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As I reach the other side of the coffee table, Master Erek commands me, “Undress.”
I slip out of my sweater and the knit dress they had me wear for our drive, and they fall to the floor. Then I bend to unzip my tall brown suede boots and slide out of them, leaving me naked. I never wear undergarments, even when we go out. It would feel too strange to me. Finally back in my natural state, I climb onto his lap.
He turns me with his big, strong hands until my back rests against his chest, then he wraps his arms around my waist. Master Séverin leans over and drops a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me hungry for more. Then he straightens and goes to the cabinet that holds his collection of implements and brings out a wooden box, which he sets on the glass coffee table. He opens it and pulls out what appears to be needles, and I try not to shiver at the sight of them.
It’s not that I’ve never done needle play, but I hate it. It frightens me in a way even knives don’t. I don’t even know why. But as he steps nearer with the evil little bits of metal, a shudder passes through my body like a hard, wracking sob I’m unable to control.
“I believe we’ve just found her worst fear, my love,” Master Erek announces, joy in his tone.
Master Séverin lets out a low, deep chuckle, which does nothing to calm my nerves. But then he leans in to kiss me once more, his mouth coming down on mine, and I press my lips to his desperately. Desperate to escape the impending needles. Desperate to show him my love for him, my absolute willingness to serve.
Master Erek locks his arms around my ribcage, so tight it hurts and will likely leave bruises. I understand why when Master Séverin take a large-gauge needle and, pulling my nipple out with strong fingers, until it’s hard despite my raging fear, he swabs it with an alcohol wipe, then pierces it quickly.
“Ah!”
The tears start immediately. Not so much because it hurts, but because I’m so damn afraid.
But then he does the oddest thing. He takes Master Erek’s finger and pierces the tip with the needle, then does the same to his own. He squeezes a few drops from each of their fingers, and massages it into my bleeding nipple, then he leans down and takes it into his mouth and sucks.
I am so full of wonder, I can’t begin to decipher what’s happening. But somehow the fear has faded away. Instead, I feel cherished in a way I never have before. Trusted. Connected.
Loved.
From some distant place I understand how utterly fucked-up this would appear to anyone else. But it doesn’t matter.
Master Séverin lifts his face. “We are bonded now. The three of us. Tomorrow will only make it official. But we feel it. And that’s what truly matters.”
He leans up to kiss me, and I taste the blood on his tongue. Then he goes back my still-bleeding nipple and draws it into his mouth, and I can see the drops of blood on his lips as he leans up to kiss Master Erek.
I am so overcome with emotion, all I can do is cry. But I know that makes Master Erek happy. And that him being happy makes Master Séverin happy.
He’s right. We have all that matters. It’s this. The three of us. My belonging to them, heart and blood and soul.
Epilogue
I glance over at Master Erek as we drive to the Lake Tahoe house, and beyond him at the scenery I’ve missed. This place has become a part of me.
It’s a little bittersweet, returning to this house. So much has happened there. We loved so much here, so thoroughly. And we’ve missed our beloved Master Séverin so much.
It’s been nineteen months since we committed to each other by a blood promise, then signed the contract with Madame Gemma as witness, and I have come to truly adore her, too. In that time we’ve traveled, going to my Masters’ houses in Southern California, London, Germany. We’ve visited the Primal Ranch, where I’ve been entered in the Games a few times, and played well. We’ve been to Italy to go wine tasting, to India to visit the Taj Mahal. We managed to fit in so much in such a short time. And even when Master Séverin was feeling his worst, he insisted Master Erek take me shopping in Paris, to see Stonehenge, and—once he found out I was obsessed with horses as a child—to visit a gorgeous ranch in Spain to see the Andalusian horses. It was all wonderful, but I hated going anywhere without him. Hated that there were moments of our lives he was missing.
I’m lost in my memories of the times we all shared in this place, of the importance of the time we spent together here, when we pull into the garage, and Master Erek turns the engine off.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, my pulse racing.
We haven’t been back to this house for months, but we both miss the lake. I miss Mouse. I miss the familiarity. But most of all, I miss my beautiful Master Séverin.
Even as Master Erek hands me out of the car and leads me up the stairs, all I can see in my mind is Master Severin’s face, the sleek angles of his jawline, the enigmatic darkness of his eyes. I inhale the memory of his scent, the edge of citrus that’s nearly as sharp as his chiseled features.
As we step into the kitchen, his scent is there, unexpectedly. Then his arms are around me, holding me tight enough to nearly crush my ribs.
“Master!”
Still holding onto me, he pulls Master Erek in for a kiss, then he kisses my mouth and nips my lower lip hard. When he pulls back, I can taste my own blood, but it only makes me laugh as my system floods with joy.
“You’re here, love,” Master Erek says, beaming.
