Authors: Delphine Dryden
working it free of her ponytail. “You two look like Snow White and Rose Red.”
“I can’t remember that one,” she said, blinking her eyes back into focus. “Master.”
“I don’t remember the whole thing either. I’ll look it up later. Come this way.” He
led her to the couch and sat down, spreading his legs and turning her around between them. Coaxing her to sit with her back to his chest, he looped his arms under hers and used his feet to hold her legs at the ankles. Then he nodded at Mara, who kneeled
before them.
“Let’s take some clamps off.”
“Fuck!”
Daniel and Mara both laughed at Delia’s reaction. He had used much milder
clamps on her nipples before, little nooses that seemed more for decoration than
anything else. But even those hurt her more coming off than going on. With the
butterfly clips, he could only imagine the pain she would be in for. Which was why he had taken the proactive measure of restraining her.
“First one.”
“No no no, just give me a minute, just—”
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“Mara, do it now.”
“Fuuuuuuuck!”
Mara had flicked the clamp off in one expert motion, and the reaction hit Delia’s
body a second later. It felt like holding a live wire, and Daniel wanted to chortle with glee at the fact that this fabulous woman actually let him have this much leeway with her body. The pain was a gift, just the outward sign, not even the most important part.
It was the absolute trust—she would let him restrain her, exposed, while she endured these sweet agonies—that drove him crazy every damn time.
“Second one. Hold still, sub. We’re not done yet.”
“Owwwwwwwww ow ow ow!”
“Whiny brat.”
“Owoooooch!”
Daniel looked down at Mara, whose eyes held a devilish glint as she contemplated
the third clamp. He could see the interest, the hunger in her expression. And he knew he was nearing the limits of his own will power.
“Stand up, whiny brat. You stay there, sub.”
Delia stood on shaking legs and Daniel quickly unfastened his jeans, shoving them
down far enough to free his cock. He pulled her back down with one hand and lined
himself up with the other, then pressed on her hips until she had slid down the length of his cock and seated herself in his lap.
The couch was the perfect height, nice and low. Delia’s legs were just long enough
to reach the floor on either side of his lap, giving her leverage.
“Ride me,” Daniel commanded, as if she would do anything else. “Slow, now.”
Reaching forward, he brushed his palms over her distended nipples, chuckling as
she reacted by pushing into his hands and his lap at once. She was so wet and hot he felt like he might melt into her body, and her cunt gripped him in little greedy spasms like it did when she was just about to climax.
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“Oh, you want to come, don’t you?”
“Please, Master!”
So few words, so much expressed in them. And so much expression too in the huge,
dark-brown eyes of Rose Red, who still knelt between his feet. Impish smile with a
quick and clever little tongue.
“Let’s get her endorphins nice and confused, Mara.” With control he didn’t know
he possessed, Daniel pressed Delia’s roving hips to a halt, stilling her body as he
pressed her legs even wider with his own. “Lick her. Get her hot.”
Say a Dom thing, idiot
.
“But don’t let her come until I say so. That’s when the clip will come off too. I’m
going to enjoy the feel of you milking my cock while you scream, pretty sub.”
He gave himself a mental high-five and leaned back on his hands to watch events
unfold. Sadly, with Delia’s luscious body in the way, he couldn’t see the licking itself.
But her guttural sounds and the almost painfully tight clench of her body around his cock were pretty good signs that she was enjoying it.
In fact she was possibly reaching a limit of her own, Daniel thought. And as much
as he loved being the one to make her space out from pain and pleasure, he felt very keenly the responsibility of making sure she returned safely from space. So after a few blissful minutes of feeling her at the brink, he spoke again.
“Delia, tell me when you’re ready to come.”
She nodded and then whispered, a nearly incoherent stream of something like,
“Now, now please, oh please, Master now now, please…” And so on.
“Come when you can. But when you do, Mara takes the clip off.”
She nodded, more aware than he’d thought. “I know, Master. Oh God. Oh
godohgodohgodNOWohgodohg—”
He assumed that was when Mara took the clamp off. There was more or less a sonic
scream, but he couldn’t really care when Delia’s pussy was squeezing him harder than 52
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his own hand. When the blood was rushing away from his head to his cock. When a
hot, clever little tongue was licking its way around his testicles…
Oh. Holy. Fuck.
Daniel was well aware that a Dom wouldn’t let that sort of thing happen without
permission. But the feel of one woman fucking him with raw enthusiasm while another
licked his balls was enough to make any notions of what should or shouldn’t happen fly straight out of his head. He came so hard he wasn’t even sure he could remember his
own name. He was pretty sure he’d shot some brains out along with the semen. And it
went on and on, Delia’s shivering body dragging out his pleasure as she came again,
another spurt of wondrous testicular joy when he felt the distinct huff of hot, happy laughter against his sac.
And then there was a hiatus. Silent and sated and sticky. Him, flopped back on the
wide couch. Delia, slouched over with her hands on his knees, trying to catch her
breath. A silky brush of short hair against his thigh, where Mara was leaning.
So that’s how threesomes work.
Daniel had to wonder why anybody ever did it any other way.
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Delphine Dryden
Chapter Eight
Delia pretended to fall asleep in the car on the way home. Not that it was much of a stretch. She was drowsy, and fuzzy, and had practically had to be carried out of the club.
Her ass hurt. Her thighs hurt. She felt wobbly. She felt like the real world was too shocking, too harsh on her eyes with the headlights and trees and passing street signs.
She hadn’t wanted to leave. She had never wanted to leave. That place, that room in
particular, seemed as if it had existed in a magic bubble, and by leaving the club they’d broken the bubble. The magical little pixie had vanished into the night. The man who looked like Daniel but was a Dom had faded away again. And she, Delia, had lost that astonishing sensation of being, finally and for the first time, fully and completely who she was meant to be.
“Here.”
She opened her eyes to see Daniel thrusting a travel pack of tissues at her. His car was like that, miraculously clean but he could procure any sort of useful item within seconds from one of the many scrupulously organized compartments. Tissues, pocket
knife, complete tool set, once even a carsickness bag. She had no idea where he’d
acquired it, she’d just been thankful it was there, even if she hadn’t ended up needing it.
“What are these for?”
“Because you’re crying.”
She felt her face, felt the tears, and realized she had indeed been crying. It was that sort of night. She couldn’t even say whether they were tears of elation—
at last, at last!
—
or of grief at having to stop.
It was clear which kind Daniel thought they were.
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“I fucked up. I just…
fuck
.” He banged a fist on the steering wheel for emphasis, or to try to knock some sense into the car. They were nearly home, she noticed. The drive had seemed to last only seconds. Maybe she
had
fallen asleep.
“What are you talking about?” The last thing she could handle right now was
complicated emotions from Daniel, who was usually so stalwart and considerate.
She watched the muscle in his jaw pop out. He was clenching his teeth. Delia
considered reminding him that the dentist had warned him about grinding, but decided against it. They were pulling into the garage now, and Daniel yanked up the emergency brake hard enough that it seemed ready to come off in his hand.
“Daniel? What were you talking about?”
He looked at her like she’d gone nuts. “What am I talking about? Jesus, Delia.
You’re sitting there weeping and you’re asking me what…”
She started to reply then realized her lips were just flapping from habit. She had no idea what to say yet. And no energy to talk her way into whatever idea might come
along.
“Let’s go inside,” she said softly, and Daniel was out of the car and around to her
door before she could even finish opening it. He handed her out of the car like a
gentleman, supported her at the waist as if she were an invalid and walked her straight back to their bedroom.
“What are you doing?” She was bemused enough to ask with a chuckle, because he
looked so solemn and determined. Taking her coat off and draping it over the back of the armchair in the corner. Carefully removing her halter-top and skirt then arranging them neatly over the coat, which reminded her of the club. Pulling her feet out of her shoes one by one, supporting her so she didn’t topple over during the process. And
then picking her up and laying her in the bed so carefully, as if she were a piece of bone china.
“I’m taking care of you,” he explained, somewhat after the fact. “And I’m sorry,
sweetheart.”
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Delphine Dryden
“I wasn’t crying because I was upset, Daniel. Or, well,” she corrected, “I was upset that it had to end, I guess. Letdown tears, or whatever. But not because of what
happened. My god, honey, that was…I don’t even have words.”
If she’d had more energy, she would have cracked up at the look on his face.
Now I finally know what “gobsmacked” means.
“You liked it too?”
“Too? So I gather you liked it.”
“If I had liked it any more I would have probably needed medical attention
afterward.”
She smiled, marveling that all the brilliant communicating they’d done earlier in the evening was so effortless when
this
, normal conversation with talking and no blindfolds or role-playing, was so often difficult and led to misunderstandings.
Potentially disastrous misunderstandings. Because if Daniel had gone on thinking
she hadn’t enjoyed the scene, and had therefore avoided a repeat, that would mean—
“Mara!”
“It’s okay, I got her number,” Daniel reassured her. “And she has ours.”
“I just realized. She didn’t get to come.”
They were quiet for a moment, contemplating this.
“We’ll make it up to her next time,” he said at last.
“As long as you know there needs to be a next time.”
* * * * *
It wasn’t until the next day that the doubts started to creep into Delia’s head. Late that afternoon, when she saw Daniel pick up his phone and put it down a few times,
obviously trying to decide whether to make a call.
Did he really want this? And what was
this
, exactly, anyway? What were Mara’s expectations? Delia wished she could talk to Mara outside the club setting, find out 56
Roses and Chains
what kind of person she was. If she was really the impish little pixie she seemed, full of whimsy and deviance. Or if, in real life, she was perhaps less enticing. She didn’t think that would be possible.
She had the strangest urge to call her like she might a girlfriend, to go shopping or to a movie. To hang out. As if she knew her already. But Delia knew that was
ridiculous. They had barely spoken.
“I’m going to call,” Daniel announced.
She just nodded. Waited with him as the phone rang a few times. Met his eyes with
an eager smile when Mara picked up.
But she couldn’t quite make out both ends of the conversation, though she stood on
tiptoe trying to listen.
“We are,” Daniel was saying. “How are you?”
So formal. It was nerves. Daniel was using his business-call voice, although she
didn’t mind that. She found it oddly attractive.
“Absolutely. At nine. We’ll need to talk first about limits.”
That sounds more promising.
“Yes, I did. Oh, and I meant to reassure you about that last night. Delia too. I can bring condoms, though, if you’re more comfortable—oh, okay.”
Wait wait bring WHAT now?
He must have heard her thinking, because he gave her a stern look and did the
eyebrow thing. Kept a straight face, snapped his fingers at the floor and nodded his head at her.
Delia slid to her knees, arms wrapping loosely around Daniel’s calf, and she felt a
deep and thrilling ease possess her as his hand came to rest on her head.
“Seriously?”
He sounded a lot less formal all of a sudden.
“What server? Wait, text me your character name and I’ll find you on the database.”
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Delphine Dryden
“Computer games?” she hissed up at him. “Oh, you have
got
to be kidding me.”
“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered with a wink, “she plays on the good guy side.”
* * * * *
By the time they arrived at the club that evening, Daniel had plenty to talk about
with Mara. She was sitting at the bar waiting for them, and when she turned and
waved, Delia’s heart gave that funny lurch again.
She was wearing a little nothing of a black wrap skirt and even less of a little red-lace underbust corset. A black crochet shrug kept her shoulders warm and her breasts covered enough to walk down the street, but Delia could see enough to imagine the