Three-Part Harmony (3 page)

She glanced down at herself and shivered again.

Ohhhh boy.

She heard him come back in, lock the door, shed his jacket, and turn back toward the couch. His steps were steady, determined—until he came around the couch and saw her. He halted hard. A huff rolled out of him, almost as deep and dangerous as his next charge.

“Dasha, I thought I said naked.”

“Sorry!” she
blurted, scrambling fingers for her lace thong. But before she could get a grip on the band, he caught her by the wrist and pulled her back up.

“No.” He pivoted her around, away from him. “Now you do it my way. Kneel on the couch, legs apart. Now lean forward a little. Spread your arms, then dip your head between them. Good girl. Very good. Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

His voice barely sounded like him now, its register infused with sensual smoke. Those tendrils swirled through her with such magical force, her body seemed to melt—though everything exploded into rocket fuel again as he grabbed her panties at one hip and ripped them in half. He trailed the backs of her legs with his fingertips as he shoved the lace all the way off, igniting more streaks of sensation that shot straight between her legs…the legs he now urged apart by pushing his thumbs against the insides of her upper thighs. As he did, Dasha bit her lip and tried, unsuccessfully, to keep a groan in.

“Lovely,” David murmured. “Keep those coming, sweetheart. I want to hear every reaction you’ve got for me. The louder, the better.”

Dasha frowned. Loud? He wanted her to be loud, here in the middle of the Garden’s backstage? “But—”

He pinched both her ass cheeks. “Doubting me already, sweetheart?”

“N-no. Of course not. But—what if someone—oh!”

The protest fled her as he pinched her again, a little more gently this time but digging closer to the intimate grotto of her vagina. She’d never felt a man’s fingers on her
there,
like that
—
but her own reaction stunned her the most. Against all logic or thought, a moan erupted. Adrenaline spiked in her bloodstream. She arched and shoved herself back at him, almost daring him to do it again. Almost
wanting
him to do it again. Oh God, especially now, as he brushed the skin he’d just inflamed, turning every cell into honey-warm heat.

“David,” she cried. “Oh God, David!”

“Who?” he prompted as he trailed those fingers deeper. Lower.

“S-sir,” she managed, shuddering as he scraped his fingernails up and down her rear cheeks.

“Beautiful.” He kept teasing her with his touch. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re more beautiful than I’d hoped or imagined.”

This was insane. This was magical.

And got even more so the next second, when he dipped a hand again and entered her in one sweep of a long finger.

“What’s this? Your pussy likes this, Dasha. It’s pulsing around my finger. And you’re wet, my dear. Very, very wet.”

“Yes.” It was more a plea than concurrence. “Yes!” She threw back her head as he pushed a second finger in.

“Head down, please.” Steel returned to his tone as he dived a hand into her hair and realigned her head between her shoulders. “I love the way you look right now, sweetheart, so ready and submissive. I’m going to enjoy the view for a minute. Maybe a couple. Get comfy.”

He pulled his hand from her scalp and trailed it down her back, digging at her skin with his fingers. His touch savored her, desired her, consumed her. Her knees started to weaken. Her nerve endings sparkled. He cupped his other hand over her mound while he kept those two fingers so deep inside her pussy. He circled them rhythmically, branding her intimate walls with his touch. She struggled to think about what was happening. This was David: her manager, her friend, her confidante—but right now, it wasn’t. This person, sheathed in the physical shell of him, was an unknown entity to her. A leader in a new world. A commander in a dark, beautiful battlefield between her logic and her senses.

He raked her spine again, claiming her with increasing pressure, burning tracks of possession with his fingers. She felt his desire with every fresh inch he marked, and lost another piece of her senses with every searing sweep.

Until he flipped the world again.

He did it with a fluid sweep, pulling her upright with one jerk, spinning her to face him the next. His grip on her elbows was an anaconda squeeze. Against her naked skin, every thread of his clothes pressed and teased, a silken assault on her senses. His gaze delved into her, equally penetrating.

“Crossroads time,” he said, his voice shocking her for a second with its jagged edge. “And our direction is your choice, sweetheart. I’m going to be clear about what happens if we go on from here. I want you so badly, my full Dom is coming out to play. We’ll set up the rules. You’ll have a safety net, but there’s going to be a lot of me you haven’t seen before. So if the little taste you’ve had so far isn’t
your
dream, I understand. You just need to say so, and you can get dressed and walk away. No harm, no foul.”

He let silence stretch after that. But he relented on nothing else: not his stare, his grip, or the sexual heat that penetrated to her very marrow. Dasha blinked and pulled in a breath. Here it was.
“The crossroads,”
he’d said.
“Your choice, sweetheart.”
Crap, crap, crap. In a way, she thought they’d already gone past this and realized she was relieved that David had effectively taken the choice from her hands…because wasn’t that what dominance implied? But now she recognized that for the false hope it was. This decision was still hers, and it had to be made for the right reasons. Because of David and this new man inside him she’d only peeked at—and longed to see more of. Not because of Dad and the man in
him
she no longer knew.

Could she really do it? These few minutes had been just a taste. Hell, what was the whole meal like?

Honest response? The answer terrified her.

But honest response, part two: it also thrilled her.

And in the moment of reaching that realization, she compelled herself to reply.

“I’m not leaving,” she told him. “I want this. I want
you.
Please, David…Sir…I want this.”

David stared into Dasha’s upturned face and selfishly absorbed the golden perfection of her features. He’d been her manager for five years, had witnessed her passion in the throes of performances, her charm with reporters, her joy in meeting her fans; they were all incredible moments…but none compared to this. None matched the heated desire in her caramel eyes, the longing in her biting at her lip, the tentative tremble of her chin. Seeing this from other subs had always been a heady intoxicant, but this—Christ, this was the best drug on the planet.

Okay, yeah, she was still afraid of what she’d just agreed to. Maybe more than afraid. But he vowed he’d take that trepidation and turn it into the most shattering satisfaction she’d had with a man. Her trust really did work like a drug, jacking his bloodstream with excitement, turning his brain into an erotic space shuttle. Because now he finally had the chance to take out one of his most closeted yearnings: the chance to have this with Dasha.
For
Dasha.

It was a dream he never thought he’d realize. He’d learned not to air such things when they contained the sexual fantasies even HBO producers wouldn’t touch. He’d fast discovered, upon finding his kink gene in college, that girls called him “Prince Charming” at first base but bolted like he’d become Cyclops at third, after even the gentlest suggestion of an alternative position to “The Big Three.” Even after discovering the beauty of D/s ten years later, he found those girls grown into women who still loved crying “Cyclops” if he even hinted at a little Power Exchange. So he’d shoved his truth into a compartment, hiding it from most of the world. Even from the woman with whom he longed to share it the most.

Dasha.

And now here she was, his breathtaking, submissive dream come true.

No. Not a truth. Not yet.
She still had no idea what she’d just signed on for.

The enormity of it didn’t escape him. He needed to do this right. To give her this in all the right ways. That was going to take two acts of God. First, he had to control the wildfire he’d once known as his cock. And second, there’d be teaching Dasha to connect the opposite way, guiding her to disconnect the mental defaults and let her lust take the driver’s seat of her body for a while.

He couldn’t wait.

He was scared shitless.

“Again,” he directed, though his tone was now a buzz saw, conveying his need as much as his command. “Say it again.”

Without a beat, she spoke. “I want you. I want this. Show me. Please. Tonight. Now.”

He couldn’t help but smile, running a thumb along her lips, treasuring her conviction and adoration. It doubled his confidence as well as the satisfaction of murmuring his next words.

“Then on your knees again, darling.”

Only then did her nervousness show again. She hesitated a tiny second, conflict skittering across her face. David watched, fascinated anew by the pause between her reason and her need, and he wondered—prayed—which would win. The triumph was heady when she descended for him once more, a shaky gesture signifying that she too seemed to get what her act meant and what a gift it was to him. He had no idea how she knew; to his knowledge, she hadn’t been boning up on Submission 101.

Christ. That left the hope, however obscene, that she had the deviant gene too.
Impossible. Don’t go there, you dumb fuck. Way too impossible.

He drove the thought out completely by setting his sights back on the woman, such a stunning fantasy come to life, in front of him. “Thank you,” he murmured, running a hand across the top of her head. “You please me already. And you honor me.”

Dasha peered back up at him. No smile now. But she whispered, “I’m glad.”

Two words. Yet they made him gulp. Yeah, damn it, he
gulped.
He almost wished she’d start back again with the sass, because he had no idea what to do with the wild need her sweetness flung open inside him. How much longer could his composure stand this? He longed to go ahead with his original plan, to start his domination by getting his hands deeper into her hair and his cock at the back of her throat. God knew, every cell in his balls and shaft screamed for it too. But this wasn’t a situation for the usual routines.

Nothing about being with Dasha would ever be routine, ever again.

He knew that with instinctual surety, even now.

“David?” Insecurity laced her brow and matched the insecurity in her prod. “Sir? Is—”

“Hush.” The command came gently, but he emphasized by tugging at her scalp. The action pulled her face back, upturned to confront his stare now. Another thrill shot through his blood. Jesus, she was gorgeous like this: a little scared, a lot naked, and completely his. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. All
you
worry about is how to please me with this incredible body. Listen carefully, and obey sweetly. Understood?”

Again, she blinked a few times, ginger lashes fluttering, clearly acclimating herself to this different version of him. But she quickly smiled and whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

He couldn’t resist rolling his hand a little, letting her thick, golden waves surround his fingers…the way he yearned for other parts of her to cushion him too. “I know it’ll take some getting used to,” he said, again tethering the part of him craving to bust out with a command and get her all the way under him. “This isn’t a familiar dynamic for you. But you’re a good learner. And I’m a
very
good teacher. Tough but good.”

To emphasize those last three words, he increased his hold by another degree. He expected an oath to explode off her delicious lips, but she moaned instead. The sound was filled with feral force, pure sensual awakening.

“Oh yeah,” David said. “Let that stuff fly, sweetheart. Give me as much of your
non
verbal magic as you want. Groan it. Scream it. Sing it.” He shifted his other hand to the side of her neck. “I love every sound that comes out of this throat, especially when it’s for me.”

“Oh.” The response fell out of her on a sigh this time. Her eyes drifted shut, like she’d fallen into a dream. “Yes…Sir.”

“Good girl.” He stressed it by dipping an open kiss to her mouth. When he finally released her, he circled to stand behind her. She shivered again as he slipped his hands to her shoulders, pressing her skin with steady care, using nonverbal language of his own.
Mine. For tonight, you’re finally all mine
. He knelt himself now, cupping her breasts, pressing his chest against her spine. Her shiver became a tremor. She arched as he explored her nipples, coaxing their sweet erections, her body begging him for more.

“I love the way you bead up for me.” He said it into her neck as he gazed over her shoulder, watching his fingers trace her puckered areolas. “Look at these hard little buds…so rosy and red.” He took one harder, rolled it from side to side, then pulled. He savored her sharp, protesting cry. “Hmm, and sensitive too. We’ll have more fun with that knowledge later.”

As he took a turn at the other breast, she writhed. “David,
damn it
!”

This time, he did let out a low growl—right before he dropped that hand and swatted the side of her thigh. “Where’s my eager student? Don’t prove me wrong now, darling.” Beneath his lips, her throat flexed as she took a deep breath. He felt her pulse quicken as he slid his fingers back up to her breast. Drawing out every syllable, slow as the circles he traced around her areola, he whispered into her ear, “Give yourself over to it. Give yourself to
me.
Don’t try to control it all. Just welcome it.”

“Okay.”

David bit back a laugh. She’d ripped the word out like sandpaper and completely turned him on in the doing. Acting on pure instinct, he scraped the back of her neck with his teeth with savage need.

“Okay, what?” he prompted.

“Okay…Sir.”

“Very good. Now let’s make sure the lesson takes this time.” He parted his legs a little more and anchored his arm around her waist, forming his body into a frame around hers. “I think a little repetition exercise would be useful. Say the words after me. ‘I will not speak unless Sir asks me a direct question.’”