Chains and Canes Read Online Free PDF

gave a sudden throb.
    He unhitched his belt buckle and drew the leather through his jeans loops with a quiet hiss. Doubling it over felt like the hot, bright potential of a spotlight. Focusing on Naya and Daniel jerked him two steps above ordinary. He got to be more. Better. Impressive.
    “By all means, chère . I can make you hurt.”

Chapter Four
    For Daniel, it wasn’t how the belt slid through the loops of Remy’s denim jeans, though he admitted that the slithering sound touched a deep part of his psyche. It was more about the way that Naya buzzed under his grip. The pressure trapped inside her skin was good. Incredibly good.
    He’d hoped for as much when inviting Remy to their flat.
    Nothing made Daniel happier than when Naya got what she needed.
    He saw the magic in her submission, when her thrumming, tense energy slipped away with each blow and every cane stroke. She could let everything go when she cried. She sobbed and voiced every fear she’d ever had and then, amazingly, set them all free.
    It was beautiful.
    Daniel had never managed to get her there. He would lie down and die for her, but the idea of personally hurting her made him sweat and shake. He’d tried three times. By the third, they’d wound up sitting naked on the bed, holding hands, staring at the slapper he’d tossed against the far wall.
    Since then they’d depended on female Dominas when Naya’s need built and built—when the limit of Daniel’s rough play still left her restless. They’d even tried a night with Geoffrey August, a friend of a friend who was known in the community as an experienced Dom. He’d used the opportunity to fuck Naya’s mouth, insisting that was what she really wanted.
    What an ass.
    She wanted to cry. After her sobs settled, with tears still fresh on her cheeks, she wanted Daniel to make her come.
    Geoffrey’s negative example wasn’t the only drawback of including a man in their play. There would be risk when bringing in one to whom Naya felt a core-deep attraction. Daniel wasn’t surprised by her choice. Remy was athletic and insouciant—the bad-boy combination that fueled some of the fantasies she shared.
    Just fantasies.
    On this occasion, however, Daniel was struck viscerally by the man’s potent effect. Even wearing a casual tank top and worn jeans with holes through one knee, Remy was…attractive.
    Daniel had admired men before. He’d revealed his private, curious desires to Naya with mind-blowing results as they climbed into one another’s skin. This was different. Remy Lomand wasn’t a clean-cut man in a suit, yet he radiated power. He was a living dare, like walking over burning coals and BASE jumping.
    If Daniel and Naya hadn’t established years of exacting trust, he might’ve worried. He’d never had cause. No matter who they looked at or where their erotic minds wandered, or her extreme needs—none of it had dented their love. Never had. Never would. They fit each other on so many other levels. Daniel loved his angel and knew she’d be a shining star. He’d help her how he could, keeping her safe and growing and encouraged. The rest was up to her. As his reward he would, as always, smile and bask in her glow.
    Remy was a diversion. A fun time. His bright eyes said he knew the score and was fine with being temporary. Maybe he liked it that way. He probably thought he was quite the hard-ass, but Daniel had become rather adept at seeing behind the fronts used by creative types. They felt deeply and used those feelings to fuel their art, but it also left them vulnerable. Daniel would’ve been blind to miss those hints in Remy. Those insecurities only seemed to make him more attractive—a man with depth, mystery and the passion to channel doubts into living, dancing poetry.
    Homeless. Black eye. Scholarship student.
    Daniel couldn’t deny that those details increased his interest in Remy. Professional interest? He might investigate whether Remy’s ambitions were worth financial