by Xenia Melzer
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Exclusive Excerpt
About the Author
By Xenia Melzer
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright
A Dom and His Writer
By Xenia Melzer
A Club Whisper Novel
Life is perfect for Richard and Dean. Richard is a wealthy and successful businessman who also owns a BDSM club, and Dean is a best-selling author and sub to Richard. They’re young, happy, and in love. The future is bright….
Until tragedy strikes and an accident claims Dean’s beloved sister. Dean finds himself the guardian of a three-month-old infant, and soon he’s trading in his leather fetish gear for diapers and drool bibs. But little Emily is all that remains of his family, so how can he abandon her?
It’s not what Richard signed up for. As much as he tries to be supportive, he never wanted kids and misses having his partner to himself. Suddenly the life he imagined for them is gone, and he’s not sure their relationship can survive the upheaval. But fate isn’t through with Dean, and when misfortune strikes again, will he be able to turn to the man he loves? A final crisis will determine if they can pull together as a family or must face facts and part ways.
For Michael. Thank you for the constant inspiration.
Acknowledgments
I WANT to thank my readers, who make it possible for me to write.
I also want to thank Simon from Dead Soft for giving my book a home in Germany.
And, as always, I have to thank the best editors in the world (I’m laying it on thick because I need to stay on their good side): Anne Regan for her patience and vast knowledge. Kelly for her sharp eye and the ability to smooth out my grammar blunders. Liv for cheering me on and finding the small mistakes that can have a big impact. And Anastasia for her deep knowledge of everything legal and real estate. If there are any mistakes in this book, I’m the one to blame.
Chapter 1
“TO FIVE wonderful years with the best sub ever!” Richard Miller raised his glass, filled with a truly excellent Merlot. He was in an exceptionally good mood, and it showed in the way he beamed at his sub and lover of five years. Dean smiled right back. He, too, was in the mood to celebrate, although his enthusiasm was a bit hampered by the sting in the sensitive flesh of his ass and the occasional shudder that ran through him whenever the plug buried inside his hole hit his prostate.
Richard grinned knowingly. “Feeling troubled, boy?”
Dean knew better than to make a face or complain. He lowered his gaze to the crisp white tablecloth in front of him and spoke as softly as possible. “Yes, Master. I can feel your hand on my flesh every time I move.”
Richard patted Dean’s hand. “As it should be. You are mine, boy, and don’t you ever forget that.”
Dean loved the possessive tone. It turned him on even more than the memory of the spanking he had received before they came to Mamma’s, their favorite Italian restaurant. Of course, it hadn’t been just the spanking, although Richard was a genius at pushing Dean until he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. It was also the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to come, not even when Richard had teased him with the brand-new plug now resting between his asscheeks, or while Dean had given Richard a blow job. The leather cock ring Richard had put on him as a finishing touch prevented him from coming while keeping him painfully aroused—which was exactly what Richard wanted. Dean shuddered and then moaned softly when the movement caused the plug to nudge his prostate in a most delicious manner.
“It seems I have a very horny boy on my hands tonight.” Richard’s tone suggested he wasn’t troubled by that.
Dean dared to look his Dom right in the face. “It’s your fault, Master. You make me ache and need so much, I can hardly stand it.”
Richard reached over the table to caress Dean’s cheek. There was a hint of steel in his voice. “Are you complaining, boy?”
Dean shook his head vehemently. “No, Master! I would never do that! I know you always give me what I need. I trust you.”
“That’s my sweet boy. I have your best interest at heart, never doubt that. And tonight is special, because it’s our anniversary. I want to push you farther than I have in a long time.” An evil grin appeared on Richard’s lips. “I’d advise you to enjoy your food. You’re going to need the sustenance.”
Again Dean felt his entire body tremble, but he cut off his moan quickly when the server came with their appetizers. Mamma’s was a very small restaurant with only ten tables, hidden on a side street close to their own apartment on the Upper Eastside. The place was owned by an Italian woman everybody just called Mamma.
In Dean’s opinion, she was the best cook in all the world. Since neither he nor Richard were gifted in the kitchen, they often came here to eat or had Mamma deliver meals to their place. Dean looked down on the bruschetta the server had placed before him. The enticing scent of fresh, very ripe tomatoes mixed with garlic, basil, a hint of marjoram, and a superb olive oil on top of a roasted, homemade slice of bruschetta bread made his stomach growl. He didn’t reach for his cutlery, though. He waited for his Dom to give him permission to eat. While Dean inhaled the wonderful aroma and listened to the clinking of Richard’s knife and fork, he wondered if this was part of his torture today—not being allowed to enjoy the food. He quickly regretted this treacherous thought when Richard offered him a piece of his own bruschetta with his fingers. Dean opened his mouth and closed his eyes to concentrate fully on the explosion of tastes on his tongue. There were the tomatoes, the garlic, the bread, and, underneath it all, the salty temptation of Richard’s fingers. Dean whirled his tongue around them, sucking lightly, which drew a moan from his master. “Dean. Boy. So good.”
Dean licked his lips, slowly, carefully, knowing what that did to his master. Richard was a very visual man, after all.
“Naughty boy. I should have spanked you harder.”
The words made Dean ache in all the right places. Another bite of the bruschetta was offered to him, and they both reveled in the sensuality of their game. After the bread, the server served them a plate of antipasti: grilled peppers, zucchini, eggplant, and mushrooms in a dressing of the same heavenly olive oil and scented balsamic vinegar.
When he got a plate with spaghetti and seafood next, Dean knew Richard had ordered this feast especially for him. All his favorites in one evening. Between bites he looked at his handsome master, whose ebony skin glistened in the light of the solitary candle on their table. Dean was no longer surprised that he felt a little flutter in his stomach every time he looked at Richard, even though it was their fifth year together. Something about the man kept him hooked, and it wasn’t just the Dom/sub dynamic of their relationship. Richard appealed
to him on levels far deeper than that. Dean smiled at his wonderful man.
“Thank you, Master. This is delicious.”
Richard grinned, full of male pride. “I’m so glad you approve. Only the best for my boy. I need you happy and relaxed for the things I have planned.”
Suddenly Dean couldn’t wait for dessert to come. Tiramisu with fresh strawberries, another favorite of his. Richard fed him the sweet temptation in small bites, and Dean practically tongue-fucked the spoon. Every time he swallowed, he felt the plug move in his ass, sending his already prickling nerves into sensual overdrive. The combination of the sweet tiramisu, the full flavor of the strawberries, and the constant tingling in his backside would have made him come right there in the restaurant, if not for the cock ring.
Richard sensed his distress, which sent him into full Dom mode. Dean could tell by the way his master held himself, how he flexed his impressive chest muscles and biceps under the expensive, dark red silk shirt he wore. Dean felt his entire body heating up while his mind settled firmly in his sub headspace. This was no longer an anniversary celebrated by two equally successful men who happened to like their sex with a little spice. It was now Richard’s show, the scene he had come up with for both their pleasure. And Dean would submit, like he always did, because deep down, he knew this was how his life was supposed to be. He lowered his head, since eye contact was no longer allowed, waiting for his Dom to give him directions.
Chapter 2
RICHARD MADE a deep, rumbling noise in his chest when he saw Dean lower his gaze. His boy was in the scene now, showing his consent to whatever Richard might come up with, which was quite a lot for tonight. His cock, which had been hard the entire evening, felt like a baseball bat in his slacks. Seeing Dean submit to him so readily always did that to him. Richard stood, and his boy followed suit with graceful movements. They left the restaurant, knowing tonight’s meal would be added to their tab just as always. When they reached the car, a customized BMW Z8 in a beautiful dark blue, Richard made sure to squeeze Dean’s ass and to push the base of the plug with his thumb, drawing a firm circle on it. Dean yelped in surprise, his body jerking forward before settling back into the touch. Richard was pleased.
“Good boy. You make me ache so good.”
Dean whimpered, while his body glowed from the praise. Richard held the car door open for his boy, who gingerly sat down on the black leather seat. “Do you feel it?”
Richard knew it was cruel, but he couldn’t help himself. Torturing Dean, be it with tools or words, was the one thing in the world he would never tire of.
And his boy knew. The slender limbs trembled for him, the answer spoken oh so softly. “Yes, Master.”
“Then brace yourself. You’ll feel it even more once we get to the club.”
Richard went around the car, sat down in the driver’s seat, and started the motor. While he tried to find a gap between the other cars, he gave his instructions. “Open your trousers and let your cock out.”
Dean complied immediately, his cock springing free. Richard threw a glance at the fully aroused, heavy prick. The tip was glistening with precum, the balls were obscenely full, and the veins on the shaft stood out in stark relief. It was a sight of pure beauty.
“Pump yourself twice, then swipe up the precum.”
Moaning, Dean did as instructed, his body jerking in anticipation of something he wouldn’t get tonight.
“Give me your fingers.”
A desperate whimper was the answer to that order. Dean knew what was coming, and he dreaded it. Richard chuckled, then used his sternest Dom voice on his boy. “Remember, no coming without my permission.”
“Yes, Master.”
The words were more like a whine than coherent speech, a sure sign that Dean was already far gone. Perfect. Richard saw Dean’s fingers, glistening with moisture, hovering in front of his mouth, and suddenly he felt the urge to be really cruel. “I’m going to suck your fingers now, boy. Caress them with my tongue, taste your delicious juice. And every time I pull, you will clench your tight little ass around the plug, make it move inside you. Can you do that, boy?”
Dean blanched but nodded. When Richard raised one of his brows, Dean hastened to answer. “Yes, Master. I can do that.”
“Good boy.”
Just like that, Richard took Dean’s index and middle fingers in his mouth, swiping his tongue around them, savoring the unique, salty taste of his boy. He played with the digits as if they were his boy’s cock, alternating deep sucking motions with quick swirls and gentle bites. Dean made the most adorable whimpering noises in the back of his throat. When he had to stop at a red light, Richard glanced at his boy to check if he was being obedient. He sucked hard and at the same time, Dean clenched his ass muscles, squirming because the motion made the cloth of his slacks scrape over the sensitive skin on his backside. It was so hot, Richard almost came in his pants. Luckily for him the light turned green, and he had to concentrate on traffic again.
They were not far from Whisper, the high-class BDSM club located in downtown Miami he owned together with his partner, Martin Carmichael. They had started out as fellow Doms on the scene. Martin owned a large security firm together with his twin sister, Olivia. One night, Richard and Martin had gotten drunk and both expressed their displeasure about the lack of sophisticated BDSM clubs that could meet their admittedly high standards. There were a handful of decent ones in the States, but not one that had their absolute approval. They stopped their drinking and started planning, writing down what they wanted and needed from a club and how they would run the place. A year later they opened Whisper, and the club had been an immediate hit. It was now going into its fifth year, with counterparts in New York, London, and Paris. At the moment they were discussing opening one in Berlin as well. Just like all of Richard’s other business ventures, Whisper was a huge success that lined him up with even more money than he already had.
Richard steered the car into the fenced parking lot in front of his club. A bouncer checked his car plate and ID before letting him through the gate. Since the club was so exclusive, they had a lot of very rich, highly reclusive members who valued their privacy above all. The bouncer at the gate was the first of a number of security obstacles anybody who wanted to get into Whisper had to overcome.
The next of these obstacles was the iron entrance door, where two bouncers checked the IDs and the membership cards of those who wanted in. Once inside, a long corridor with a dark red carpet and beautiful BDSM photographs on the walls led to a counter where up to four subs took all electronic devices, keys, and jackets from the visitors. Then a bouncer checked the membership cards once more and took a picture of everybody before opening the grand wooden door with the iron fittings that led into the actual club area. Even though there were days when the Doms, eager to play with their boys, loathed all the procedures it took to enter the club, they were a necessary evil, and the members payed hefty six-figure fees per year because of the legendary security at his place. For Richard, this was no problem. As the owner, he could just walk into the club without bothering with the pesky security.
It was a Saturday night, and the club was packed. On the stage in the main area, a shibari demonstration had just begun, and normally Richard would have been very interested to watch it, for he loved tying his boy up, but not today. Today he had something more important to do. He led Dean to the back of the club, where the private rooms were. For tonight he had booked his favorite suite. He opened the heavy wooden door with the key integrated in his membership card and stepped aside to let Dean enter.
“Strip, boy, and then assume your position on the mat. I’ll be right there.”
Dean strode over to the small wardrobe in the far corner of the room. When he started to undress, Richard closed the door and went to his office. It was located at the end of the floor with the suites, behind a small, unobtrusive door that led into another hall where his and Martin’s offices were, as well as a conference room and a small co
ffee kitchen. In the office he changed into his leather pants and a harness that highlighted his heavily muscled chest. He wanted to look good for his boy.
“Somebody’s eager.”
Richard turned to see Martin leaning on the doorframe, a saucy smile on his lips.
“Hello, Martin. Nice to see you too. You know it’s our anniversary today. And even if it weren’t, my boy deserves eager anytime.”
Martin sauntered into the room, and they hugged briefly. “Of course he does. He’s one of the most intriguing subs I’ve ever met.”
Richard growled low in his chest. “He’s mine!”
Martin laughed. “Just yanking your chain, bud. You know my tastes run differently.”
Richard snorted. Martin preferred his subs to be airheaded twinks, unable to function without a strong hand guiding them through their lives and, preferably, also financially dependent on him. Not that he ever took advantage of them; Martin was the very picture of an honorable Dom, but he needed the added dependence. Unfortunately for him there weren’t that many subs out there who would accept his need to provide for them completely, except for the gold diggers, and those Martin didn’t touch. He had been burned once, and Martin never repeated a mistake.
Richard smiled. Dean was a handsome man with his shoulder-length blond hair, the long, slender muscles that pegged him as a runner, and grace that came from years of practicing yoga, but a twink he was not. At almost six foot, he was a little too tall for Martin’s tastes but perfect for Richard, who loved the way Dean fit against his own six foot five. Dean was also anything but financially dependent. He was an insanely successful writer who made millions with his books. He didn’t earn as much money as Richard, who played in the billionaire league; still, by any reasonable standard, Dean was independent. He just had no interest in money or business at all. Only his writing mattered to him, which was why Richard took care of all the tedious things that came with making a lot of money, like taxes, investments, and long-lost friends and relatives who wanted in on the wealth. It was a different type of sub dependency, one Martin would probably never understand. Richard only wished his friend would find that special someone he craved so badly, and soon.