Page 119 of Their Fairy Princess (Office Intrigue Duet 7)
A knock sounded on my door. I knew instantly who it was, so I knew a response wasn’t necessary.
I had already put the footrest on the recliner down and was sliding to the floor on my knees when I heard footsteps moving toward me, through my bedroom, and into the small living area I used to watch television.
It was a position I’d gotten used to being in as of late. One I’d personally requested. When Ian and Isaac were around, I wanted to kneel at their feet, to feel their presence, to comfort them in some small way. Since their preference seemed to be to have Everly sitting beside them, it worked for us.
As had become the routine, Ian walked over and sat in the recliner. I rested my head against his knee and his hand moved to my head, fingers combing through my hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
I didn’t respond. Didn’t need to.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
I knew that was true. I also knew that if he would address the situation with Isaac, they could come to some sort of resolution. I truly believed Isaac was blind to the fact his twin was in love with the same woman he was.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?”
Ian grunted.
“You and Isaac … you’ve wanted a submissive, right?”
“Two,” he said, his tone clipped.
I lifted my head, watched him.
He sighed. “As you can see by the way we designed the house, Isaac and I always intended to have two submissives. One for each of us. Before we were in the lifestyle, it was your run-of-the-mill relationship. He would have a wife. I would have one, too. However, we’d intended to live together. It was never a question. That morphed into submissives. One for each of us. Only we intended to share them on occasion. From a sexual perspective only. One to love, cherish, give our hearts to. The other would be for fun, to incite the kink we’ve always been drawn to.”
Well, hell. That explained why Isaac wasn’t seeing this through his brother’s eyes. He expected Ian to spend time with Everly but not to fall in love with her. Epic fail on their part, clearly.
We sat like that for a long time, the silence as comforting as the sound of his breathing. When he spoke, the abrupt tone startled me.
“Who am I?”
I peered up at him. “My Master and—”
He growled. “Who, Dante? Who am I?”
His outburst confused me, rendering me motionless, unable to speak.
Ian’s lips pressed together, his head tipped back. “I want to be more than that to you.”
There was an unfamiliar plea in his tone. It caused my heart to ache.
“Tell me,” he groaned. “Who am I to you?”
I pressed my forehead to his knee and went with the truth. “My rescuer, my defender, the man who saved me from myself.”
“Look at me, Dante,” he commanded.
I lifted my head, met his tormented gaze.
His breaths came faster now, his eyes shifting over my face, studying me. Whatever had prompted this … I think it was spur of the moment. The pain he was battling, it was building, and this was his way of releasing the pressure.
He didn’t have to ask me again. I knew what he needed.
“The man I love,” I whispered, the admission falling from my lips easily. “My Master.”
He didn’t speak, so I continued. “And I am your humble servant. Not only do you have my submission, you have my heart.”
“And you have mine.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I need you, Dante.”
He didn’t have to say anything more than that. We both knew I would give him whatever he needed, whenever he needed it. Considering he hadn’t asked anything of me since the night of Everly’s birthday, I’d been hoping he would come for me. He might not see it that way, but I found significant comfort in his presence.
I lifted my head, met his gaze. “May I take care of you, Master?”
“Please.” The single word was full of anguish, pain, but there was something lurking just beneath the surface. I had to believe it was relief, maybe even acceptance.
I pushed to my feet, stripped off my clothes. I could feel his eyes on me, hot as they raked over my skin. His gaze trailed me even when I went to my knees between his thighs. He was wearing athletic shorts, which he pushed down his hips. His cock was hard, and my mouth watered with the need to taste him, my heart aching with the need to soothe him in the only way I knew how.
Without using my hands, I took him in my mouth, caressed him with my tongue. I didn’t rush, nor did he. As the minutes ticked by, his breaths remained slow, even, his hands moving into my hair. He was gentle, allowing me to give him pleasure, to worship his cock.
