody said, sitting up a little straighter, “that’s a relief. Although I still doubt your friend appreciates us messing around.” “Actually,” he said, taking her hand. He pressed it against the plastic covering the seat. Obviously she hadn’t noticed it as they’d sat down. “Feel that?” She nodded slowly. “This is one of the booths Sandra specifically sets up for playtime on Monday nights. This whole back section is not even available during the week.”

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“Oh, thank god,” she said as Bradley came back into the main area and stopped to speak to an older couple at a table across the other side of the room. “We’re safe here,” Ryan reassured her. And judging by the wicked grin on his brother’s face, that was just as well.

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Chapter Twenty-Two I’m about ready to tear Bradley’s clothes to shreds and have my way with him. Or maybe I’ll just tear him in two. Good grief, I finally managed to relax enough in the restaurant to perhaps enjoy an orgasm, and instead my nasty fiancé held me on the precipice all night and wouldn’t let me come. My teeth are starting to ache, because I’m holding my jaw so damn tight. But instead of following Ryan up to his apartment, Bradley leads me through the dark club and into a room I’ve never seen before. I shiver when I realize it’s filled with various types of bondage equipment. Bradley grins, takes me in his arms, and kisses me until I can’t think straight. I don’t even realize Ryan has joined us until he starts to buckle his leather cuffs around my wrists. “What are your safe words, little sub?” I give them both a shy smile. Why the hell I would feel shy now when I spent the drive home plotting ways to make them pay for getting me this horny I have absolutely no idea, but it doesn’t stop me from blushing. “Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to go.” “Good girl,” Ryan says as he leads me over to a spanking bench that’s almost high enough to lift my feet off the floor. I tremble as he strips my clothes away and then lifts me into place. He and Bradley quickly secure my cuffs, and I try to breathe through the mixture of panic and excitement drilling through me. The first slap on my bottom is a very welcome relief from my own inner thoughts. I’m not even sure who’s spanking me, but this time

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it’s exactly as I imagined it might be. My bottom stings, the heat surging through me to warm my entire body. Gradually they get harder, more frequent, less predictable, the slaps landing on both my ass and thighs. I moan in delight as my arousal starts to peak. “Come for us, little sub,” Ryan says close to my ear. He caresses my spine as Bradley starts slapping me harder, the sting strangely appealing, the ache in my bottom making me tingle all over. I gasp, trying to wriggle away as something hard is pressed against my pussy lips. It’s not a cock. It’s not either of my lovers, but Bradley forces it inside me. I scream as orgasm explodes through me, my pussy pulsing around the strange thing inside. Both men caress me as wave after wave of delicious completion washes over me, but before I can even recover Bradley starts thrusting that hard circular thing inside me. It feels like a ball shape, but I’m quickly distracted from trying to identify it when cold lube dribbles down the crack between my butt cheeks. I undulate against my bonds, knowing what comes next, my experience this morning with a butt plug still fresh in my mind. This time they’re less gentle, pressing the slippery plug against my anus only a few times before pushing it deep inside me. I groan as the muscles are forced open, the sting short lived as Bradley crams the full length inside me. I sigh in relief as my body closes around the end of the plug. “What are your safe words, little sub?” Bradley asks as he moves around the spanking bench to see my eyes. “Red for stop. Yellow to slow down,” I say on a gasping sort of groan as the plug in my ass and the thing in my pussy both begin to vibrate. “Would you like to use your one of your safe words?” Bradley asks as he leans over and presses a kiss to my temple. I manage to

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shake my head, but words seem impossible to form. Hell, the last thing on my mind is stopping. “Good girl,” Ryan says from behind me. I feel him remove the thing from my pussy, moan as he slides his cock into me instead, and practically sing hallelujah when he starts to fuck me hard. Trapped against the spanking bench I can do nothing but take it. I wriggle anxiously when he pulls away, but then Bradley slams his cock into me and starts fucking me even harder. Over and over they take turns fucking me, using me for their pleasure, groaning each time as they pull away. But then everything stops. I’m very literally covered in sweat, every muscle, every nerve, every cell in my body trembling on the precipice of something truly amazing. I whimper as the plug stops vibrating and someone starts to pull it out. It’s quickly replaced by a cock that is far wider. Ryan steps to the side again, his warm hands running over my face as he assesses my reaction. He must have found what he was looking for, because he nods to his brother and Bradley presses the head of his cock into my back passage. Thankfully it’s thickly coated in lube and he slides only a small way in before stopping to let my body adjust before moving deeper. Slowly, inexorably, he fills my ass with his cock. He holds still a few more moments and then starts the gentle slide back out. He’s almost completely out before he reverses the action and slides back in. Over and over he gently fills my ass and retreats. It’s a strange feeling, nothing like I was expecting, but as my body gradually loosens up and accepts him it feels even better. I don’t even notice Ryan undoing my bonds until Bradley lifts me off the spanking bench and holds me tight against him, still impaled on his cock. Ryan climbs onto the padded surface, lying on his back, his legs dangling off the edge and wide enough apart to give Bradley room. Carefully, between the two of them, they lower me over Ryan’s cock, his thick erection pressing into the tight confines of my pussy.

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One moment I’m grinding my teeth from the feeling of being stuffed full and the next I’m flying into orgasm. Holy fucking hell. My pussy and ass are squeezing the cocks inside me, both men are moving, thrusting into me, one in one out, always full, always moving, always shaking with their own need. I can barely breathe between them, but my legs and arms are shaking wildly, energy exploding outward as my orgasm goes on and on and on. Almost at the same time Bradley and Ryan push to the hilt inside my body, their cocks throbbing as they fill me with their seed. Slowly, very slowly, I start to come down from the explosive high, my muscles twitching as deep exhaustion slithers through me. I fall against Ryan, my face resting on his chest, his rapid breathing strangely soothing as I cling to him and close my eyes. I’ve never felt an emotional connection like this before—not even with these two growing up. I groan with Bradley as he pulls his cock from my ass. I’m waiting for him to kiss me, to perhaps cuddle me close as he carries me into the shower, but he pats my bottom and says, “Very good, little sub. That was fun.” Fun? I glance over my shoulder, but he’s already walking away. I just had the most amazing emotional experience of my life and he describes it as fun? I quickly close my eyes against the tears that fill them, but Ryan sees. He wraps his hand around the back of my skull, pulling my face down to rest on his chest as misery overwhelms me. He holds me close as I quietly cry out my confusion. **** Ryan held Melody tightly, running a hand soothingly up and down her spine as she cried. He had no idea what the hell was going on inside his brother’s head, but he was acting both way out of character

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and like the Dom he’d once been. But he’d always adored Melody— even when they’d been naïve kids—so his reversion to his old “just having fun” behavior now was completely unexpected. As the shower turned on Melody gave up trying to cry quietly. Sobs wracked her body as she poured out the grief that she was feeling. He wasn’t certain exactly what was going on, but Bradley’s sudden emotional withdrawal didn’t bode well for the future. Barely twenty-four hours into their contract and everything was going pear shaped. How the hell were they supposed to sustain this sort of relationship for the rest of their lives? **** Bradley’s hands shook as he twisted the taps on and stepped under the water. He couldn’t even explain the situation to himself, let alone stay and watch as Ryan comforted their sub. Physically he’d shared subs with other Doms before, but this was the first time he’d felt such a powerful connection. And of course, instead of staying where he was, cuddling the woman he loved, he’d panicked and left the room. What the hell was wrong with him? This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

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Chapter Twenty-Three I wake as Bradley rolls me onto my stomach, lifts my hips slightly, and slides his cock straight into my swollen pussy. I moan, grateful to him for at least using lube. After last night’s three-way I’m not certain I ever want to have sex again, but it seems my Dom isn’t giving me a choice. He fucks me hard and fast, his cock throbbing inside me as he pumps his cum into my body. He leans over to kiss my neck, the soft suction quickly becoming uncomfortable as he marks my skin with a love bite. He pins me to the bed with his weight and then wriggles a hand underneath me, unerringly finding my clit. Again and again he teases the little nub, holding me down as my orgasm overwhelms me. I’m panting for breath and heat is still bouncing through my veins when he rolls off the bed and moves into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, dressed and ready for work, he presses a kiss to my forehead, admonishes me to behave for Ryan, and leaves the room without a backward glance. I actually flinch when I hear the elevator door close. “Go back to sleep, little sub,” Ryan says as he pulls me into the cradle of his body, my back to his front. “Tuesday is technically my only day off, and I plan to spend a good part of it just holding on to my little sub.” “Ry?” I ask quietly, truly hoping that he isn’t offended by what I’m about to ask. “Would it be okay if we dropped the Dom-sub stuff for today?”

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“Not having fun?” he asks in a curious voice. He doesn’t sound angry, so I try to explain at least some of what is swirling through my head. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “There have been parts that I’ve enjoyed”—even the part where I got spanked with a wooden spoon in the foyer of a restaurant—“but I miss the emotional connection to Bradley. Until last night I’ve never doubted that he loves me.” “He loves you,” Ryan says immediately. “I promise you that.” I bite my lip, not arguing but not really convinced, either. “What was he like as a Dom—before he gave it up for me?” “Are you sure you want to know?” “No,” I say, shaking my head, “but I think I need to.” Ryan shrugs. “The subs liked him.” I grind my teeth, trying not to think of my fiancé playing with naked women who weren’t me—even if it was years before we got together. “He was strict but fun. I don’t think he ever took it too seriously, though.” “Never?” I ask curiously. For many people the BDSM lifestyle is a necessity, a way to find satisfaction in their lives. When I first realized that Bradley had given it all up to pursue a vanilla life with me, I’d felt really guilty. I hadn’t intended for him to feel he should hide that part of himself from me. But what now? Have I gained a Dom and lost the man I love in the process? Okay, yes, I know it’s “dramatic much,” but I just can’t shake the feeling that he’s pulling away. “We’ll figure it out,” Ryan says, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. Apparently he knows me well enough to read my mind, because the next thing to come out of his mouth has me smiling. “Don’t you dare overthink this.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Now go back to sleep, Mel. That’s an order from your best friend.” “Yes, Ryan,” I say, snuggling deeper into his embrace. ****

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Bradley was in a foul mood. For a man who’d had more sex in the past two days than he had in the previous three weeks, he should have been feeling rather good. But no matter which way he looked at it, the reason for his bad temper could be laid squarely at his fiancée’s feet. Well, no, that wasn’t really accurate, either. It was the situation his fiancée’s needs put them in. He’d known almost from the moment of that damn phone call that Melody and Ryan were better suited to each other than he and Melody were. He should have just stepped away then and saved himself the heartache. But no, he’d gone and suggested Melody try a relationship with both of them. And then, as if that wasn’t dumbass enough, he’d gone and suggested full-time, highprotocol Dom-sub relationships. The trouble was that he was thoroughly enjoying it. When he’d suggested this course of action he’d had the vague idea in his head of Ryan dominating Melody and him providing the vanilla-style break that she would need. He’d never guessed that he would end up wanting a full-time Dom-sub lifestyle, but that’s exactly where he was. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He knew, absolutely knew, that Melody didn’t want to be a full-time sub, but with two Doms demanding high protocol, how long was their relationship going to last? He shuffled the file folders on his desk, his agitation increasing when he couldn’t find the one he sought. “Rose!” he yelled to his secretary. “Where the hell’s the file for the Johansen’s sports chain?” There was a brief silence, and then Rose marched into his office, grabbed a folder from the top-left corner of his desk, and handed it to him. “Speak to me like that again and we’re going to have a problem.” She said it with a smile on her face, but he didn’t doubt her words for a second. Rose was a damn good secretary. She didn’t deserve, nor would she put up with, his temper. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. He

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considered offering an excuse, but he’d always tried to keep his home life and his work life separate. And maybe that was his biggest problem. Playing the Dominant had always been a fun interlude for him, but he’d never even considered making it his full-time lifestyle—until that damn phone call. It was obvious that Melody responded well to being dominated, but she also needed her freedom. She wasn’t a fulltime submissive no matter how much he and Ryan might want to live that life. Maybe the kindest thing Bradley could do was take a step back. At least with only one Dom she’d get a little bit more time to be herself. He sat at his desk, staring at the file he no longer wanted to read, and wondered again how his life had spiraled out of control so damn quickly.

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Chapter Twenty-Four I take a deep breath when I hear Bradley come into the apartment. I’m in the kitchen, fully clothed, cooking dinner for the three of us. I know it’s not what he’s expecting. Hell, it’s way outside the rules we established only a couple of days ago, but I feel too vulnerable on an emotional level to be naked for this talk. And, well, cooking naked is never a good idea, either. He looks surprised, but instead of commenting he continues past the kitchen and into one of the bedrooms. “Go talk to him,” Ryan says quietly. “I’ll finish making dinner.” “Thanks, Ry,” I say, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. I want to apologize for screwing things up so badly. I thought I knew what I wanted. The idea of submitting to both Bradley and Ryan seemed so exciting, but the reality is so different. How can I want both my old and new lives at the same time? “Brad?” I ask as I step into the bedroom, where he’s getting changed out of his work clothes. “It’s okay, Mel,” he says, not even looking at me. “You don’t need to explain. I was planning on going home tonight anyway.” “What?” I ask, feeling a little bit bewildered. “Why would you go home?” “Mel, you can’t honestly tell me this is working for you.” “Well, no, it’s not working for me yet, but we’ve only just started. It takes time to sort these things out.” “You and Ry are perfect for each other.” I nod carefully. Yes, Ryan and I are finding our places in a new relationship, a mixture of BDSM and vanilla. So far it’s working, but

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a lot of that has to do with the fact that we keep talking things through. Since signing that contract I feel like Bradley and I haven’t actually had a conversation. In fact, come to think of it, we haven’t had a conversation that didn’t require Dom-sub protocols. “It’s okay,” Bradley says. For a moment I think he is going to embrace me, but instead he moves into the closet and starts packing his stuff back into his suitcase. “Mel, I’m not going to force you to live a lifestyle you don’t enjoy.” “But I do enjoy it,” I say urgently. I had no idea that returning to a vanilla type of lifestyle temporarily would hurt him so badly. “Most of it. I just…” Fuck, I can’t find the words. I can feel his resolve, and one thing I know about my fiancé is that once his mind is made up it’s very difficult to get him to change it. “Don’t do this to yourself, Mel. I want you and Ry to be happy.” I twist the engagement ring on my finger. No way in hell am I taking it off until I know for sure that I can’t be the submissive Bradley wants me to be. “I’ll try harder,” I say, swallowing my pride, willing to say and do just about anything to get him to stay long enough to sort this through. “I know you would, Mel,” he says as he finally pulls me into his embrace, “but it’s not fair of me to ask it.” “Forget fair. You’re my Dom. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” “I want you to live a happy life with my brother.” I swallow hard, refusing to cry. I thought I knew him better. I thought Bradley would give me time to adjust, to learn, to become what he wants me to be. And instead, he finds me fully dressed just once and he’s willing to throw away years of friendship and our plans for our future. Anger burns low in my gut as I push my way out of his embrace. “Fine. Run away. If this is how you react when I break the rules just once, then you can…” My words trail away. I almost told him to

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“go to hell,” but I love him too deeply to be that callous. “You can go find some mindless sub to dominate.” He looks confused. “Why would I do that?” “Isn’t that what you want?” “Hell, no,” he says with a small laugh. “The only woman I’ve ever wanted to dominate is you. I’m just surprised that I want to do it all of the time.” “All of the time? Is that why you pulled away last night?” I ask, worrying again about his reason for the emotional withdrawal I sensed at a moment when I’d been feeling so connected to both of my Doms. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says. “Last night was the first time I realized I crave this life. I’ve always just thought of it as a fun time before. I never really considered it necessary to my happiness until I played with a woman I love. I want to be your Dom all of the time.” He runs his hands over my fully clothed ass and whispers, “But I think I could be happy with ‘most’ of the time.” “Really?” I ask quietly. He nods, but I feel like I have to explain some things. “So far I love most of what this life has to offer, but I have hit a couple of limits that we need to discuss. I don’t like being fed from my Dom’s plate and I’m not thrilled by the idea of wearing a leash, but I’m willing to compromise. I love you. Please give us a chance to work this out.” “I love you, too, baby girl,” he says solemnly. “And I don’t like feeding a sub from my plate, either.” He touches my face, brushing the hair from my eyes as he gazes at me. “We’ll compromise on the leash.” He searches my face, his expression one of contrition. “I’m sorry for getting spooked. I honestly thought I knew what to expect when we signed the contract.” He laughs softly. “But we can definitely find a middle road. Perhaps set out some boundaries that we all adhere to. Things like where, when, what topic.” “Are you disappointed that I’m fully dressed and not kneeling at your feet tonight?”

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“Kneeling? Not really. I love playing with you, and most of the time I can’t stop thinking about ways I might be able to get you to break the rules so I can leave my mark on your beautiful bottom.” “You want me to break the rules so you can spank me?” I can already feel my clit swelling at that idea. It seems that Mitchell’s prediction that I’m going to be a troublesome sub is right on the money. “Not always. However, I do want to be your Dom all of the time, but between me and Ryan you’ll quickly become annoyed at us telling you how to live your life.” I practically throw myself back into his arms. “Actually, I think that might work for all three of us. Ryan doesn’t want to be a full-time Dom.” “He doesn’t?” Bradley asks, sounding really surprised. “But he owns a BDSM club.” I shrug and then cuddle closer. “It surprised me, too, but it’s the way he wants to live. It’s true that I mostly enjoyed our vanilla life together, but I need your domination, Brad. There has to be a way to make this work that suits all three of us.” He laughs softly again as his arms tighten around me. “We’ll find a way, baby girl. I don’t ever want to lose you.” “Same here,” I say as I snuggle closer. **** Ryan listened from just outside the doorway to the bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad that Melody and Bradley had found a way back to each other. He knew he and his brother could make her happy. “Actually,” Ryan said to his brother as he stepped into the bedroom, “I think I have a suggestion that would suit all of us.” He held his hand out to Melody. “Would you like to try it?”

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Without even asking any questions, Melody placed her hand in his, her faith in him more precious than any other gift he’d ever received. “I love you, Mel.” Ryan noticed the reassuring way Bradley squeezed her other hand. She wasn’t in the middle of a tug-of-war between brothers. She was right where she belonged. Pressed between them. “I love you both.” “Perfect,” he said when his brother smiled.

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Epilogue I rush into the house and drag my shoes off as soon as I reach the bedroom. It’s taken several months to work through the difficulties of such a complicated relationship, but I feel like we’ve weathered the worst of it. “You’re late,” Ryan says in his bossy-Dom tone of voice. He’s already dressed in his leathers, and if I’m not mistaken the clothes— or parts thereof—lying on the bed are what he expects me to wear. “Sorry, Ry,” I say. “Work was a disaster zone.” “Everything okay?” he asks, stepping closer to touch my face. I love the way he’s always willing to talk things out. After the near disaster in the early days of our unusual relationship I really appreciate the fact that Ryan insists that we avoid misunderstandings. Even if it’s as simple as knowing each other’s moods from work. Never again will I assume I know what’s going on inside my men’s heads. Talk. That’s the biggest part of keeping this relationship we share from imploding. “Just the usual merger pains, I think.” I’ve been really busy since the company I work for has been taken over by another larger business in the same industry. It’s been an unsettling time for many of the people I’ve worked with over the past few years, but I’ve found it rather invigorating. It probably helps my mood that the new boss noticed the talents my old boss ignored and quickly gave me a promotion and substantial raise in pay. As career steps go, staying right where I was seems to have been a good choice. “Where’s Bradley?”

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“Running late as well. He really needs to hire more staff, especially if his business keeps growing the way it has.” “True,” I say as I step into the shower. Ryan follows me into the bathroom but leans against the vanity as I give him a quick rundown of my day. “Are you going to be okay tonight?” “Of course,” I say as I turn off the taps and step into the towel he has waiting for me. “I love Friday nights.” “If it ever gets too much for you…” “I will tell you,” I promise in a very sincere voice. No way, no how, never, ever, ever is bad communication going to ruin my relationships. Once bitten and all that. “I love you,” Ryan says. He grins when he hears Bradley come into the bedroom. “Perfect timing, Brad. I was just about to tell her about our little change in plans.” “Change in plans?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. We always play at the club Friday nights. Inside the club and Ryan’s apartment above it, I’m a full-time submissive to two bossy Doms. Some weekends we play all the way to Sunday night. Other weekends we come home and spend some quality vanilla time together. It’s challenging with the different hours we all keep work-wise, but we make it work. I’m usually flexible enough to change with the moods of my husbands—well, our marriages might not be official, but I claim them both as mine—but I was looking forward to relaxing into their care tonight. Now that Bradley is no longer worried about overwhelming me with his needs it’s become a very satisfying part of the relationship for all of us. “Yes, baby girl, we have a surprise for you,” Bradley says with a wink. “As soon as I have a shower we’ll get going.” Well, now I’m really intrigued. At least, I am until Ryan parks his car in the usual parking spot under the club. I’m actually feeling a little annoyed. When they said

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change of plans, I thought they meant an actual “change in plans,” not the same place, same time as every other week. “Ready?” Ryan asks as we step into the elevator. I shrug. So far my surprise isn’t really surprising. I’m not even startled by the fact that we skip the floor to the club and ride the elevator all the way to Ryan’s apartment. We’ve done that more than once over the past few months. But when the elevator door opens and I find the living area full of the friends I’ve made at the club—both Doms and their subs—I’m a little more interested. I want to ask what’s going on, but I know the rules. In this apartment I am their full-time sub—a fact that is reinforced when Bradley strips off my coat to reveal the deep-pink corset that actually puts my breasts and nipples on display instead of hiding them and the matching G-string that I’m wearing. Ryan quickly buckles my cuffs onto my wrists and ankles, secures my arms behind me, and then leads me over to kneel in front of Mitchell. He places a hand at the back of my head, angling my face down in a very obvious display of subservience. My breath catches in my throat. I don’t understand what’s happening. Surely they don’t intend to share me with anyone else—least of all Mitchell, who is well known for being happily married and faithful to his wife. “Little sub,” Mitchell says as he places his hand on my head possessively. “I introduced you to this lifestyle many months ago. By the rules of the club, I am responsible for your welfare.” Okay, that I did know. I’m not sure why I forgot. “Master Ryan and Master Bradley have asked for permission to make your union official. Do you consent to be their part-time submissive and full-time wife?” “I do, Sir,” I say as tears fill my eyes. I hadn’t expected them to do this without asking me first, but it does fit the relationship we’ve begun to build. I’m actually very happy that both men feel secure enough in my love to know my answer would be yes.

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“Do you promise to love and honor and be faithful to Master Bradley and Master Ryan for the rest of your life?” “I do, Sir.” Mitchell leans over, lifts my chin so that I’m looking up at him, and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Well done, little sub,” he whispers. “I know the three of you will be very happy together.” And then he announces to the group of people gathered around, “Let it be known that from this day forward Melody Jeffers officially belongs to Ryan and Bradley Griffin.” He winks in my direction. “And that they both belong to her.” Both of my men step closer and help me to my feet. Ryan smiles happily as Bradley shows me a beautifully crafted necklace. To the rest of the world it will seem to be just an attractive piece of jewelry, but to the people in this room it means so much more. Ryan lifts my hair out of the way as Bradley secures the thick chain into place and then closes the tiny lock. I smile as every doubt I ever had about this lifestyle dissolves. I know I will never forget the sound of that lock being closed. Such a tiny noise to signal the official beginning of an unusual marriage, but it’s a union that all three of us are determined will last the rest of our lives.

THE END RACHELCLARKEROTICROMANCE.BLOGSPOT.COM  

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Rachel loves romance in all its forms. She writes contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, and science fiction in MFM, MFMMM, MMF, and lots of other different pairings. Her one unbreakable rule is that every story must have a very happy ending.

For all titles by Rachel Clark, please visit www.bookstrand.com/rachel-clark

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com