Chains and Canes by Katie Porter Read Free Book Online Page B

between apologizing and barking out an order that they tell him what had gone wrong. Rather than the latter, he drew from the source of patience he found when trying to get a new routine just right. He wanted to get this right. That meant paying attention to what was obviously a practiced event for them.
    The back of his neck prickled. “Sorry,” he finally said.
    “It’s me. Kind of.” Naya shook her head, pushing damp hair back from her face. Her cheeks were damp with tears. “I mean, gimme a minute.”
    “All the time you need.” He wanted to be able to chuckle, to laugh it off and play this as casually as they did. Not happening. Not with how tight his chest pulled, the way it was almost impossible to get a breath. He managed a stiff smile, the best he could do when he expected to be kicked out within the next few seconds.
    Sorry, boy. Not what we’re looking for. Enjoy the elevator ride back down to real life.
    He expected Daniel to explain the situation, but that didn’t happen. He was too focused on Naya, on stroking her head, her shoulders—all the soft skin he could reach. The look he shot over her head was full of doubt and…disappointment?
    As if they’d known each other long enough to develop expectations. That was enough to piss a guy off. They wouldn’t expect him to bring his bags up and move in. Who would? So why did the millionaire businessman get to have hopes and complain about his shorts being in a twist when they weren’t fulfilled?
    Because he’s a millionaire businessman.
    Kids who ran away from home at thirteen could have all the hopes in the world, but the world never gave a shit if they got trampled.
    Remy rocked on his heels. “You’re going to have to talk to me eventually, chère .”
    “Have you ever beaten a woman who giggled?”
    “Yeah, a few of those. The whole bratty act, wanting punishment. Can be fun.”
    He took a deep breath. His want for the girl wasn’t abating. Probably because she was a tousled, fuckable mess. The curves of her body were a wonderland. Gorgeous tits with tight tips heaved with every harsh breath. Her legs pressed together, displaying the smallest hint of dark hair.
    Jesus, she’d been wet. Soaked. More liquid gold than the glass of champagne Remy picked up and held to her lips. She took a sip. “I don’t giggle for play,” she said. “It’s part of my high. The crest right before it all goes.”
    He gave a short nod, feeling the weight of what she wasn’t saying. “And I blew your high.”
    “Yeah.” So straightforward. “You did.”
    Fuck, she was an amazing sub. Vocal and self-aware and she’d taken an entire flurry of belt blows as if she’d been made for it. Her skin had flushed pink, with perfect stripes to decorate the graceful sinews of her back, round ass and strong thighs.
    She was an amazing sub supported by a sexy fiancé who didn’t give her what she needed every night.
    Maybe Remy had dropped into some alternate universe. Or maybe there was something under the surface of this setup, something he didn’t understand yet. The way Daniel had licked Naya’s taste off Remy’s finger hinted at more possibilities—maybe ones they’d never explored.
    That’d only be possible if he could get everyone back on the same sheet of music.
    “Is it too far gone?” he asked. “Can’t catch it again?”
    Dark hair streamed past her shoulders, a lock curling around her beaded nipple. He traced the path with his softest touch, circled her nipple with his nail, then pinched.
    Even his gentlest touch usually came with a bite of pain. Such was life.
    She shuddered. Her head fell back into the cup of Daniel’s shoulder. “Not gone. Please. Take me back up, Sir.”
    Remy’s toes clenched inside his boots. He stalked around Naya’s prone body, admiring, planning—so goddamn turned on. She had relinquished all control, and Daniel was well on his way. The options were thick and demanding. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t