Her Dark Melody

by Michelle Love

  She didn’t slam it, though. I had given her all sorts of reasons to do it, but she didn’t.

  It was just how Kaye was—far more patient than I deserved—and I was going to punish her for it. I was pretty much the Antichrist at this point and I knew it. But I wasn’t sure there was a way for me to even start to dig myself out of this pit.

  “Wow,” Brent commented, sounding highly admiring. “That was cold, man. You just shut her down.”

  I really, really didn’t want to be admired for being the dick I was being. I turned to my best friend and the look on his face made me a bit sick to my stomach. He really didn’t see a problem with how I had just treated my wife. If anything, it pleased him.

  What did I expect, though? Brent had always been very good at getting women into bed, but he’d never been what I would call respectful of them. I’d met men, many of them, who were much more obnoxious about it, but Brent wasn’t exactly Prince Charming.

  Of course, neither was I. Who was I to judge?

  I forced myself not to glare at him and instead gave him a nod. This wasn’t moving fast enough for him? Well, it was time to step it up a notch or two and get this show on the road.

  I was starting to feel like the sooner it was over, the better for me. And not just because of the money. I had thought it would be no big deal to be this deliberately cruel to another human being, but it was harder than I’d thought.

  “What are you waiting for? Go. Comfort her,” I urged, and he grinned at me and nodded, rising to his feet.

  “It’s in the bag,” he told me, and then he, too, left the room.

  I tried to tell myself there was no point in following. Kaye might see me, and Brent needed his space to work his magic without me around. My presence could derail things before they even really got started.

  No, it made much more sense for me to hold back and wait for a report later. So I picked up one of the papers, resolutely settled back to read it, and then promptly put it down and walked out of the room.

  Good advice, I had found, was very easy to give myself. It was much harder to follow it.

  I very quietly stood in the hallway outside of the room I’d taken as my office and listened. I knew the house well—it was an old one where sound echoed around pretty freely.

  When I heard voices, I followed them. Kaye had retreated into the kitchen and she sat at the table with her head bowed, dark hair almost covering her face. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, were closed completely.

  Brent was right there already. The guy worked fast. He slid his arm around her and then pulled her into a hug, encouraging her to rest her head against his chest.

  Even as she hugged him back, I noticed she didn’t really cling to him like she would have done to me. She accepted the comfort of a friend, but she wasn’t all over him. She was completely appropriate, and I shook my head. We had our work cut out for us—more than I would have thought.

  “It’s okay. He’s just a jerk. Stressed out about work,” I heard Brent saying. His hand was on the back of her head, lightly stroking her hair, and I gritted my teeth at the sight of it.

  “He’s not a jerk,” Kaye defended me, which only made me feel more like the world’s biggest asshole. “He’s never talked to me like that before. There’s something going on.”

  Right. We had to keep in mind that she was not only very loving and affectionate, but also very smart. If we wanted to keep the wool over her eyes, we were going to have to be a little bit more careful.

  “Just work,” Brent commented.

  “I wish …I wish he wouldn’t yell at me, though,” Kaye said, and she opened her eyes. To my horror, I saw the gleam of tears in them and my stomach dropped like a stone. “It hurts.”

  Brent was doing all the right things, nodding sympathetically. He even, in a very smooth move, took her hand and patted it gently.

  “It’s just how he is sometimes. When he’s stressed, he …well. He doesn’t take being grumpy well.” Brent smiled at her, obviously trying to coax a smile in return. Kaye didn’t oblige him, but just looked at him thoughtfully.

  “I’ll just have to try harder,” Kaye murmured, and I winced. Damn it. Even with what little Brent was doing, many women would have already crawled into his lap. He was putting out all the right signals, coming off as concerned and not creepy at all.

  “I love him so much,” Kaye whispered so quietly I could barely hear her. She lowered her head, and Brent was obviously trying not to roll his eyes at her admission. He’d never had much use for love.

  Well, at least Brent wasn’t falling for her. That was something. On the other hand, what would it matter in the long run? Kaye was only mine for now. Once this all played out, she would be gone out of my life completely.

  Brent patted her shoulder, and Kaye did turn to him for comfort. It was just the slightest inclination of her body toward him, but Brent looked up and shrugged at me, as if asking if he should proceed.

  I shook my head, and then, before she could see me or before I could burst into the room and tear my best friend’s hand right off of his wrist so he couldn’t touch her again, I retreated.

  Kaye wasn’t ready to be seduced. Despite all of the opportunities that Brent had given her, she had never done anything even the slightest bit inappropriate. It didn’t stop me from feeling the prickly sensation of jealousy. It clung to me uncomfortably, making it hard to think about anything else.

  I didn’t deserve her.

  I had no reason to be jealous.

  Jealousy wasn’t all I felt, either. There was guilt, too, very real and vivid and painful, cramping up my stomach and squeezing my lungs so it felt like I couldn’t get enough air into them.

  I left and went not to my study, but to the library. I knew my grandfather had some good Scotch there, and even though drinking wasn’t usually one of my vices, I was feeling the definite urge for a good drink.

  With a sigh, I fell down onto his huge, old office chair, and just as I’d known there would be, I found a bottle of the good stuff. There were even glasses there, and I poured myself a shot and took it back, enjoying the burn of the fine spirit as it filled my stomach.

  The alcohol didn’t take anything away—not the jealousy nor the guilt. It was fine, though. I tried to comfort myself. Soon it would all be over, and then I could work on forgetting.

  Just a little bit more discomfort, but with so much to gain. I steeled my resolve, set my shoulders, and decided then and there that I needed to step this whole process up. I was going to make myself as unpleasant as possible and drive her right into Brent’s waiting arms.

  The thought should have been comforting. This could be over very soon, after all, if Kaye would only cooperate. And how long could she really hold out?

  It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t.

  I poured myself another drink, trying to let it burn everything away. It turned out, though, I was expecting far too much from a simple drink.

  Kaye

  It stung. I’m not going to lie. Having the man I loved speak to me as he had hurt me, but maybe David was hurting more. Being in such a bad mood, I’d come to realize over the day, couldn’t be a whole lot of fun.

  I wasn’t, and had never been, a quitter. Brent might think it was hopeless to try to cheer David up, but I knew better. I had to at least try. I was his wife, after all, and it hurt me when he was so unhappy.

  So I would do my best to make him happy again. I really wasn’t willing to just quit trying—not when all he’d done was snap at me. Yes, it had been unpleasant, but didn’t we all have bad moods from time to time?

  Sometimes I was just oversensitive and I knew that about myself. Brent had been sympathetic and it had been nice to have someone who seemed to be on my side. He had probably been on the receiving end of one of David’s bad moods before.

  Still, it was time for me to step in. It was too soon for me to do my best to make my husband relaxed enough that he could be himself with me again. He didn’t need to push
me away, and I needed to make him see that.

  I made my plans, and when night came, I was already in bed. I was wearing one of the sexier things that my lovely husband had bought me—a pretty little baby-doll teddy in an emerald green. I liked to think it did great things for my eyes, but whatever the case was, it definitely showed off my body, which was more important.

  When David came in, I was ready for him. I lay on the bed, my body artfully displayed—I hoped. Either that or I looked ridiculous. I wasn’t really too sure which.

  “I’m glad you came to bed,” I said, giving him my best seductive smile. It wasn’t something I was particularly good at yet, but I gave it a shot. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  He looked at me and for a moment—just a very short time—I could swear he was really looking at me. Then he turned away and started to undress, not paying any attention to me at all.

  It seemed his bad mood was still in full force. I’d have to try a little harder.

  “I keep thinking about that night,” I murmured, watching his back, which seemed pretty uncompromising. But I could swear he’d liked seeing me spread out over the bed for him, so I couldn’t give up. “You know, back at the club? I keep thinking about how you made me yours.”

  “I’m not in the mood,” David said, and maybe it was true. He slept naked, but he’d pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms. Well, I’d never often been one to back away from a challenge.

  “I know,” I murmured, rolling over to face him as he slid into bed. I rested my hand on his strong chest, caressing over the muscles there and tracing them with my fingertips. “But I plan on fixing your bad mood for you.”

  He snorted softly, but I ignored it. No hurt feelings were going to ruin this for me. I slid my hand down, toying with the strings on his pants before tugging them loose and plunging my hand inside.

  To my delight, he was already starting to harden. Maybe his mind was in a bad mood, but his body wasn’t. I would just have to appeal to his body for now, instead of his mind.

  I gripped him and he let out the slightest hiss. Taking it as a sign that I should continue, I eased down his pants and freed his thick, rapidly hardening cock.

  It was still a little new to me, but I wasn’t going to let it hold me back. I shifted down, kneeling beside his hips, and bent over. Without hesitation, I took him deep between my lips, sucking him determinedly.

  One thing I had noticed about men—it seemed it was quite difficult for them to stay in a bad mood when they were getting head. I just had to hope I was doing an okay job.

  I didn’t have to wonder for long.

  When I opened my mouth and took him deep, he gave a soft growl, which would have been encouragement enough. He also grabbed my head, however, his fingers slipping into my hair and cradling me. His hips pushed toward my mouth like he couldn’t quite seem to help himself.

  There! I had to guess I was helping with the bad mood at least a little …

  He rocked up toward me, and I took it. This was still so new, and I let myself explore a little, stroking over his hips, his stomach, and finally down to his balls. They were so heavy, and I moaned around him as I stroked them.

  The moan seemed to excite him and he started to really pump between my lips. I took it—I took it all—and in some way, I loved it. I was certainly dripping wet, and I had to hope he would fuck me or return the favor in some way afterward.

  Regardless of what would happen after, I threw myself into it. When he leaked precum into my mouth, I licked up every single last drop of it. He gave me more as his movements became more frenzied, and I knew he was getting close.

  “I’m going to come in your pretty mouth, Kaye,” he purred, and there was no trace of bad humor in his voice now. It was all rough and dominant and sexy, and I moaned around him again as his cock twitched and started to spurt right between my lips.

  This had never been an act I’d expected to like, but with David, I did. There were many things that I liked with David that I was sure I wouldn’t enjoy if anyone else did them. It was more about David than anything else. He made everything we did so amazing.

  I swallowed it all down and pulled away from him. I was delighted to see the smile on his face. In further good news, he also had a glint of mischief in his eye. I’d heard many men would be done after coming, as he already had, but not him, apparently.

  “Lie down,” he growled. “On your back.”

  I had to admit, I loved it when he got all dominant on me. It was the most arousing thing, and I didn’t hesitate. I did as I was told, spreading myself over the bed and lying on my back.

  From beside the bed, he took out a pair of handcuffs I hadn’t even known were there. They weren’t harsh, though. The metal was surrounded by fur, so when he fastened it around my right wrist, it felt soft and didn’t pinch at all.

  “Mine,” he hissed, and it sounded like he meant it. Even with how he’d snapped at me earlier, I was so pleased to see he still wanted me. I’d had some light, fairly unformed ideas about how he might be done with me already.

  “Yours,” I murmured, my heart on my lips and my eyes fixed on him. It was so nice to see him snap out of his strange mood and to see the light back in his eyes and desire on his face.

  Once I was firmly restrained to the bed, David was on me in a second. His pajama pants were gone before I could even blink, almost like he’d teleported out of them, and the little panties that went with the baby-doll were slipped down my legs, leaving me bare for him.

  There was no preparation. No foreplay. He thrust inside me all at once, his thick cock filling me up, stretching me open, and claiming me. Making me his. I was his, wasn’t I? He wouldn’t take me like he had if he didn’t really want me still.

  My legs were free, and I wrapped them around his waist, anchoring us together as he slid deep into my hot, wet channel. I was so ready for him. I had been since I’d been lying in bed, planning this all out. Tasting him as he’d come in my mouth had sealed the deal.

  “You’re mine, Kaye. Mine,” David insisted again. I looked up into his handsome face and my heart pounded in a way that had little to do with how perfectly he was using my body.

  His.

  I was his. Mind, body, and soul, I belonged to him, and we both knew it.

  “David,” I moaned, tugging at the cuff on my wrist to remind myself of how thoroughly bound I was—how helpless I was for him. I shuddered and rocked on him, my pussy walls clenching tightly around him as each thrust inside me brought me closer to ecstasy.

  “Say it,” David insisted, his dick pumping away inside of me, his hands cupping my breasts, and his thumbs playing over the nipples. “Tell me who you belong to.”

  His eyes were getting darker with his own growing pleasure, and his thrusts were deeper, harder, and more erratic inside of me. His breathing had sped up and it matched mine perfectly, mingling between us and linking us in one more way.

  My husband. My perfect, sexy, gorgeous husband. Bad moods or not, I loved him. And it seemed I was even better than Brent was at bringing him out of those bad moods.

  There was no doubt about it. I was his. Everything I was, was for him. I smiled up at him, my hips rising to meet his desperate thrusts, just as eager as he was. My own pleasure was gathering like storm clouds, and lightning bolts of pleasure were starting to flicker through my body, making it tense up around him.

  “I’m yours,” I whispered, relentlessly fucking myself on him, using him just as much as he used me. “I’m yours!” The last two words were pretty much shouted because the force of the orgasm that ripped through me stole all my control. I moaned and writhed, the cuffs rattling against the bed frame as I clenched around him. Pulsing pleasure shot through my entire body until I was sweaty and weak.

  A few more thrusts, which only prolonged my pleasure, and then David was finding his own release. I felt the hot wash of his fluids inside of me, the slightly sticky liquid making me slippery around him. He pushed deep, holding me down with his whole body
as he shot inside of me.

  “Mine!”

  His voice was insistent, and for a moment, he almost sounded panicked. I frowned a little. Did he really still doubt it? I was his—of course I was. I was beyond happy to be his.

  “I’m yours,” I told him, panting, as soon as I could form words again. “I’m yours, David, always and forever. Until the end of time.”

  Tangled up in each other, arms firmly around each other with both of us considerably more sated, we drifted off into a deep, satisfying sleep.

  I would be his, forever and then some.

  Chapter 15

  David

  A few months passed. I knew Brent was chomping at the bit. I knew he didn’t understand why it was all taking so long, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Kaye needed to settle into the new marriage—to become a little bit more complacent about it.

  I kept myself a bit distant from her. Not too much. Not enough to allow her to accuse me of anything. Just enough to shake her loose from me, hopefully. Just enough so that, when the time came, she would fall right into Brent’s arms.

  Because it was still the plan. I hadn’t given it up. Sometimes I slipped up and almost forgot the main point of the whole thing. Sometimes I let myself enjoy her company and her willing presence in my bed.

  It was probably better that I did, though. If she found me moody and unpredictable, she would be more likely to fall for Brent, who could—in her mind—offer her stability.

  It made me sick to think about her falling for Brent. He was just going to break her heart. I tried not to think about it at all, but it came back into my mind time after time.

  So it was easier to mostly avoid her, to pick little fights, and to push her away. Though it would be easier still if she would fight back, but she never did.

  I was avoiding her the day she came to me, her expression both nervous and determined. She opened the door to my office, where I was working, and the look on her face robbed me of the snarky comment I would probably have made.

  She knew better than to bother me while I was working. Yet she was, and I found I couldn’t speak—I couldn’t tell her off. Not when she was looking at me the way she was.