Mastering Melody (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

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 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 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?

“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 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 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.

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.

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.

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.