Fettered Love

Part of the 1-800-DOM-help series.

Kirk, Master to his long-time lover Evan, decides it’s time to place his permanent

collar around Evan’s sexy cock. But when he proposes, he faces a surprise. Evan wants a
child. So where will they find a kinky woman to help?

A mysterious card with the 1-800-DOM-help number advertises assistance for

unusual problems in the BDSM community. When Evan calls, he recognizes the voice of
Sarah—Kirk’s best friend from childhood, Evan’s Mistress of several years in college.
They both loved her and suffered betrayal when she walked out of their lives.

Now she proposes to be the mother of their child. No strings, just a chance to have

the men she respects and loves back in her life. Evan embraces the idea while Kirk rages
with mistrust.

At Evan’s request, they share one night of passion, Kirk and Sarah working

together to dominate Evan in the scene of his erotic fantasies, hoping it will be enough
to rekindle trust and make all their dreams come true.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Fettered Love

ISBN 9781419932854

Edited by Mary Moran

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication January 2011

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in

part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing,

Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

ETTERED

OVE

Michelle Polaris

Trademarks Acknowledgment

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the

following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Harvard University: President and Fellows of Harvard College Corporation

Massachusetts

Jell-O: Kraft Food Holdings, Inc.

Mother Teresa: The Mother Teresa of Calcutta Center Non-Profit Corp

Peanuts: United Feature Syndicate, Inc. DBA United Media Corporation

Technicolor: Technicolor Trademark Management societe par actions simplifiee

(sas)

Michelle Polaris

The Magic

The magic begins with the appearance of the business card. Sleek black print on a

pristine white background—unassuming in its appearance. Those brave enough to call
the number will begin a journey that will explore their greatest desires.

Once the call is made, the Operator goes to work. Somehow he knows just what

every caller needs, always able to find the answer the caller seeks.

Callers may be directed to Unfettered, a new club in town, one nobody has heard

of. It provides a safe haven for all who enter. Members are free to explore their every
desire…even those they weren’t aware of. Little do they know Unfettered will
disappear once those yearnings have eased.

Submissives who don’t know how to handle their Dominants. Masters looking for

the perfect sub. People who need just a little push to admit vanilla isn’t their favorite
flavor. The card finds them all.

And once you dial 1-800-DOM-help, anything can happen.

Fettered Love

Chapter One

The spider web cradled his lover as he hung locked in its strands, candlelight

glinting off his naked limbs and bare shaven flesh from the dozens of wicks flickering
around the edges of their dungeon. The perfect picture of Evan caught and struggling in
the webbing, intensity off the charts and riding the wave of pain.

Just the way Kirk liked him.

Kirk circled his sub with lazy regard, dragging a metal-bristled brush over the skin

of his shoulders, chest and clamped nipples, irritating the squeezed flesh when he
bumped over the constricted nubs. “You want more, don’t you, Ev?” He dug the
bristles in harder and smiled at the gasp of reaction.

“Yes,” Evan moaned. “God yes.”

Kirk ran the bristles down Ev’s abdomen to the reddened, weeping helmet of his

cock. He tapped the smooth head lightly with the brush, the organ straining farther
against Ev’s belly with the contact. “I’m not sure you deserve it. You’ve been working
too hard, wearing yourself out. I don’t appreciate your mistreatment of what is mine.
You belong to me, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll keep you hanging there as punishment.
Waiting. I’ll stuff your mouth with a gag, invite over that interesting woman who
moved in next door and make you watch me fuck her.”

“Shit!” His sub moaned again and shifted in his restraints, testing them. “Master.”

The continued twitch of his shaft made it clear the idea aroused him, even if he fought
against it.

Deep erotic anticipation suffused Kirk’s body watching Ev like this and brought a

pleasurable ache to his groin. This play was the way Evan liked it too, if his rigid cock
was any measure, submitting to Kirk only after struggling to free himself. It was part of
their game and what aroused his sub most. Letting first the panic and then the gut-level

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knowledge of his unavoidable vulnerability soak into him. Letting the endorphins do
their work, flying him to sub space where he just accepted.

Or at least that’s what Evan always explained about the sensation after their

lovemaking, a stupid, sloppy grin on his face as they lay in the big bed of their
Cambridge apartment. Kirk liked to humor his partner, listen to Ev’s low voice smooth
over the conversation the same way Evan stroked the handcrafted wooden creations in
his shop. As if the furniture he designed and created by hand were living, breathing
beings.

Stupid, idiotically sentimental man. Kirk loved him.

Drawn back to Evan, Kirk forced down his restless need to swallow his lover

whole. “You want this and I’ll send you deep, just where you need to be. Your Master
will take good care of you. Savor the pain for me, sweetheart.”

Evan’s glazed eyes rolled back as Kirk struck his ass one last time with the metal

bristles.

Over a damn decade was enough. Although they’d been on and off since college,

mostly on, it was time to make their relationship permanent. A buzzing expectation
vibrated inside Kirk’s bones. He’d made his plan weeks ago, and his tight chest, the
fight to control his breathing, stay calm and centered in the scene pushed at his control.

Kirk liked his control. One of the reasons he knew his decision to make an official

commitment was right was how spinning-top crazy Evan made him, yet how Kirk
didn’t mind in the least. He didn’t mind that in the end it was Evan, his sub, in control
in their relationship, making the final decisions about giving away his power.
Ultimately he held the reins, as was true in every D/s situation. And Evan had that
power even more so now since Kirk’s freaking heart was involved. He knew the time
had come because of his drive to protect Ev, to make him happy. Not to mention Kirk’s
endless need to fuck his lover, watch him buck back to ram Kirk’s cock deeper and
welcome anything Kirk gave with his entire soul.

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Damn, he sounded like some pathetic, sappy woman in love. Ev was the drippy

romantic one. Not him. He’d given up those gestures years ago as a waste. They led to
nothing. If a person someone cared for wanted to run away, they’d run no matter how
many flowers were delivered on bended knee. That’s what he loved about Ev. He’d
take flowers or no flowers, but in the end his devotion and loyalty were unquestionable.
He loved fully and unashamedly. No holding back. No running. What real family
would do for each other.

Kirk’s thoughts bounced to the woman he’d rather forget, to long chestnut hair, a

pair of gold-green eyes, and the fucking ache that recurring memory still raised. To
thoughts of the family he’d believed he’d been creating long ago.

His memory flashed in Technicolor.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kirk over at Sarah’s house, the two of them watching the younger kids during their

high school spring break while her mom worked. Her laughing as she convinced her
stubborn much younger brother to eat his lunch by making the pieces of chicken dance
around like his favorite cartoon character. Her hair shining in her silliness as she tossed
her head side to side.

Later, her rocking the baby to sleep in the living room as he watched. He’d always

hated that she’d had to take two years off in the middle of high school just to help her
mom cope. Although it meant they were in the same graduating class. So young to be so
good at mothering. A natural. Better suited than her own single mother.

That night, the two of them sitting on the screened-in porch, legs pumping in synch

to get the porch swing going as fast as they could manage. Laughing more.

The hours he spent at her place to avoid the frigid loneliness of his own home.

Always welcomed by her. Him taking care of her and the kids with side projects, little
gifts he knew the family needed desperately, slipping in his help without her notice.

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Watching out for that sticky pride of hers. But she knew he needed to do it. Otherwise,
how was he different from what he got at home?

And that stellar afternoon he’d hauled ass and run to her place after getting his

acceptance to Harvard in the mail. Only to find her jumping up and down in front of
her mailbox, celebrating her own acceptance there. Both swearing to leave small town
Midwest life behind forever and live large.

Her lips so close to his as she leaned in. Their chaste first kiss with the promise of

fire to come behind her eyes. So she was a couple of years older. Who cared? Best
friends for years by then but finally taking a new step toward one another. Toward a
future. It called to him even then.

The tension sizzling, his need to back her to a wall, to make her stay put there,

moan at his touch, to thread his fist through her hair and pull until she gasped, eyes
bright and just for him. The confusion over his urges as he saw in her all he respected.
Her strength and will.

Jesus, she was always so beautiful.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Evan groaned in the here and now, and Kirk shook out of the memory and those

ridiculous naïve years of his youth. Screw the bitch. Why she haunted him after all this
time, and in the middle of one of the best nights of his life, he didn’t know. He refused
to let the rage from what he’d lost target his lover.

Kirk dragged in a deep breath and let the pain wash over him, the anger sink its

jagged claws into his skin, then accepted it and went about the process of diminishing
its power. Yes, good. His knotted gut smoothed out and the memories faded. This was
the miracle, the acceptance, the clear sense of rightness about himself and his choices
that allowed him to hold his sub with absolute surety. Calm now, he focused once again
on the blue-eyed miracle in front of him.

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Evan. A little under six feet of sandy-haired, suntanned, toned flesh. Belonging all to

Kirk. Suffering for Kirk. Because they both wanted it that way. And it made the love
deeper when Ev opened all of himself, dropped all barriers to give it up to his Master. A
gift—the greatest of them. Absolute trust. No way would he let Evan get away. This
was a D/s match made in heaven.

Kirk reached out to the man, almost but not touching. He loved seeing the sweat

trailing down Ev’s torso, his nipples clamped, cock and balls harnessed, and streaks of
reddened skin and dried wax decorating shoulders, chest and abs. The trail of leavings
from the candles went down into his groin. A series of small clamps pinched the skin of
his inner thighs right under his balls, one grasping the strip of his perineum under his
sac. Even without Kirk’s touch, Evan was rocking his ass, fucking the air with what
movement the spider web allowed. His pain and arousal were one and the same.

“How long should I keep you in this condition, sweetheart?” Kirk asked, scraping a

blunted nail down Ev’s abs to the tip of his erect penis, digging that nail into the
weeping slit of his cock head. The vibrator sunk in Ev’s ass was set at low and had been
working him for the entire session. His balls had crept up high on his body, so close to
explosion that Kirk marveled at Ev’s ability to hold it until he’d received permission to
ejaculate.

“Tell me how much you want to come, how much you want me to allow some

friction on that cock of yours. More importantly, how much you want to suck your
Master off. You serve me, sweetheart, make me feel good and I just might give you
relief tonight.”

“Master,” Evan groaned low, fucking his hips once more in the air, unable to

control himself. “Please.”

“Such nice begging. I don’t see you struggling to get loose anymore. You tell me

how you can’t get out. Tell me that you’re at my mercy. Do it now,” he said, his voice
hard, “or you’ll be in there all night.”

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As if the reminder triggered some primal response in Evan, he began struggling

again, rocking the wood-framed spider web. But Kirk had bolted it to their floor just for
this reason. Ev knew it. He’d helped sink the bolts himself. Yet Kirk’s sexy sub couldn’t
help but test it when goaded. Some element of rough struggle always played a part in
their sex. Evan craved it.

His body shook in the web, inarticulate cries of anger, pain and arousal rising from

him. Evan had carved the wood frame with tiny thorns and teardrops, the symbolism
bringing a smile to his sub’s lips when he’d finished the project and presented it to Kirk.
Remembering, watching the real tears drip down Ev’s face as Kirk tugged on the
clamps, and contrasting them to the carved version, pleased Kirk no end. Jesus, his
lover knew how to make him happy.

His cock hardened farther, if that was possible, pressing against the seam of his

jeans and digging into the zipper. The little pain drove the arousal higher. Kirk wasn’t
into pain himself, but his pain-pleasure receptors were tied together like most
everyone’s. If he was horny enough, the lines blurred to a small extent. Ev’s on the
other hand? Major cross wire. Pain wasn’t Ev’s sole or even dominant kink, so the two
had plenty of room for all sorts of creative play. He fucking loved doing anything to
this man. And Evan craved giving whatever was asked. His deep submission was
goddamn gorgeous.

“I can keep this up much longer than you,” Kirk added. “You’re only wearing

yourself out. You know I’ll get what I want in the end.”

Evan jerked his arms and legs, kept shaking the webbing. After minutes passed, his

movement lessened, died. His head and shoulders slumped in the rope.

“Can’t get out. I’m caught. Yours, Master,” he gasped and growled between

gulping breaths. “Your will.”

A fierce bolt of lust caught Kirk’s belly and balls. The special strength it took a

submissive to bear all his Master demanded was the wondrous and envious ability of a

Fettered Love

sub. To find that space of blissful spiritual peace, to accept the load and just be, was a
gift. Kirk doubted he could do the same.

He reached behind Ev and adjusted the button on the plug’s vibrator, increasing the

speed and intensity.

“Shit!” Evan shouted, hips pivoting again.

“What do you want, love? Tell me.”

“To suck you off, Master. Let me. Tell me what you want. Anything. God, Kirk, let

me do it. I’m going to come.”

“No, you’re not. Not until I tell you. But I’ll undo the straps and you’ll get on your

knees, sweetheart. Wrists crossed behind your back for me.”

Looking at the earnest, beautiful, exhausted man almost hurt as Ev stumbled down

from the webbing when freed. Fuck, Kirk was a hard-up goner on this guy. Ev lowered
himself to his knees with a grace that should have been impossible after suffering so
long. But he did it.

His wrists moved behind his back as ordered. He gazed up at Kirk with one long,

heavy glance, full of so much it made Kirk’s heart pound like a son of a bitch. Was it his
heart or his cock that ached worse?

He unzipped his fly and took out his cock. He threaded fingers through Ev’s sandy

hair and tugged, the grunt and sudden shutter of Evan’s eyes was almost as gratifying
as the look of bliss on his face when he opened them fully and bent forward to mouth
Kirk’s penis. In a long lunge, he engulfed the phallus in his hot, wet mouth, deep-
throating him immediately, using his tongue and teeth to deliver the pressure he knew
Kirk preferred.

Kirk just about crawled out of his skin, fireworks beginning to pop immediately in

his balls and the base of his spine. He wouldn’t last long. There’d been too much
anticipation behind this evening.

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He began ramming his cock deeper and faster between his lover’s lips, hitting the

back of Ev’s throat, fucking his mouth with a desperation he rarely felt. A fast track to
orgasm and amazing all over again. He watched himself shuttle in and out of his lover’s
mouth, those lips stretched around the shaft and wet trailing down Evan’s chin. Ev had
no gag reflex. Kirk had trained him out of it. But he knew his sub would feel the abuse
of his mouth and throat after the fact.

So good. So fucking hot. Building explosion. Jesus, Kirk was close. The suction grew

wetter, tighter. Kirk’s pace grew uneven, his hips losing their smooth rhythm. Tingling
flushed through his spine and balls.

Evan groaned around him, sank teeth into the skin of Kirk’s shaft.

Kirk exploded.

Jesus fucking Christ. He came hard with long streams of ejaculate filling Ev’s

mouth. Ev swallowed, milking him forever. Kirk gripped his hair hard, pulling at the
roots just to stay standing, until he emptied, his cock limp and his lover gently tonguing
it with affection. Evan removed his mouth and nuzzled the limp organ with his cheek.

Kirk brushed Evan’s nape, thumb trailing over it with tenderness suffusing

everything he was. Back and forth. “Enough, sweetheart. I want to see you come. Stroke
yourself for me.”

Ev’s eyes remained unfocused, spacey. “Can we wait until you’re hard again? I

want to come with you inside me.”

“Another time, love. I’m impatient tonight. Lie back stretched on the sawhorse, let

me watch.”

“But—”

“Now, Ev, or I’ll blister that fine ass of yours instead.”

“Yes, Master,” he added sarcastically.

Kirk fought down his urge to smile. He let Evan get away with too much as it was.

Fettered Love

Kirk tucked himself back into his pants while Evan moved to lie on his back along

the length of the sawhorse with his legs splayed and feet flat on the floor to either side.
He unapologetically gripped his cock and started the hard strokes he preferred. Kirk
forgot everything but how goddamn beautiful his sub looked and how much he needed
this man.

He stood next to the sawhorse, touching distance, gazing at Ev’s engorged cock and

the pulls and twists that brought it closer to shooting. Kirk rested his hand gently over
his lover’s windpipe, pressing on his throat over the leather collar with a cupped hand
and soft force. Not enough to restrict his airway, but enough to act as the reminder of
Kirk’s control, to deliver a teasing, arousing threat.

“Faster,” he ordered.

Evan’s breathing became rapid, his face twisting with the effort to keep from

coming until allowed. Kirk used his other hand to tweak the clamps at his groin, and
Evan moaned low and long.

“Jesus, you please me, sweetheart. You’re a fucking masterpiece, so hard and ready

like this. Do it for me. Come for your Master, Evan.”

As soon as the words hit the air, Evan’s hips flexed upward and he cried aloud.

Shooting seed through his fingers to spread over his stomach and chest.

Perfect.

Kirk held on to Evan by both his shoulders to keep him balanced on the horse

through the orgasm. And when Evan finished, Kirk stroked the wet hair at his forehead.
Kirk bent and pressed his brow to Ev’s, found his own heart pounding a marathon in
his chest.

After wiping him off, he helped Evan stand and supported him over to the bed in

their dungeon room, the dark sheets welcoming. Once on the bed, Kirk gently removed
the clamps, the cock ring and vibrator, moving slow to let Evan gasp through the pain
of blood returning to his skin. Kirk took out the oil to massage Evan and make sure the
strain on his body didn’t lead to permanent damage.

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“Flip to your belly.” His hands closed around firm muscle, worked the deep knots

in his neck and shoulders. And Ev, no matter his insistence on serving Kirk, let him
provide this care. It choked Kirk sometimes.

He hadn’t wanted to care for someone as much since Sarah.

Fuck her intrusive memory and the horse it rode in on.

Ev groaned with the deep massage, shifted on the mattress and settled deeper.

“Good.”

Kirk poured additional oil on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it before

covering more of Evan’s skin with the slippery stuff. “Turn to your back now.” He
continued the massage, trailing fingertips over Evan’s flanks, running them inside to
touch those hard abs. “You make me happy, sweetheart, you know that?”

“Sure I do.” His lover almost slurred the words, his lids drooping in post-sex

drowsiness once he’d shifted position. His cock still twitched occasionally as Kirk
touched a sensitive area, but he was falling off fast.

Uh-uh, no way would he let Ev escape his plans that easily. “Wake up.” He

grabbed his lover’s cock in one hard grasp and tugged.

“Ow.” Evan’s eyes were wide open now. That got his attention.

“You love it, don’t pretend otherwise.”

Evan grinned wide. “Whatever Master says.”

“Asshole.”

But Kirk was grinning too.

Time to do this. No wimping out.

He climbed fully onto the bed, going on all fours above the reclining Evan. “I have

something important I want to say to you, Evan. You going to pay attention?”

Evan laced his hands behind the back of his head, gave Kirk his best cocky but

attentive expression. “I’m listening. But if you’re going to bitch about pushing back our
vacation, you know I still need to finish those pieces for Stavos. His baby is due next

Fettered Love

week and his wife is squeezing his balls in a vise to get the furniture in the nursery in
time. I think he’s going to have a nervous breakdown soon if I don’t come through.” A
sappy grin spread over Ev’s face. “Actually, I don’t think Katie is really upset, she’s just
enjoying watching him squirm.”

“Damn Dommes. They can’t just deliver straightforward torture, they have to add

those mind games.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Like you never do that, Mr. Power Manipulation.”

Kirk put his hand to his heart. “Hey, I’m an upstanding, straightforward Master. A

whip is just a whip in my hands.”

Ev’s laugh made the deep warmth in his belly burn faster.

“Okay, Evan. I really do have something to discuss.”

The other man’s laughter died out, but his smile stayed in place. “Shoot, big guy.”

Kirk looked down at both their dicks. “I think we already did.”

That evoked the chuckle he hoped and relaxed the fist in his gut.

Just do it, idiot.

Kirk, hands fucking shaking now, went up on his knees and reached for the side

table drawer, opened it up and removed the box hidden under the toys. His palms
sweaty, he forced his eyes to stay on Evan’s face. The tremor was humiliating to his
sense of power but worth it. He fumbled open the box latch and took out the small links
of chain, long enough in diameter to fit comfortably around the base of his lover’s cock
and locking together at the end. Two smaller, finer-link chains were to hug and separate
Evan’s balls. All were created to be able to be worn on a daily basis. The small lock at
the end had involved the finest craftsmanship because it needed to work and not be at
risk of breaking. He’d talked to a dozen jewelry designers in the lifestyle before being
confident in his choice. He tilted the links toward Evan to place the cock jewelry on
better display.

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He swallowed hard. “It’s time, Ev,” he said, holding up the offering. “It’s been over

ten years. I love you. I’m pretty sure you love me.” He dragged in a breath. Fucking
wimp. “I want you to marry me. And I want you in my permanent collar, locked down
and belonging just to me. Forever.”

Evan’s mouth fell open, although he said nothing back.

“Well? I know I’m not on my knees below you. Kinda thought it wasn’t true to our

situation. I considered asking when you were on your knees, stuffed with my cock, but
then I wouldn’t be able to hear you answer. So on my knees, looming above, is the best
you’ll get.”

“Damn.” Ev shook his head, looking stunned.

“I’m pretty sure ‘damn’ is not a yes or a no.”

“You’re sure, Kirk? Sure you want this?”

He had no trouble answering. “Yes.”

“Let me up.”

“What?”

“You want a clear answer, from the whole me, I need to be standing equal with

you. It’s not just Evan your submissive answering. It’s your partner, your lover, your
friend. Let me up.”

Kirk moved, the hornets in his gut churning louder than ever.

Evan got off the bed, walked to the small fridge they kept in the dungeon and

grabbed a bottle of water, opening and chugging the beverage before wiping his mouth
and replacing the cap.

“The tease is killing me, Ev. You gonna tell me or is this some sort of twisted

payback? I didn’t fuck you like you wanted and you’re going to keep me strung up over
coals waiting.”

Ev flashed him the look that comment deserved and strutted over to the bathroom,

went inside and closed the door. Kirk heard the spray of the shower begin. He ran his

Fettered Love

hands through his hair and stalked to the fridge to get his own water. Fine, he’d wait. If
the answer meant the rest of their lives, he could do that. Maybe.

He sat on the edge of the bed, scared out of his mind. “He’s just fucking with you,

man,” he mumbled to himself. “He’ll say yes.” He repeated the mantra again and again
to keep himself sane.

So when Evan stormed out of the bathroom naked and dripping, straight over to

the bed and kneeled before Kirk, he jolted hard. “I thought you said you needed to be
standing equal to me?”

“Screw that. We’re equal no matter what. But if I do this, I also become yours in a

way I haven’t been before. I don’t care who’s standing in what position, but since I’m
the sub and I want you to pay attention, I’ll do it this way.”

Evan sat back on his heels, eyes averted to the floor, hands crossed behind his neck

with elbows out. A sub’s waiting position.

Kirk observed him carefully, used all his knowledge as a sexual Dominant, all his

years as Evan’s lover and Master to choose a path. “Speak.”

Evan raised his eyes. “With respect to my Master, there is nothing more I’d rather

do than marry him and wear his permanent collar.”

Kirk’s eyes closed in reflex. He pumped his fist with a silent yes before resting it

calmly on his thigh. “Thank you, love.”

“But—”

“But? No buts. Just yes.”

“I have one request before my answer.”

“Don’t play games, Evan. What do you need?”

“A child.”

Kirk choked. “Excuse me?”

“A baby. I want you to consider having a kid.”

Jesus. If he hadn’t been sitting, Kirk might have fallen over.

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“You have noticed the whole cock thing, right? We are biologically incapable and

we’re not living in any Schwarzenegger movie where men get pregnant.” A kid. Evan
wanted a kid. Okay, Kirk would deal. It freaked him out, but in fleeting moments, he’d
wanted the same. He loved Ev enough to agree to this. “Fine, if you want to adopt, we
can start the process. It’s damn hard for gay men, even in liberal Massachusetts. I don’t
want blinders on your eyes.”

“No.”

“No in what sense?”

“No I don’t want to adopt. I want one of us to be the father.”

“First— Fuck, I can’t have this conversation like this.” He grabbed Evan’s wrist and

dragged down his arms. “Stand up.” Kirk rose at the same time he gave the command.
He ignored Evan’s startled response and pulled the man to him. “And hold still because
I need this before we continue this conversation.” Kirk rested his palm at the back of
Ev’s neck, pulled his lips close and kissed him. With teeth, tongue and all the
desperation and anxiety he’d been feeling leading up to the proposal. He ate the other
man, needing to taste and rememorize the unique tang of Evan Sebastian Clarke before
he lost his mind.

He forced himself to pull back and sucked in a breath of air. “Okay now, what the

fuck do you mean?”

“I’m serious.”

“I didn’t think you weren’t, Ev. Are you saying you want us to get an egg donor

and surrogate? It might take draining our savings, but we could do it.”

“Yes. No.” He began to pace around the perimeter of the dungeon, deftly avoiding

the last of the flickering candles as they burnt down to nothing. Evan blew out a
frustrated breath. “You know the history with my mom.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“She paid Dad off. Hitting the road and assuaging her guilt through cash.”

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“Ev, you’re not like her. I’m not like her. Any kid we have we stick to him or her.

We don’t walk out.” Christ knew, he’d learned too much about how that felt.

Evan rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I’d have been out the door years

ago if I thought you were that type of guy.” He stopped the pacing, turned and crossed
his arms. “What I want is a permanent mom for our kid.”

Kirk needed a moment. He concentrated on slowly uncurling his toes within his

shoes. “I must not have heard you right.” Of all the ways Kirk had pictured the
proposal, he never imagined this conversation.

“You heard me. It sucked growing up without a mother.”

The last thing Kirk wanted was a woman involved in their lives. Been there, had the

t-shirt souvenir. “You survived pretty well. I survived it as well, for Christ’s sake.”

“You had a mom.”

“Sure, I had a frigid, controlling, uninvolved bitch who cared more about the family

business succeeding than her son.”

“Bitter much?”

“You know I’m over it. Don’t change the subject. Why does our kid need a mom?

Two intelligent gay men are more than sufficient to raise a kid. Especially such
upstanding, touchy-feely, hip, modern men. Fuck it, we went to Harvard. We own our
own businesses and live in Cambridge, the land of therapists in case our kid needs extra
support. We have at least some clue how to go beyond our own limitations if we need
help.”

“Shut up. What if we have a daughter? She’ll need a feminine influence. And to tell

you the truth, I don’t like the idea of buying off a woman. I want our child to know he’s
loved by all his parents.”

God, Ev still carried scars. Kirk forgot that from time to time.

“It wouldn’t be the same thing as your mom, sweetheart. I thought I was the

pessimist,” Kirk said.

Michelle Polaris

He preferred telling Ev no fucking way, but he stopped himself and looked closely at

his love, at the need pouring off his skin. He’d make one damn fine father.

“So, if we got a woman, how would that work?”

Ev bit his lip. Kirk’s cock lurched and he scolded the voracious organ for getting

turned-on when they needed to get through this disaster of a talk first. Kirk would
marry this man, get that collar around his cock and take care of him for the rest of their
lives. Ev needed his head on straight. Maybe he should tie him to the bedposts and fuck
the living daylights out of him.

“If we’re going to co-parent with a woman, we’d need someone also in the lifestyle,

also kinky.”

This got better and better. “Why? Our personal life is none of any woman’s

business.”

“She’d be the mother of our child. I don’t want big, looming secrets. And if she did

find out and had feelings about it like the rest of the close-minded vanilla world, we
might face trouble.”

“And where are we going to find a woman like this? Where do we find someone

who would agree to have a child outside of her own romantic relationships even if she
doesn’t want traditional marriage? Domme or sub, straight, lesbian or bi, I don’t think
any of the females we know fit that description. Or would go for it. And why would a
stranger want to raise a kid with two men she doesn’t know? She could just get her own
anonymous sperm donor.”

“We get help finding the right female.”

“I think you’ve been smelling too much carpenter’s glue in the workshop.”

“Wait. I have something to show you.” Ev strode out of the room with a suspicious

light in his eyes. He was back within a minute, a business card gripped in his hand. He
held out the card. “Here.”

Fettered Love

Kirk took it, hoping it didn’t burst into flames in his fingers. He’d look at the damn

thing for Ev’s sake. He read it. 1-800-DOM-help. He turned it over and read the
handwritten message on the back. Help for unusual problems in the BDSM community. He
handed the card back to Evan. “Your Dom is not having any problems, other than a
deranged submissive. You think they have solutions for this?”

“Come on, Kirk. Maybe they know the best places to advertise for the right woman

or find us the right match themselves. At least we can run it by another kinky female for
an opinion. Let’s call.”

“Where did you find this card anyway? Are they legit?”

“It was sitting on a table at our club last week. I have no clue if they’re legit, but we

won’t know unless we call.”

“You just found the card lying around?” He let the sarcasm drip out. “No question

then that they’re on the up and up.”

“I want this, Kirk. I want a child. To raise one with you. And he or she deserves a

mother even if we end up being kick-ass fathers. If we’re going to commit for the rest of
our lives, which I want, we can’t look at the short term. I love you. I want to build
something with you. And I know too many marriages broken up by differences in
expectations about kids. So we get this straightened out beforehand and not fuck up our
chances.”

“You want to build something. You sure you can’t just build more furniture?”

“Not funny. Now call the damn number.”

“You do remember who the Dom is in the relationship, yes?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Funny. You can lock me in the cock cage later as punishment.

Just call.”

Kirk hated this. He didn’t know why dread was crawling over his skin, it just was.

He nodded. If it would get Evan off this kick, he’d do it. Evan went to get his cell.

Kirk took it and dialed the number.

Michelle Polaris

Evan watched as Kirk hit the buttons on the phone and listened for an answer. As

the ringing continued, his lover tapped his fingers against his thigh. A tell. A nervous
Kirk was an unusual thing. Evan had thrown him tonight. A marriage and collaring
proposal were big enough as is. He wanted those so badly the taste of them coated his
tongue. But now he had Kirk facing the question of kids and a totally new element to
their lives. Hell, a new person. He deserved a little show of nerves and a massage later,
if Kirk would let him. But his Master got better every day at letting Evan care for him.
That change had been long and slow in coming but had arrived at long last.

God, he loved the man. He’d marry him no matter what happened. Most guys

would be running fast for the hills after their proposal was met with Evan’s response. It
was why Evan knew Kirk was for him. Kirk trusted him, lowered defenses for him. Put
up with his baggage. And aside from his own totally selfish reasons to make it
permanent with the guy, namely how deeply he’d fallen for him and how much he also
trusted, respected and admired, not to mention lusted after the bastard, he wanted his
Master at peace. He was pushing the baby as much for Kirk as for himself. He’d hoped
the years would heal the heartbreak, for both of them, if he were honest. And mostly
Evan had healed. Okay, he was only a little bit self-deluded about that subject. But Kirk?
Evan wasn’t convinced. Their commitment might make the difference. Kirk deserved
peace.

The ringing went on and on. Kirk scowled. “There’s no answer.”

“Don’t hang up.”

“Fine, it’s your crazy idea, you handle it.” Kirk thrust the cell at Evan.

He accepted the phone and listened to the ringing continue. “Shit, no one’s—” Just

as he was about to give up, a man’s voice answered.

“Thank you for calling 1-800-DOM-help. This is the Operator. How may I be of

assistance?”

Finally.

Fettered Love

“Um, hello. I found your hotline’s card at a local BDSM club, and I wondered if you

were equipped to handle an unusual problem my partner and I have run across.”

“No problem is too unusual for our hotline, sir. If it involves kink, we are the place

to turn. Why don’t you tell me a bit about your issue and I’ll let you know.”

Evan briefly outlined their situation, more sure every moment this was the right

move. Convincing Kirk would be another matter. He knew full well his Master was
only humoring him now. But sometimes the sub needed to lead the Master, for his own
good. He’d take the subsequent punishment later because he knew this was the right
thing for Kirk as well.

The Operator listened and responded, cool and collected, once Evan finished.

“Hold one minute, sir, and I’ll connect you to the consultant best able to help you.”

Evan held his breath. He better get good feedback or he’d be hard up to convince

Kirk.

“Hello, this is Mistress S, how can I help you this evening?”

With those words, he froze, shook his head and adjusted the cell phone against his

ear.

“Can I help you?” the woman repeated.

No. This was some type of auditory hallucination. The evening had been long, the

sex intense, even before Kirk’s proposal. The voice on the other end of the phone was
not who it sounded like. This was too weird. His skin prickled hard.

“Hello,” he finally managed. What other choice did he have but to get on with it

and figure out this shit? “The Operator connected me to you for help, if it pleases you,
Mistress.” He sure fell into old habits fast. Evan fought the innate reaction to her,
cleared his throat. “My partner and I, my Master, are hoping to get married and have a
collaring ceremony.” His words stumbled out of his mouth independent of his brain,
which was busy plotting how to confirm the woman’s identity.

“Go on.”

Michelle Polaris

“Problem is we want a family. It’s tough for gay men to adopt, and even if we

could, we’ve been discussing our preference to have a child biologically connected to
one of us.” Ev’s gravelly voice, still affected by the deep-throating, probably kept her
from recognizing him. If she was who he thought she was.

Kirk was staring at him as he spoke, his arms crossed and a frown on that gorgeous

face. Six feet of streamlined muscle. Dark hair, dark eyes, fine chiseled features, Evan
loved every plane of his lover’s face and body. Down to the scar on his chin from a bar
fight their senior year. But the woman’s voice on the other end of the line was churning
up old history, tearing open wounds he’d considered closed. Evan kept it close to the
cuff. No reason to stir up Kirk by showing an unusual reaction during the conversation.

Her voice continued. “Had you considered going through brokers specializing in

surrogate mothers? Some of those agencies also offer egg donor services. I don’t think
your D/s status will come up at all in that process if that’s what’s causing worry.”

“That’s not the problem.” As she spoke Evan became more and more certain he was

right about the voice. He focused hard to keep the actual problem in mind and not the
brand new one developing with the resurfacing of the past.

“No. We’re hoping to go a more unusual path. I prefer to have the mother involved

in the co-parenting of the child. It’s not that the baby wouldn’t have two involved
parents in me and my partner, but I…we feel strongly that the role of mother is not
replaceable.”

From the chair he’d chosen, Kirk snorted and raised his eyebrows at Evan’s use of

the word “we”.

Evan ignored him. “We believe our child would be healthier for having his or her

mom around, no matter the complications of the co-parenting arrangement.” He cleared
his voice. “I was hoping you might help us identify kinky women in the area who
might consider an arrangement with us. Who want a child, and maybe prefer less
entanglement with the potential father. We don’t want to keep secrets about our
relationship from a prospective mom, so we’d prefer someone in the lifestyle.”

Fettered Love

“Wow, this is no little goal.”

“I know.” God, it was her. He knew it. He remembered how often he’d heard the

same lilt in her voice when she was truly stumped over a problem. That same wow.

“Where are you two located?” she asked. “Our hotline services a wide area in New

England.”

“Cambridge.” Time to test her and see if he was going crazy or if she would react

hearing his name. “I’m sorry, I should back up. My name is Evan, Evan Clarke. My
partner Kirk and I are hoping for any help you can supply, Mistress.”

He met silence on the other end of the phone. Yes. Bingo. A sick hope lurched in his

gut, based on absolutely nothing but some funky extra sense, a deep knowing that this
call was meant to happen.

In the background, Kirk silently mouthed his disapproval that Evan exposed his

full name, making angry chopping sounds with his hands. Evan waved him off.

After moments, she stuttered out a reply. “I, uh, I’m sure I can help you. Perhaps

we can arrange a meeting in person. I can introduce you to a likely candidate and we
can go from there.”

“Where?” If he sounded too eager, he didn’t give a shit. “When?”

“Tomorrow night. Nine p.m. at Unfettered, a D/s club in Brighton.”

“Never heard of it, but I’m sure we can find it.” He didn’t care where they met. If

she’d said the moon, he would have nodded and asked for the exact coordinates to
program into his GPS.

“Great.” Her voice shook. He wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been listening for

it. “The street address is 1818 Bermuda. Not many people know about this one, and it’ll
be early so we’ll avoid crowds.”

“How will we recognize you?”

“I’ll find you. I get a sense of people talking to them on the phone.”

I just bet.

Michelle Polaris

“It will be both you and your partner? Kirk, you said his name was?”

As if she didn’t know.

“Yes. Kirk Simons.”

More silence and more angry gestures from his Master.

Keep pushing, Ev. She has to react. “By the way, any other name to ask for, if we have

trouble finding one another and I put in a word at the club bar?”

“Sar—” She stopped. “Just ask for Mistress S.”

“Great. Tomorrow at nine. Unfettered.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“’Nite. And thanks.”

She released a nervous laugh. “No problem.”

The call ended and Evan closed the phone.

“A little unsafe exposing our legal names, Ev. We do this, we’re going to do this

smart. I won’t take risks with you or me.”

“Trust me,” he answered. “I have a sense about this.”

His lover flexed his tightened jaw. “Well?” Kirk demanded. “At least tell me what

was said.”

“We’re meeting the hotline consultant at a club tomorrow. She wants to introduce

us to a potential candidate.”

“Fuck, that fast?”

“I guess.” He shrugged, dazed and fighting a buried excitement.

“She really thought this plan was doable?”

“She didn’t say.”

Kirk shoved his fingers through his short hair, groaned and closed his eyes.

Opening them, he met Evan’s gaze. “Promise me one thing. I do this, give it my best
shot to create this dream you’re envisioning, that you’ll marry me this fall, followed

Fettered Love

immediately by a collaring ceremony. Our nearest and dearest and your bare cock and
balls taking my lock and key.”

“If you want me, I’m yours.”

“I must fucking want you, sweetheart, to be considering this craziness.”

Evan smiled at him. The question remained, would Kirk still want him once he

realized who Evan had arranged for them to meet tomorrow night?

His memory blazed. His gorgeous Mistress, loving and harsh at once, whip poised. Arm

flashing down. Red haze of pain. And then after, her tender care, the light kisses along his abused
flesh. He hadn’t been afraid to name it as the mothering he had craved for years. And it hadn’t
bothered her. She appreciated his strengths just as much. Laughing with her later. Fixing up
their apartment together and finding the perfect spot to place the wood-tooled toy chest he’d
designed for her. Following behind her a pace into a crowded play area, damn proud to be hers, to
know how much she loved him. Loving her whole being, her mind, her fierce protectiveness, her
desire for life and her uncompromising morals. How she saw the entirety of him. Loving the
smell of her hair on their pillows, the feel of it trailing over his skin as she mounted him. Her
touch, soft and firm and everything. He loved it all. Always had. Always would.

The world spun back into focus. And Evan faced brand new possibilities. Sarah was

back.

Now if only she and Kirk could avoid killing one another.

Michelle Polaris

Chapter Two

The polished wood and low lights helped soothe Sarah’s crumbling nerves. Thank

god, they were meeting on a Tuesday night, low-key at any club. The less audience the
better for this encounter. She’d arrived half an hour early, settled into the big, comfy
chair next to a spattering of other patrons at Unfettered, and started rehearsing in her
head the arguments she’d use with Kirk and Evan. If Kirk let her get that far, which was
doubtful. God, she must be the universe’s greatest gift to stupid to show up here with
this idea.

Jared, the bartender on shift, waved over at her from behind the long counter,

asking with a gesture if she needed a refill. He’d introduced himself earlier as if he’d
known her forever. Strange, but she’d take any comfort at that point.

She shook her head and kept nursing the seltzer and lime, not because she enjoyed

it but because her mouth rivaled the Sahara with her rising anxiety, and alcohol was a
bad idea in this situation. She knew she was hurting if she couldn’t even spare an
appreciative glance at Jared’s bare pecs and sculpted abs, or try to fit him into categories
of Dom, sub or switch. She’d been out of the scene too long.

Although she’d referred callers to Unfettered as a resource to assist with their

problems, she had never visited. She’d only worked this job for a month since her move
back to Cambridge. But the hotline management strongly recommended the club as a
safe meeting ground for kinky souls trying to untangle their problems, and from what
she saw, she agreed. There were no public scenes at the moment, and despite the
hallways leading off to private rooms with the promise of any amount of pain or
pleasure to be found, the club emitted an aura of comfort as the few patrons strolled
around in leather and latex and other standard fetish wear. A strange aura for a BDSM

Fettered Love

club. Well, maybe not strange. BDSM, to her mind, was about honesty and trust, the
core of comfort and safety.

Tonight was about honesty. Whether she would regain Kirk’s trust, she didn’t

know. The big hole in her chest echoed louder even after twelve years. But she’d made
the only choice she could make at that time. She prayed like gangbusters Kirk and Evan
understood that now.

It amazed her they had ended up together. Not the male-male thing. She easily

believed both to be bisexual. Still, she’d never believed in destiny before. Perhaps it was
time to give the concept a whirl. Or maybe she was plain deluded.

Shards had filled her belly that last night—telling Kirk goodbye. Sarah stared

harder at her glass, sick as always with the memory.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She’d dropped by his suite in the Yard late, but not too late. Hoping to catch him

once his roommates from his quad had left to party their Saturday night to oblivion, but
not too late that she’d miss Kirk before he headed out to the private D/s play party he’d
inevitably found for the evening. She would have gone with him if she’d had her way
and her life hadn’t fallen into chaos—and if they hadn’t spent the last two and half
years tiptoeing around one another on campus, unable to settle the strain between
them. No, she refused to feel sorry for herself.

Sarah knocked on the door, waited. After several minutes, she started to turn and

go, sure she’d misjudged the timing, when the door opened.

There he stood, leather pants, shirtless, his short, dark brown hair exposing the

sleek lines of his face. Kirk could be mistaken for beautiful if one didn’t look at his eyes
and the unapologetic masculine power and sense of self that shone from them.

Her presence there clearly surprised him, and for a moment she spotted the

unguarded pleasure she’d loved seeing in him during their childhood together.

“You’re back.” He gripped the doorframe tight but kept his smile.

Michelle Polaris

“Yeah. I flew in this morning.”

“How’s your mom? I told you I wanted to go down with you. You shouldn’t have

to deal with that yourself.”

“She’s…not great. The doctors are saying to expect a long recovery. Months in the

hospital and then months at a rehab. They’re amazed she wasn’t killed in the car
accident. The entire driver’s side caved in around her.” When her numbness over the
accident broke, Sarah expected the pain to tear through her over her derailed life and
her mom’s disaster. For now she thanked god for her state of numbness.

“And the kids?” he asked.

“Afraid, in shock.” Like Sarah herself. “Confused but holding their own. Our

neighbor is watching them for me.”

Kirk stepped into her, placed a hand on her forearm and pulled her into the dorm

suite. “Come on. I was going out, but there’s been a change of plans. Let me get out of
the leather and we’ll go grab some food instead.”

It was the closest he’d come to warmth with her in months. God, she’d missed that.

But that proprietary hand on her arm was exactly the problem.

“No, it’s okay. You go out to the party. I can’t stay. I came to tell you something.”

“What?” His squinting eyes made it clear he’d heard a note in her voice and raised

his defenses again.

“I’ve unenrolled. I’m leaving again tomorrow to go back to Bernnod.”

“You’re helping at home the rest of the semester?” He stood taller, not moving but

appearing as if he’d stepped back from her anyway. His voice firmed. “You’ll damn
well be back for the next term.”

“No. I’m dropping out. Mom’s too injured. I’m moving home to take care of the

kids. There’s no one else, you know that. And Jassy’s just five. Paul is eight and Clay
turned twelve last month. When Mom gets home, she’ll need care, and if I don’t want
the state of Illinois to take the kids, I’m it.”

Fettered Love

“I know how old they are, Sarah. I was there helping you care for them for years.”

“Then you understand.”

“You have a little over four more months here before graduation. Let me help find

someone to care for them. I have some money. You know I do. Then we’ll both go home
and I’ll do this with you. It’s too much for one person.”

“You’re not their brother, Kirk. You have no obligation to help us.”

“You mean I’m not your boyfriend, don’t you? That might be true, but I’m your

best friend.”

Her blood iced. “Really? Since when? Since you started avoiding me after freshman

year? I didn’t choose to be a Domme. I’m wired that way. You discovered the D/s
world with me once we came here and were pissed when I couldn’t be a part of it the
way you wanted. I tried, dammit. All that first year. I can’t be your submissive if that’s
not me, and you’ve pushed me away because of it.”

“Bullshit. You walked away. Have you told your little subbie you’re leaving? Evan

must be crushed.”

His sarcasm thickened the icicles further.

“I spoke to Evan. He’s taking it in a much more mature fashion.” Screw this. She

should have known better. What they had was gone. So why did it hurt so much? She
knew why. Because she loved him.

“You’ve been with him two years and you’re walking away? True love, indeed. Or

is he following you home?”

“I won’t have time for a relationship with Mom and the kids. I told him so. He

needs to move on because he deserves a Mistress there for him all the time. He knows
himself and his needs and I respect that. You deserve more too. You deserve to move
on.”

“I have moved on.”

Her eyes rolled. “Obviously, because this bitter act is so convincing.”

Michelle Polaris

“Fuck you, Sarah. When have I ever wanted to do anything but help?”

She softened at the hurt in his voice and the reminder of his determined heart. God,

she wanted so much for this man. “You help almost relentlessly and sometimes even
when it’s not wanted. I understand it as the Dom in you taking charge, but you won’t
take that help back. It’s a two-way street. Even a Dominant is allowed vulnerability at
times. We might not have worked because of mismatched sexual preferences, but more
so because you couldn’t ever accept my help. You praised my nurturing to high heaven
when it was targeted elsewhere. I was Mother Teresa. But if I tried with you, you closed
me down. You better get this right in your life, Kirk, because any sub worth her weight
needs to take care of you as much as you do her.”

“Are you through?”

His mask was back. He’d closed down, just as she’d said.

“Because I find it ironic,” he continued, “that you’re lecturing me about accepting

help when you’re charging back to bumfuck Illinois to play savior to your family all
alone.”

“You hate it there. You worked your butt off for this degree and you have dreams,

and the balls to make them happen. You think I want you up my ass back home
‘helping’ and growing more pissed every day that I can’t be what you want and you
can’t get what you want lost in the corn fields?” Her breathing was faster than she
liked. She wanted to turn tail and run, but if this was goodbye, she needed to do it
better than this. “I love you more than that, Kirk. I love me more than that because I
don’t want us to end up hating one another. I have to leave and you have to stay. I’m
sorry if you don’t like that.”

Kirk’s stare bore through her. His jaw clenched and his fists closed tight around air.

Finally he spoke, an automaton. “My party starts in ten. I’m late. Sounds like you might
have an early flight. Say hello to your mom for me when she’s able to understand and
same to the kids.”

Fettered Love

This was it. Shit. She would not cry. No way. She was more or less asking to end it

and he was obliging. Too bad it meant pulling all her organs inside out in her body.

“Goodbye, Kirk. Take care of yourself.” She turned around and left him, trying

hard not to stumble—the sensation worse than any flogging, any caning she’d given or
received.

There was no pleasure in the pain that existed where she was headed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Twelve years. Fighting the almost daily urge to pick up the phone and call him.

Evan too, although she’d never imagined the number would be the same. All her cool
Domme mojo deserted her while waiting for them at Unfettered.

As she tapped a staccato beat on the tabletop, a woman Sarah guessed was the

manager strolled over to her, her long black hair and blue eyes leaving the impression
of a sleek raven. Although on the short side and conservatively dressed for a kinky
venue, she emitted a vibe of power. If Sarah had to lay money, she’d guess Domme.

“Hello. You’re new here. My name’s Dru.” She extended her hand.

Sarah rose, taking her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.”

“The hotline sent you.”

Sarah started, taken aback that Dru knew this information. No one at work had

mentioned it.

Her low, pleasant chuckle set Sarah at ease. “Don’t worry. The management there

places a courtesy call to Unfettered when they’ve sent clients this way. They said one of
their new staff might make an appearance.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a slow
night, no out-of-line Doms or subs to manage. No public scenes to monitor.” She
winked. “Too bad, huh? But it’s early yet.”

“Is this place new? I’ve only hit town recently, but my friend, I mean client, hadn’t

heard of you and he’s been around the scene in Boston for some time.”

Michelle Polaris

“We are new. And very selective in our clientele, so we spread the word in an

untraditional manner.”

“I guess that explains it.” The nagging questions about the place still hovered, but

she had more important things to worry about. Such as if she were about to be smashed
into a million tiny bits by the two men who meant the most to her—or if her heart were.

Dru cocked her head at Sarah, examining her too closely. “You look a bit wound up

tonight. I’d send one or two or ten of the club submissives your way to relax if I didn’t
know you were working.”

“I look that bad?”

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of your paddle tonight.

Though I wouldn’t mind watching.” A cat grin spread over her mouth.

Sarah liked the woman.

“It’s been awhile.”

“Is that it or something else?”

“I…” What did someone say to a stranger when she comes face-to-face with one of

the worst screw-ups in her life and worried there was no making it better? And a huge
clock was ticking over her head, about to gong midnight, end the party and come
crashing down to splinter her dreams.

“No,” she shook her head. “It is more. I decided to take a chance this evening. It’s

scaring the shit out of me.”

“Good. When we forget to take some chances, we lose ourselves, or at least the

potential for new kinds of wonderful.”

Sarah couldn’t help but smile. “You both run the place and offer philosophical

advice. Thanks, Lucy. Do I owe you a nickel?”

Dru chuckled again. “Nah, Charlie Brown. This one’s on the house.” She turned

toward the front entrance of the club. “I think you’re up.”

Fettered Love

The direction of her gaze drew Sarah’s attention to the two men currently walking

into Unfettered. She dismissed the way Dru had known exactly who she expected and
lost herself drinking in the sight of the guys. The thick beat of blood through her veins
pulsed with feelings she dared not name. Dark contrasted with sandy-haired as Kirk
walked ahead of Evan, her former submissive wearing only a leather G-string and
collar, head bent and following Kirk in his leather pants and boots, his white shirt
opened at the chest to display the dark hair dusting his pecs.

She watched as Kirk stopped, murmured behind him to Evan, who raised his head

and scanned the club. Sarah wished she’d remained seated and less easily spotted,
wanting to push off the inevitable and dying for it to rush to her at the same time.

She knew the exact moment Kirk spotted her. The temperature dropped in the

room. Her pulse sped as his eyes lit up wide then spiraled down to irate fire. He
pivoted and approached the bar, consulted with Jared in a furious whisper. Jared tossed
his head in her direction. Kirk’s shoulders went rigid but slowly he turned her way.

Evan, interestingly, had rested his eyes on her the entire time, looking unsurprised.

They approached and she held steady. You can do this, girl. They loved you once.

Kirk stopped in front of her. “What are you doing here?” He’d positioned himself

in front of Ev, as if protecting him.

Evan moved sideways, came parallel to his Master, keeping his gaze up and

fastened on her.

“I’m the consultant from the hotline Evan called.”

The scorching anger from Kirk flowed through the air, taking on a life of its own.

“Of course the fuck you are. Did Evan know it was you?”

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” Evan contradicted.

“What?” She turned his way, shocked.

“I recognized your voice, Sarah. How are you, Mistress?”

Michelle Polaris

She dipped her head. “Don’t call me that. I don’t deserve it anymore.”

Kirk’s fists tightened by his side. “You should have had the decency to transfer the

call to someone else once he told you his name. How low to show up here.”

Her head swung up. “Apparently Evan didn’t have a problem with it.” She bit her

tongue after the words, knowing she only made things worse.

“Do you even have a prospective mother in mind? Or is this just a game? After

twelve years, I have no clue who you’ve become.”

“I’m still me, Kirk. It’s no game. I wanted—”

“If you wanted something from us, you should have called once during this last

decade.”

“Kirk, give her a break.”

“Why should I? She broke your heart. I only thank god I was smart enough to come

around and pick up the pieces.”

“Since I seem to be whole now, and I’m no wilting flower, maybe you can stop

being an asshole for one moment and just sit down for a conversation.”

She liked this side of Evan. She’d seen some of it years ago when they were

together. He’d been completely hers at that time, but that never meant he was without
backbone.

“Fine,” Kirk bit out. “I’ll sit. But I’m not promising sunshine or even manners.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Damn subs,” Kirk mumbled.

Ev pulled out the chair for Kirk and then came around and did the same for her,

bending his head to her as he did. “Mistress,” he murmured, gesturing her into the seat.

He made it look so easy. Evan excelled at that, putting everyone at ease. It was one

reason she’d fallen in love with him. He liked people, liked being kind, liked giving to
her from a genuine warm place in his heart. He fell into submission so easily, deep and
with his entire being. He craved giving a Mistress, or a Master she supposed, anything

Fettered Love

that truly touched the soul with pleasure. Thoughtful, funny, intelligent, artistic. God,
she’d been an idiot to walk away from that because of a misguided need to sacrifice and
be a martyr. She’d wasted over ten years of her life. Well, not wasted. Her siblings’
successes were testimony to the worth of her sacrifice. She struggled to figure out how
it could have been different and came up empty.

Evan folded down on his knees next to Kirk’s chair, a standard waiting position,

but if he couldn’t quite keep his eyes averted, his Master didn’t seem to notice or care.
Ev’s hand snaked to Kirk’s knee, rested there in reassurance to help the dark-haired
man soothe the frothing agitation radiating from him.

“Permission to speak, Master?” Evan said.

Kirk turned to him. His face relaxed an increment, shoulders dropped. “Thank you

for trying to take care of me in this shitty situation. But you are just as much a part of
this. I promise you can coddle me later. Get up, sit in the chair. Our presence at a club
notwithstanding, I think we’ve blown away our typical rules for the scene.” He cupped
a palm against Ev’s face and rubbed a thumb against his cheek before releasing.

Amazingly, Ev reached over and did the same to him as he stood. Kirk let him.

Maybe things had changed for Kirk. She hoped so.

“So what do you want?” Kirk bit out as he refocused on her while Evan sat.

“To see how you are. To apologize. To congratulate you on your upcoming

wedding.” She gnawed at her lip. “To maybe help. Evan tells me you want a child.”

Kirk crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Quite an agenda. But I think we

can figure this out without you.” His lips tightened, a beat passed. “How is your family,
by the way?”

The usual stroke of sadness hit. “Mom died two years ago. She never really

recovered. Jassy went off to college this year. Paul’s almost done. Clay has been on his
own but helping out since he graduated. He seems to be content to stay in town.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “About your mom. She never had it easy.”

Michelle Polaris

“No. But the ten years after the accident were no way to live.” The nausea roiled,

but she swallowed it back. She refused to let her regret leach away her effort to build
something new, something better. Finally.

Evan rested his palm on top of her knuckles and she sucked in a shaky breath. So

gentle. Nothing she’d had in her life for years.

“What’s going on, Sarah? I’m happy to see you, but tell us.”

She took a deep breath. If she could just keep her lips moving. “I moved back here

six months ago. The hotline is temporary work, but I’ve found a job and I begin
managing a local food pantry next week. I wanted to come back to Cambridge. I’ve
contacted Harvard and I can finish up my credits through their extension school. I’ll get
my degree, work my job. Rebuild my life.”

Evan’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry, Mistress. Not off the hook that easily, although I’m

glad to hear about school and the job. I meant, what’s going on that brought you here.
You said an apology and to help. What do you mean?”

Ev always did go to the heart of a matter. Time to take the risk. Either she did this

or she needed to accept this unfinished part of her life and move on.

Deep breath. “I have a proposition.” Her teeth bit into her lip and she forced her

mouth to relax. “I’m offering to become the mother of your child. I’d stay out of your
way and work to arrange the financial and time-share parts of it so we can all be happy.
I want to be a mother and have my own children. And frankly, I haven’t met anyone
interesting back in the scene. They don’t…fit anymore. I’d rather choose something I
know I want, a baby, with men I respect instead of meaningless scenes.”

And it was the truth. Mostly.

“No,” Kirk answered.

Evan turned to him. “Let’s discuss this.”

“No discussion. She can’t walk back into our lives and tell us she wants to mother

our children.” He leaned closer. “You just finished caring for three kids and sacrificing

Fettered Love

your personal life for years. I’d take a careful look at yourself, dear, wanting to jump
back into child-rearing. If this is about guilt over leaving us, our desire for children
won’t be the mechanism to get rid of it.” He raked his hair. “Plus, babe, I plain don’t
want your offer.”

“If I have guilt, it’s not enough to drive me to this type of decision. I’ve thought this

through. You two are the finest men I know. I’ve always wanted my own kids, Kirk.
You know that.”

He said nothing. This wasn’t going to work. God, what was she going to do? All her

stoicism since the doctor’s news had crumbled to dust once she’d tasted this chance at
reconnecting with the two men she loved most in the world.

Evan squeezed her hand tighter. “Sarah, I want to hear your thoughts, but you’re

sure you don’t need time on your own? A personal life gets quite a cramp with
pregnancy and a baby. You deserve space for yourself.”

Her stomach fell, but she refused to pull out the guilt card of her medical situation.

They’d make their choices without the little extra tidbit of information. Even if it killed
something inside her. It wasn’t giving up the idea of a baby that hurt most but closing
the door on even the chance to rebuild the friendships with them. She’d trade away her
dream of children to be with these men. Her heart, no less her soul told her they were
worth it.

She shrugged with calculation. “I’ve tried for six months to find a personal life that

feels good. It’s not doing it for me.” She searched his face. “You won’t take my offer
either.”

“I’m not saying that.”

Kirk sent him a nasty look.

She sat straighter, hyperaware of every nuance of Kirk’s expression. “If I do this

with you, I’d have free time when you two have the baby. I never assumed this was a
live-in position.”

Michelle Polaris

“There’s no position available at all. I do not trust you,” Kirk said with ice in his

words.

She blinked her eyes slowly, to give herself time to breathe past the fire in her

lungs.

“Shut up, Kirk,” Evan said, and turned to her. “Do you want it to be a live-in?”

Kirk fisted his hands on the table. “You have to be fucking kidding me, Ev? You do

see me sitting here? I won’t be part of this.”

Stupid girl. What did you think would happen? “It’s all right, Evan. He doesn’t want it.

I was ridiculous to propose it. The last thing I want to do is hurt either of you again.”

“Not all right, Sarah, because I would like this. It makes perfect sense to me that a

woman I love should mother my children.”

The air in the room disappeared into a vacuum—there one moment, gone the next.

Loved her? Evan still loved her. She let the dam break inside her chest and the waves of
grief and longing roll out into the rest of her body, the desperate love she’d banked for
both men over the years rippling over her. She swiped at the single tear escaping her
eye, frantic to force back the deluge.

Kirk pushed his chair away from the table with a scrape. “You don’t love her.”

Evan frowned. “I love you, Kirk.” There was a frigid edge to his voice she’d never

heard. “You know that. And I respect you and all those funky hurting parts of you that
are skewing your thinking right now. But I won’t let you throw away a chance like this.
If you love and respect me too, you’ll consider this.”

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

“I know. I know how you’ve felt all these years. We tiptoe around all that leftover

garbage you two share. You were best friends since you were six and she was eight.”

“Relationships end and new ones begin. We will find another way. You may be

willing to consider this, but I will not. Having a kid with her is no fucking type of
relationship therapy.”

Fettered Love

He turned to Kirk and stood, looming over him. “Do you trust me?”

“What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing with you all this time? Would I be

here if I didn’t?”

“So yes, you do.” He thrust his finger in her direction. “And I trust Sarah. So do me

the damn courtesy of a chance to show both of you this is the right thing to do. Trust me
to know something about the two people I love and listen to my proposal.”

Kirk glared. Evan glared back. Kirk’s jaw ticked. Evan crossed his arms. Waited.

And won.

“Fine,” Kirk said from between gritted teeth. “What’s the ridiculous proposal?”

The smile broke out from Evan’s thunderous expression, as if ready to burst

through with the least provocation. “Good.”

He pulled out his chair and sat again. “I want us to share a scene. You and Sarah

working together to dominate me. You sit down and plan side by side to make it work.
All I ask is that you give a true effort to do this with her.” He glanced her way. “I know
the two of you can work together. You never tried this when you were crashing around
against each other as your friendship disintegrated in college.” Evan snorted, seemingly
at himself. “Think of it as making my perfect erotic dream come true if you won’t do it
for any other reason.”

Kirk’s stunned expression matched her insides.

“I haven’t shared you for the past five years. No joint scenes. And now it’s with

her?”

“I recall,” Evan answered. “Get over it this one time.” His face softened again. “I

want to spend my life with you, but I don’t want regrets. Try it for me. If it doesn’t
work or change how you feel, so be it. I’m begging you. I need it. You do too if you’d
only admit it.”

“Dominating you together has nothing to do with Sarah mothering our child.”

Michelle Polaris

“Personally, I think all this shit is tied together. But what do I know? I’m just the

manipulative sub.” He grinned wide.

A weighted minute passed. Kirk sighed. “Okay.”

“What?” Sarah must have misheard.

“I’ll agree for Evan’s sake. If you will.”

The man had definitely changed. Sick hope lurched in her stomach as she nodded

in shock. “I’ll do it.”

From her side vision, she caught a strange, unguarded expression on Kirk’s face as

he stole a glance at her. Longing maybe. The look vanished.

For a moment, the loud tick of her biological clock prematurely dwindling down to

the endgame grew softer, overcome by the thick, wild sound of her lurching heart
racing to catch a future with these men she loved.

Fettered Love

Chapter Three

The tile halls of the regal old building swallowed too much sound for Kirk’s

comfort, making it preternaturally quiet. This was a place people whispered, even when
not required. He was still trying to figure out why he’d agreed to meet Sarah here. But
the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was a favorite of hers from years before and she
had suggested finding someplace sedate for their talk. As if that would make a
difference. Before he knew it, he’d mentioned the historic home turned art museum in
Boston, its collection a legacy of a remarkable woman who’d acquired the objects filling
its corridors.

He woke unsettled today, knowing he would face Sarah again by late morning. In

bed, after returning from Unfettered last night, Kirk had wanted to shake Evan, rouse
him from where he slept peacefully like a babe drunk on whiskey. Demand an
explanation for ripping all of his neat, orderly plans into messy shreds, and let Kirk take
out the evening’s frustrations on Ev’s body. What the hell did he have to be so relaxed
about? She’d stomped over his heart along with Kirk’s. Abandoned them both.

Kirk realized the depths of his immaturity in his reaction to her. But the slow boil of

desire, of need to take her in his arms and hold tight, descended whipcord fast the
moment he’d spotted her. He hated that, the ropes that still bound him to her.

He stood in front of the museum painting now, sick to his stomach after Evan

forced him to choke down breakfast earlier. They’d agreed to meet here right after the
museum opened. And he knew the second she stepped next to his side, needing no eye
contact to identify the warmth and vibration of her body or her unique scent. Sarah.

Kirk closed his eyes against it.

“She’s still as beautiful,” her feminine voice murmured.

Michelle Polaris

Yes, you are, came his immediate thought. Though she’d meant the woman to the

center left in the painting.

“Sargent was a genius,” she said. “Do you see how lost she is in the mood and

music? As if she’s in a trance. I like to imagine it’s the wee hours of the morning and
she’s been singing, her voice deep and throaty now after the abuse. She’s at the point
she can only hum to the strain of notes.”

Sarah’s soft, rapt description of the painting forced him to look at her. And there

she was, her face caught on the picture, lost in her own trance, considering El Jaleo,
Sargent’s large canvas that hung in the Spanish Cloister of the Gardner. It had always
been her favorite.

Kirk swallowed around the boulder in his throat. Cleared it so he could speak and

not make a damn fool of himself. “Ev looks like that when he’s deep.” He didn’t know
where the comment came from or why it didn’t bother him to discuss his lover with his
ex. The words rolled off surprisingly easily.

Her eyes widened until she focused them back on El Jaleo and tilted her head. A

tiny smile built on her lips. “You’re right. He looks just like that. Or he did once upon a
time.” Her chin dipped lower. “Was he… Is he okay?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Her lip twisted to the side as her head rose. “I love him, Kirk. What do you think?”

There was that stubbornness he’d adored, covering a transient look of pain.

A shot of guilt licked up his spine, but he shook it off. “Yeah. He’s okay. Great

actually. He owns his own business creating artsy wooden furniture. Quite boutique.
Very gay. He’s been flooded with orders, but the son of a bitch still works as slowly as
he thinks a piece deserves, as if he has all the time in the world. He’s lucky he’s so good
because people wait.”

Her shoulders rounded and a smile returned. “He’s amazing.”

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

Fettered Love

She gestured him on. “Let’s walk.”

He almost smiled at her unconscious air of authority. A Domme, no question. How

had he missed it for so many years? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to see. Fuck, if only she’d
just let him take care of her. It was who he was.

They left the Cloister and started wandering the rest of the collection, passing the

cordoned-off Courtyard.

Their bodies bumped into one another and his muscles tightened. When he

watched her lack of reaction from the corner of his vision, his limbs loosened. They
continued in what he would have called companionable silence if his hadn’t been full of
confusion.

“What about you?” she asked, as if they were casual old acquaintances catching up

at a party. “What do you do with your time?”

He froze in his steps. “We’re here to deal with Evan’s request, not for idle chitchat.”

She turned to him. “Look, Kirk, I know you don’t want to be doing this, but we

have to at least be civil to pull off a reasonable scene.”

Fuck. She was right. When he thought about blowing the scene off, saying no to

Evan, his heart ached.

“Fine. Conversation.”

“Your jaw must throb from all that clenching. Relax, kid, I won’t bite. I just wanted

to know what you do. Besides being Evan’s Master.”

Kid. Her nickname for him growing up. He remembered how she’d teased him over

their age difference, and loosened more. “I run an outdoor adventure business for teens.
Teach them mountaineering, survival skills, teambuilding. We go out on treks from
days to weeks. I focus on kids in trouble. It centers the ones who don’t come built that
way. The struggle to survive gets them to let go a lot of baggage and builds self-
confidence. It’s not for all kids, but if I help a few it’s worth it.”

“I knew you’d turn out that way.”

Michelle Polaris

Her wry voice made him pause. “What way?”

“A helper. But doing it your own, tough way. No matter how it happens, you’ll

make a great dad.”

He grunted, not sure whether he liked the compliment or not. “I think we need to

plan Evan’s evening.”

Her brow wrinkled and he watched her willingness to transition cross her face.

“Have his tastes changed? His hot buttons or limits?”

“No. Expanded some maybe. He asks for more cock and ball torture. He still likes

to struggle, it gets him deep.”

She paused before the next stairwell, hand on the rail, foot poised halfway to the

step. Where had her mind strayed?

Jesus, this entire interaction was surreal.

“Our scene should be stirring him up,” she said, brow wrinkled in that way she had

when she struggled to solve a problem. “It obviously means something unique to him.
We need to deliver something special since this is a one-time deal. Maybe we shouldn’t
give him anything to struggle against. Soft. Kill him with love and kindness. I
remember how he liked it hard and how tempting it was to give him what he asked for.
You’re right that he uses the struggle to build until he loses himself. But I wonder if
that’s too easy. He goes under so fast, I don’t think he really surrenders the difficult
emotional stuff to get there. Maybe the soft will bring him somewhere else, make him
face something else.”

Kirk paused. Yes. There was something to what she said. His center steadied. He

found her unstudied contemplation damn sexy.

No. No distraction.

She’d given him an insight to which he’d been blind. Dammit, she knew Evan after

all these years. They’d plateaued, he and Evan. To a comfortable place but maybe too
comfortable. His job as Master was to break Evan down to his core and use the instincts

Fettered Love

he’d honed in the scene to identify just what his lover needed most to grow. Failing on
the job, Kirk’s only excuse was blindness after falling head over ass in love. But beating
himself up wouldn’t get the job done now, would it?

He refused to let his ego block the acknowledgement of his shortsightedness. His

lover didn’t deserve that. So he took a breath and nodded at her. “As peaceful and
pleasant as Evan presents himself to the world, I still see glances at times of something
darker. I see it when he talks about his mom. I think some of this baby stuff is tied up in
it.”

“So we start kind and gentle,” she said. “No matter how he begs. What she never

gave him and perhaps what he’s not so sure he deserves.”

They proceeded to the next floor and walked in silence again. They reached a well-

known painting of Isabella Stewart Gardner, the patroness, and stopped.

Sarah squinted at the picture. “The docents say her husband hated this painting.

She’d been staying in Venice without him when it was done.”

“She looks to be in her late forties in the portrait. Done having children and

searching for a wild freedom. Up to no good away from ole hubby? If so, no wonder he
hated the portrait.”

Sarah frowned. “Maybe she was just lonely.”

Her words echoed with a hollowness that dug below his surface and stirred

sadness. But Sarah’s loneliness wasn’t his damn problem.

Still, he couldn’t help himself. The question fell out without planning. “How hard

was it, Sarah?”

She jolted, dipped her head, her lips pressed tight. “Isn’t this against your ‘no small

talk’ policy?” She shook her head. “If I start talking about it, I don’t know if I can keep it
together.”

Fuck.

Michelle Polaris

Every muscle twisted, tightening until he thought they’d snap like brittle strings of

a guitar wound too far. “I hate this, you know? Thinking of you suffering.”

“I know, Kirk.”

He tried to keep it back. The darker words gagged him, coming up his throat until

he let them fly. “It killed me, but it’s also why I’m pissed as hell at you. Why do it that
way? Alone and not calling us? Even in college when we lost our easy friendship we
still loved each other. How could you treat that love so badly?”

She whispered back furiously, “I saw no other way back then. I’m not sure I see

another now in hindsight. I’m sorry I hurt you, but once I started down that path, it
didn’t seem fair to call. You had your own life. And if I stopped and thought about it,
what I was doing, I would have lost it then too.”

They walked ahead, the air a lead brick between them. The beauty around them

contrasted with his pain.

“You know I checked on you,” he finally brought himself to say. “I called a few of

the guys back in Bernnod. Found out you were working two jobs, seven days a week.
And your mom needed nursing home care, but you kept her home.”

“We didn’t have the benefits for any place that wasn’t a hellhole.”

“So you broke your back when I had the money. Everyone knows how responsible

you are. You didn’t have to prove it.”

“Kirk, stop.”

His fists squeezed hard in the effort to keep his volume down. “You had to care for

your family. I get that. I just wish…”

Her head dipped. “Maybe it was a control thing. I had to do it. I had to make it all

right, or it never would be, you know? Mom was selfish to have us all given how
spectacularly ill equipped she was to take care of us. But she didn’t care. Well I did,
Kirk. It matters to me what kind of mother I would be.”

Fettered Love

“Fuck, Sarah. I can’t let it go. You want to be part of our lives again, but what

impossible task will call superwoman away again? How do I trust it?”

“I guess you can’t,” she said. “I can only apologize. I don’t regret what I did, but I

do regret there were no other options. And how that hurt you.”

“I want to forgive, but… Ev may be okay, but he pined after you for years. I was

jealous of your magic with him, the impact you’d made on him for a long time. Jealous
of how quickly he fell for you. I can’t risk him getting hurt. And you won’t take another
person I love away from me.”

“I wasn’t planning to take him from you.”

“I wasn’t talking about Evan.”

Silence. Everything inside his chest hurt.

Sarah cleared her throat and stood straighter. “So here we are again. Controlling

fools who need to have it our way to feel safe and prove we aren’t the same selfish
screw-ups as our parents.”

Jesus, he wished he could let go. He sucked in a breath and forged on. “I don’t

believe Evan’s plan will work, but I’ll give him this gift. And for one night together
we’ll blow his mind. So let’s get this goddamn planning done with.”

Silence again. She nodded. “Eloquent, Kirk. But yes. Let’s do it.”

They’d reached a set of benches. She thrust out the bag she’d been carrying, a large

female thing designed to hold everything and the kitchen sink. Or maybe a small
aircraft carrier. “Here. Watch this. Nature calls for even us rusty Mistresses.”

Jesus, he loved that about her. That she could take their intensity and infuse some

humor into what stood to rip them both to shreds. Loved that she took her breaks when
she needed them and never apologized.

“Yes dear,” he drawled.

Michelle Polaris

She quirked those expressive eyebrows at him. “Since you’ll never be a henpecked

husband, chalk the experience up to getting in touch with how the other non-Dom
vanilla half of men live. It’s good for your character.”

“If you say so.”

The hint of her smile was back. She stuck out her tongue at him, did an about-face

and marched off in search of restrooms. Both of their jagged edges needed the respite.

Kirk sat, all of his bones weighted with fatigue from their talk, and placed the bag

on the bench next to him. But the damn thing was so full it fell over on its side,
unbalanced. Papers and odds and ends spilled onto the seat. Sarah’s web phone fell out
and to the floor with a clatter.

Shit.

Kirk bent to scoop it up and his thumb brushed the screen, unlocking it. She’d left it

on a browser screen, with the last web page she’d been visiting still featured on the
phone. He looked down, did a double take reading the paragraph header highlighted
on the screen.

Premature Menopause.

His eyes flew over the words again. He read farther, the gears in his head spinning

at high speed, processing the implications of why she’d have this particular web page
up on her phone. On the wood next to him, an appointment card caught his eye. Dr.
Felistar, M.D., OBGYN, Ph.D., Center for Fertility Outcomes. Kirk gazed in the direction
Sarah had disappeared.

“Son of a bitch.”

The full picture clicked into place and his heart started to beat funny.

All at once, his clear decisions fogged to fury, heartbreak and a confused mess.

Fettered Love

Chapter Four

The first surprise Saturday morning was waking with Kirk gone. Although an early

riser, his Master usually made lots of noise stomping around finding his clothes or
making his coffee or searching for his phone. It inevitably woke Evan. This new stealth
Kirk provoked the initial bite of tension to a day that promised to be unforgettable.

Tonight. Unfettered. Kirk and Sarah putting him through his paces. Heaven or hell?

He wasn’t sure and the anxiety tasted damn fine.

The second surprise when Evan finally roused himself from bed was the printout

he found under his carefully laid out mug and cereal bowl. Kirk always set them out on
the counter as if he were afraid Evan would forget to eat breakfast without the help. The
silly bastard. But he loved Kirk for the gesture. That Dom ego was twistedly endearing.

Evan shook his head in familiar amusement, took the sheet and began to read. The

printout was from a medical website. Curious. The topic was premature menopause.
Kirk had underlined those words in red and drawn an arrow to the margin where he’d
written one word. Sarah.

His skin went cold. Holy crap. No wonder.

Oh Sarah. Mistress.

An impulse to call her zipped through his body and brain. He found himself

reaching for his phone, a need to soothe away her pain a driving instinct.

No. This was hers to tell. He respected her more for making her proposal without

telling them. She’d been born to be a mother, letting it define who she was for years as
she struggled to be the very opposite of her own. Had she confided in Kirk when they
met to plan their night? He doubted it.

Evan’s next thought was for Kirk and how he was reacting to the news. Did it

change anything for him? So much rode on tonight. No matter Kirk’s reaction or his

Michelle Polaris

own for that matter, the same things needed to happen. The same healing. And his
same wish to taste his dream. Shit, he wanted it so bad. A picture of Kirk flashed
against his retinas. He waited for the guilt to rise for still loving Sarah after all the years
of Kirk’s devotion. Nothing. Love was bigger than that. Bigger than just their two
scraggly souls. Or so he believed.

What came instead was a quick jag of desolation and a picture of Sarah walking

away years ago. The deep sense of loneliness her leaving had triggered had wrapped
around him to suck down all he valued in himself. How it had caused a return to the
little-boy feelings from years before that. He’d fought through a minefield to come out
whole from his childhood and had mostly won until her abandonment their last year of
school. He didn’t blame her and he hated that the images flew at him, but they did.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kirk ringing the bell of his apartment. Evan stumbling from the bed he hadn’t

vacated the two weeks since she left. That first look of shock when Kirk caught sight of
him. “Fuck, Evan. What happened to you, man?” His second more searing examination.
“Of course. She’s fucked you up. Well, I’m not letting her decision screw up anyone
else. You are getting in the shower, and then we get you coffee and food.”

He’d barged in, swiping up the debris around the apartment with a look of disgust.

“No more wallowing. That’s over.” He whipped the words out, all cold, no compassion.
But they woke Evan. Or was that the shock of Kirk’s hijacking of his choices and
immediate Dom attitude when they’d barely been acquaintances let alone friends? Of
Kirk’s launch of a no-holds campaign to bring him back from the edge? It was
recognizable as the man’s personal war against the woman who’d wounded them both.

Although Evan refused to be a war engine, he saw through to the true kindness of

the scowling jerk. He let Kirk have his will. Truth be told, he had no energy to fight it.

And with it came relief.

Fettered Love

Fast forwardtheir shared emotion a tornado of impact. Two months later, Evan

was on his knees at Kirk’s feet, wrists crossed behind his back, with the two of them
caught in the draw of one other after their time together. The history with the same
woman building the first bridge that led them to their unique bond. Evan’s astonished
need to let Kirk take him over, let him lose himself and float. Give up the emptiness
again for something whole, hot, alive and growing more valuable every day. To belong.
To be chosen. He liked a male’s harder touch, the deft brutality that he had always
craved.

In Kirk’s chains, in his clamps, balls stretched, stuffed full of his cock, deep and

rubbing, driving Evan crazy. Serving the man. Loving it.

Time passing. Loving Kirk.

Home again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The doorbell rang in real time. Reality cleared Evan’s head.

He answered the door to the third surprise of the morning.

Every twenty minutes after that another single-stemmed red rose was delivered.

Each stalk was wrapped with a scroll containing words of seduction. Tantalizing.
Promises of arousal and maddening touches. The scrawl of Kirk’s or Sarah’s name
appeared at the bottom of each. And the final twelfth flower wrapped with a directive.
Ten p.m. Tonight. Unfettered. Rose Room.

Perfect destiny.

Or the final scene of their drama, a romantic script gone bad with no happily ever

after. Well, he’d have the one with Kirk. It would be enough.

Still.

He made a final vow to himself.

To let his hope fly for one more night.

Michelle Polaris

* * * * *

The club rocked at full tilt. The music wasn’t hard or loud but a sensuous thud that

lingered inside each person’s bones. The taste of power, both taken and surrendered,
flavored the air, leaving the impression of intense energy woven throughout the room.
A spicy, musky bouquet. Arousal.

Masters and Mistresses trailed leashes with obedient or recalcitrant subs,

depending on the personal preferences of the duo. Skin shone bare, oil sheening muscle
and limbs to please the Dominants’ eyes. Two bartenders worked behind the bar,
frenetically delivering a constant stream of orders, although this early in the night most
were non-alcoholic. Later, after scenes concluded, the crowd would wind down with a
drink or two of the real deal. Or would if this club was like the others Evan visited in
the Boston area. He still wondered why Unfettered hadn’t hit his radar before. Even if it
was new, the scene in New England wasn’t too large.

His nerves ratcheted tighter at entering the club solo. A taut, expectant desire hung

inside his body. It had been years since he’d gone to a public venue without Kirk and
his cock was half hard already, pressing against his jeans. His roses had left no
instructions for dress, so he’d gone with something club neutral. Tight jeans and black
tee. Unfettered’s dress code appeared to be flexible.

To the far side of the common area a few public scenes were mid-progress. A curvy

blonde hung in restraints, arms cuffed above her head. A Dom raised a cane and
brought it whistling through the air down upon her already red bottom. Her high-
pitched call of pain darkened the eyes of the Master delivering the punishment. He bent
in, murmured in her ear, eliciting an exhausted nod. The man lovingly stroked her wet
locks, trailed a hand down the mane to the small of her back where the raised welts
from his attention began. She shuddered in the restraint.

Farther down the wall a man sat enclosed in a stockade, his cock and balls squeezed

in a vise and locked down. A Domme in stiletto heels strode around his secured body,
trailing the end of a crop over his straining flesh as she circled. The man’s chest heaved

Fettered Love

like a winded racehorse, although Evan saw no evidence he’d been struck. His ass was
plugged with a vibrating device. Standing at his head was another man, the locked
slave’s mouth around his dick, sucking him at an awkward angle but fully focused on
his job even while struggling for breath. The slave’s cock was huge, leaking at the tip
and testimony to how long he’d been worked already. How ready he was to come if
only allowed.

A zing flew through Evan just watching. He closed his eyes against the sudden

image of being in the stockade, Kirk and Sarah reaching out to touch and torment him,
squeeze his cock or pinch and scratch a caught, clamped nipple. Tug his hair and ram
his mouth full of cock or nipple at their whim. Shit, his shaft filled with molten steel.

A jealous streak surged through him at these scenes. The lack of any toys adorning

his body, even a cock and ball harness or simple plug, left him feeling more naked than
any of the times Kirk required he walk around at a club without clothes. He liked the
restriction of a ring around his sac, the slight pain of clamps or the arousing discomfort
of a plug as a baseline for this part of his life. They provided a center. They reminded
him of Kirk’s care and attention. Although tonight was about giving himself over to the
two people he loved, apprehension started playing with his mind, turning their absence
all day into a type of rejection. For the first time in a while he questioned how straight
his head was on. There was no rejection, he reminded himself. Evan glanced around,
searching for two particular faces and needing them. But he knew exactly where they
waited for him.

He started down a corridor leading to the private playrooms, giving his name to the

staff monitoring this area of the club and earning a nod and wave down the hall.
Obviously he was expected. Damn, he wanted this badly. He walked faster.

He found his destination quickly. The Rose Room, the words carved into the

wooden plaque with lovingly etched designs of roses twined around the curved
alphabet. Underneath the name were a few extra words—Thorns and all. He laughed
under his breath, noticing the nervous huff of the sound.

Michelle Polaris

He dragged in a breath and knocked on the door.

Sarah opened it. Her gold-green eyes smiled as her hair draped softly around her

shoulders. “Hello, Evan.”

She reached out and wrapped her long, slim fingers around his wrist, gently

drawing him into the room. Delicate and strong. For a moment he resisted, caught by
her aching loveliness and afraid of it all at once. She’d dressed in a short silk robe,
peaches and cream, which highlighted her complexion. The soft look surprised him. It
contrasted her diamond-hard core. But the contrast caused his heart to thud louder, an
ever faster beat. He glanced behind her to find Kirk dressed in a similar chocolate robe.
Tantalizing glances of skin peeked out of the gaps in the material showing muscle,
sinew and flat planes. Evan blew out the air in his lungs he hadn’t realized he’d been
holding.

Candles flickered on an ornately set table. Pillows were strewn across a room full of

soft surfaces, delicate cloths thrown over tables. Nothing hard here. Nothing like a
dungeon. His mind struggled to figure it out. Perfumed flowers, the namesakes of the
room, sat in vases on most available tabletops. Their scent flared his nostrils, too sweet,
a confection when what he wanted was the smell of leather and metal, a reminder of a
harsh reality that lingered underneath the beauty of the world. It balanced him, this
reminder. It was part of his story. But even the roses were of softer shades—whites,
pinks, peaches, yellows. The overall effect was one of seduction and caused a strange
pulsing in Evan’s temples, a twisting sourness in his gut. As Sarah let go of his hand, he
backed up a step before he caught himself.

“What, afraid of a little seduction, angel?” she purred, reading his mind.

Kirk came up to stand behind her, reached beyond her waist to Evan’s. Kirk’s arm

brushed her side and Evan’s gaze was drawn to the contact between them. He watched
her long lashes flutter down as Kirk rested a proprietary hand on Evan’s hip while the
inside of his elbow lay snug against her side. All three bodies close.

“Off, sweetheart. Strip for us,” Kirk ordered.

Fettered Love

His cock hardened more as he dipped his head, tried to keep his gaze averted when

all he really wanted was to soak up the sight of them.

They’d stepped back to give him room to shuck his jeans and tee. Naked, well

aware liquid already shone at the tip of his shaft, he gave in to the prickles covering his
skin, the anticipation of their touch and torture.

Sarah circled around the back of him, a silken tie wound at either end in the palms

of her hands and pulled taut. “So, angel, here we are at your command. Although the
audacity of it, of how you overstepped yourself by blackmailing your Master into doing
this is something that will not go unpunished.”

Her purred threat burrowed inside him and stirred. Everything out of her mouth

stayed gentle, spoken at just above a whisper. “You owe him an apology at the least,
don’t you think? On your knees, Evan.”

He folded down as Kirk stepped nearer. This he knew.

“Wrists behind you, angel,” Sarah commanded in more of her almost whisper at his

ear. The silk tie brushed his wrists as she bound them together, tying a knot. Not overly
tight. Her feather-soft hair brushed his shoulders as she bent to secure his wrists. She
smelled of vanilla and arousal and pleasure. He automatically pushed out against the
fabric, testing. She crossed back into his view. “Yes, you can get out of the bind if you
tried. But I know you won’t, angel.”

Kirk’s deep voice pulled his attention forward. “Eyes to me, Evan.”

He latched his gaze to Kirk’s. “I owe you an apology, Master.” The words burned

his throat as he focused on the dark, sexy man.

Kirk raised his brows. “Really? Because I think you don’t. Your heart knows what it

wants. And honesty is all I’ve ever asked of you. I think your request for tonight strikes
me as reasonable.”

Sarah’s head whipped in his direction at the words, but she schooled her face.

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A dimple played on his lover’s cheek as a sly smile crept onto his lips. “Doesn’t

mean I won’t take out my irritation on your skin, sweetheart, for backing me against a
wall.”

Kirk reached forward and ran a thumb over Evan’s nipple. It hardened to a point,

aching. He expected a pinch. It never came. Instead, his Master reached for a black
ribbon resting on a side table. He tied the ribbon around Evan’s throat, snug but not
constricting. “Your collar for this evening. Nothing stiff and leather. Nothing to hurt
you. We don’t want that.”

“A lovely present tied up for us,” Sarah added.

His gut tightened, hollowing with discomfort. “But…” He shook his head to clear it.

Sarah crossed into his line of vision. “Tonight we take care of you, baby. And you

will take our worst loving tenderness. I’m in the mood for soft. And I know you don’t
want to disappoint your Mistress.”

Kirk was standing behind her, resting his large hand on her shoulder. Evan

watched her eyes brighten, her breath blow out at the continued contact.

“Let’s bring our boy to the table, Sarah. He looks hungry.”

As she responded to his suggestion, she brushed her side against his, caught Kirk’s

gaze and feathered a touch on his wrist with a nod. Evan’s pulse beat hard enough to
feel at his temple as Kirk let out the lowest, quietest growl in response.

“After you, Sarah.” He spread his hands in a gesture toward a table to the back of

the room. “I’ll help our sub.”

Sarah brushed the top of Evan’s head with a kiss. She strolled in the gestured

direction.

It was to be a dueling seduction between the two of them then and arousing as hell.

It pushed his buttons perfectly. Satisfaction expanded in his chest, warm, full. This was
what he hoped. The rest, their strange gentleness, the lack of the typical leather and

Fettered Love

dungeon scene he’d shared with both was a blurred confusion he fought down. Who
cared about their plan if he got what he wanted—their healing. And maybe more.

Kirk loomed over him, wrapping a hand around his biceps to urge him up. But he

checked his strength, moved slowly as Evan stood. “I’ll need to prepare you for your
seat at the table. Bend at the waist, spread your legs.”

The command had Evan’s balls lifting higher as he bent to follow direction. The

exposing position ratcheting up his arousal, his cock kicking against his belly. Wet, cool
liquid and the pad of a finger touched his hole after the snick of a lubricant tube cap
sounded.

“Relax, Ev. You know the routine.” A thick finger pushed at his anus, went in slow.

He pushed back, wanting more.

A hand grabbed his ass. “Stop. I control the speed.”

It hurt to keep still but he did.

The fingers went in punishingly slow. God, Evan wanted to ram them deeper to

feel a burn.

Kirk chuckled low. “Always looking for a quick, hard fuck, sweetheart. Not

tonight.”

The stretching continued at snail speed, more fingers added but too damn gently.

And then gone too soon. Evan didn’t know who to be in this scene or what they
wanted.

“Stand. Let’s walk over to the chair at the place setting.” Kirk led him there, hand at

his elbow as if he were an escort at a fancy restaurant.

Sarah had pulled out the chair, and Evan got a clear look at the large dildo

suctioned to the seat. The toy had been lubricated as well.

She took over Kirk’s hold on him. “Now, angel, slowly. I’m going to control your

descent onto the cock. You let go. Let me bring you down. I love you, angel. It’s good.
You’ll feel full, but I expect you know that sensation.”

Michelle Polaris

Evan shook, the energy he used to get him to the zone beginning to overtake him as

Sarah guided him toward the seat. He needed more to get there. They were being too
careful of him, too solicitous. His mind struggled, frantically throwing itself around,
trying to figure out how to handle her sweetness. How to get the intensity higher,
faster.

He resisted, couldn’t help himself. But as he pulled against her grip, she let go of his

arm. Leaving him…empty. Leaving him standing on his own. He didn’t like this at all.

“I won’t allow you to fight me tonight, Evan.”

“Then get your cuffs and secure me to the damn seat.” The words fell out

unplanned.

“No.” Kirk got close. “You cooperate fully tonight with no struggle. You submit

without it. You’re too used to using the fight to help you release and I’ve been willing to
let you do it. No more. Tonight you do it our way.”

Sarah’s silken voice added to Kirk’s. “Each time you defy us, we stop what we’re

doing. Do it enough and we end the scene altogether and walk away. I know you want
this. You want it badly enough to make demands you had no business making no
matter how generous your Master is about refusing an apology.”

Even as she challenged him, it was all sugar and sweetness.

“No struggle. Got it?” she reiterated.

He bit back the snarl he couldn’t believe started up his throat. This should be easy.

He could do this. Evan nodded curtly, afraid to open his mouth.

Kirk cupped the back of his neck, and gave it squeeze. “Good. Now let your

Mistress lower you down onto the dildo.”

She closed long fingers around his arm and he followed her direction. As he went

down, she adjusted the toy to align with his body, the rich nerves around his anus
stretching, burning. Yes. He wanted that. Craved it. His breathing sped faster.

“Slow, sweetheart,” Kirk added, watching.

Fettered Love

When Evan looked, he saw his lover’s eyes focused closely on Sarah’s face, her wide

eyes sparkling as a clear fire lit her from inside out. “Is your cunt as wet as I am hard
watching him do this, Sarah?”

She stopped her motions, placed a hand at Evan’s hips to make him halt his

descent. “Wet and clenching. He’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Kirk answered.

Evan tried to focus on their byplay, it was what he’d hoped for, knew it was crucial.

But he was full and wanted more. Wanted to go down those last inches.

“Mistress, please.”

She tilted her head, examined him. “Down the last bit, but I will count to ten, and

you will take the entire count to finish lowering yourself. You get there before ten and I
stop this.”

Shit!

He managed but, god, he wanted to sit down the rest of the way quickly. He

needed it, that intense shot of discomfort. He wanted to fly, get in the headspace. To rub
the fake cock against the button of his prostate and feel. Or not feel in this case.

Instead, each fraction of descent stripped him further, leaving him raw but in a new

way. A process worse than stripping wood of layers of paint, exposing the old surface,
battered, nicked, not so sturdy without the finish that held together the decaying grains.

Sweat beaded his temple, a drop running down the side of his face. Sarah brushed

the now wet strands of hair off his forehead. Soft touch. His throat closed up around the
comfort of it. She ran her hands across his chest, trailing them down to his abs and
around the base of his cock. “So hard for us. Now sit still, baby. I don’t want you
moving. You have some dinner to eat.”

Food. A meal lay out in front of him on china. Not a huge amount, but how in god’s

name would he eat a bite?

Michelle Polaris

Kirk picked up the silver fork, speared a strand of asparagus. There were a few

medallions of cream-covered meat, the pork dish he liked to cook for Evan on their
celebrations. Kirk began to feed Evan, bite after bite, while Sarah whispered in his ear,
ran her tongue over the lobe.

“So gorgeous, angel,” she murmured. “Such a good boy. I know you wish I had the

clamps to make it hurt so good. We don’t want that. We want your cock hard and ready
for us, waiting, but waiting for our caresses. It’s a different kind of suffering than you
usually get.”

She lowered her hand to his lap, started stroking his shaft, a gentle, torturous vise

around him. He wanted to move. More than anything.

Kirk forked in another bite, a soft parmesan whipped potato concoction. Salt,

cream, bursts of delicate flavors from fresh garden herbs, subtle and flavorful at once.
And adding to the overload. He almost choked on it. He was dizzy with the frustration,
the delay to everything his body craved.

After another bite, Kirk tasted the food and made appreciative humming sounds.

“Try this.” He placed more on the fork, stretched his hand over to Sarah’s waiting
mouth.

“Delicious.” She finished the bite, chewing slowly, a show of the mouth’s erotic

potential, and licked her full lips with her tongue. “You were always a good cook,
Kirk.”

“But of course.” He tipped his head.

Her soft laugh rippled over his nerves. “Your Master is an arrogant prick, Evan. But

you probably know and love that about him.” She winked at Kirk, her lips curved, but
then refocused on Evan. “What do you say? Had enough dinner?”

God, he wanted this meal over. “Yes Mistress.”

She bent, kissed him, a soft massage of lips, feminine and potent. She scratched her

nails across his chest, not deep. Not close to deep enough. “I love you, angel. I want to
take care of you and make you feel good. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

Fettered Love

The fear she might leave tasted acidic in his mouth. Please. No. He had to get more.

Had to. Didn’t they see he could only serve them right if their touch was harder? This
wasn’t what he had imagined—an erotic fantasy of pain and ecstasy trapped between
two powerful people he loved. Taking their canes, their needles and their floggings,
bucking under their attention until he screamed and lost it all.

His head pounded. The distant past. Where he’d been a wild boy. Difficult for any parent,

any mother. Of course she’d want to go. A door slamming. He’d run her away. No, he knew
better. She left for her own twisted selfish reasons. Still. It hurt. And maybe if he’d made it easier
on her?

This unexpected tactic of Kirk and Sarah’s was fucking with his head. He was better

than this. He knew better. Knew not to be reacting this way. Yet he found himself
begging. “Please, Mistress, please, Sarah. I can take more. Make it hurt.” He sounded
pathetic. Idiot. He was greater than his past. But like some drama, he was caught in a
role, the masochistic prisoner wanting to be punished because he was bad. To make it
all right again. It needed to be all right. Didn’t he have a plan this evening?

“No. For now you’re going to stand and go over to the bed.”

This was killing him. He inched slowly off the dildo, as fast as she let him, and

relished the burn. Then Kirk was there again and escorted him to the bed, helped him
on the mattress, solicitous. He ran his calloused fingers over almost every inch of Evan’s
exposed skin, squeezed a buttock and teased his hole with passing fingers.

They untied his wrists from behind him and secured them to the bedposts with fur-

lined satin cuffs. Sarah stood away from the bed, unbelted her short robe with a tease
that had his balls climbing higher. As the covering dropped away, his gaze focused on
her full, high breasts, her flaring waist, the thin swatch of black silk panties covering
what he knew was a smooth, gorgeous mound.

“Seeing you on your back again, restrained, keeps me slick and excited. All that

skin to touch, waiting for my attention.” She reached to the waist of her thong and
wiggled out of the panties. She sauntered over to the bed, leaned over him to dangle her

Michelle Polaris

breasts close to his face. The tips jutted to points. He strained to reach his mouth toward
them and suckle, damn permission or not. He wanted to feel them against his tongue.

“No, no, baby.” She pulled away. “And don’t think to goad me into punishing you

by misbehaving.” She held the thong in her hand and moved close again. “Open your
mouth. It gets stuffed with what we say it gets stuffed with.”

We. Kirk and Sarah, working together. He sucked in a breath and experienced the

funneling sensation, his heart struggling to lift itself out of his body and throw itself at
the feet of these two people.

He opened, unable to resist her command though part of him wanted to. She

gagged his mouth with the lingerie, the smell and taste of her arousal left behind on the
fabric driving him wilder.

Sarah climbed over him on all fours, reminding him of how Kirk proposed. “And

now that you can’t interrupt, it’s time for more apologies.”

The soft seriousness of her eyes triggered a strange panic. What did she want with

this night? He’d thought he’d known what he wanted from her. But now… He turned
his head away, avoided her gaze.

She grasped his chin and, with controlled pressure, forced his eyes back to hers.

Kirk had dropped his own robe and climbed naked on the bed, kneeling beside the

two of them. He snaked his hand between their bodies to Evan’s cock, began the
slowest, agonizing stroke, smoothing fingers up and down the meat of him. Familiar
but different than typical. The hairs on Evan’s body stood on end. His hips pumped up,
trying to force Kirk to grasp him harder.

“Listen to your Mistress, Ev. Stop moving those hips or we walk.”

He clenched his teeth harder around the thong and forced himself to keep his hips

on the mattress. Everything ached inside and out. The concert of their attention was
stoking him hotter than ever, fragmenting his thoughts but still not pushing him all the
way over. They had what he needed. If only…

Fettered Love

“Time for you to listen. I owe you an apology, angel,” Sarah said.

No she didn’t.

She’d kept a gentle grip on his chin, preventing him from shaking his head in

denial.

But she’d read his thoughts well enough. “I do. For walking away and staying away

these years. I loved you. I still do. And I may have left physically like your mom did,
but I never left here.”

She placed her other hand over his heart, pressed her palm into his chest.

The heat of the touch burrowed deep inside his skin, trailed down to his groin

where Kirk’s hand continued to caress his cock, slipping down to fondle his sac for brief
moments before lifting again.

“You deserved better. You were my perfect, loving, wonderful submissive and

lover. Everything a Mistress could want.”

Behind the gag, his throat tightened.

“I made a mistake, even if for good reasons. I never left because you were flawed,

angel. It wasn’t about you. You know this, at least in your head. It’s your soul I’m
worried about. It’s gotten confused.”

He believed her, didn’t he? He wanted to believe. But…

A door slamming.

Kirk’s deep voice reverberated from his side. “Every time we play, you want it

hard, Evan. Sarah’s helped me understand the part of you that still thinks it needs
punishment for being left all those years ago. But you refuse to talk about it, pretending
like you’re over it. You’re not. And I want that for you. Hard play is not a problem, but
when it’s all you’ll accept, it is. You have this angel-demon thing going on and it’s not
acceptable any longer.”

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God, he was shrinking, squeezing down to the nothing he’d felt long ago. No, he couldn’t let

that happen. A door slammed again. Again. Alone. Was he still alone? He wanted to run away,
lose the pain in sub space.

Fingers tightened around his chin again. “Focus, Evan. You’re going somewhere, I

see it in your eyes. I need you here with me. Your Mistress demands it.”

Cold. He was cold. And he couldn’t get away as he wanted. Fuck. Let me go.

“You present the kind, compassionate, well-adjusted face to the world,” Kirk said.

“And you are one of the fucking best men I know.” His voice turned gruffer. “But for all
the years you’ve told me I have to learn how to accept your care and scale down my
Dom pride, there’s still that one area in our play you won’t give up control. So now I’m
demanding it, sweetheart. Submit to us gently and admit you’re not to blame, not at
fault for being left. By your mom or by Sarah. That you’re not bad, just a guy who hurts
from the shitty thing done to him.”

The contrast of the plucking words and the sexual stimulation kept him off center,

Sarah’s hypnotizing, concerned face continued to swim above him.

“I love you. Kirk loves you. You’re everything you need to be.”

Then why did she leave? His rational mind shut off. The tainted black inside his

blood boiled up and left acid marks along the inside of his veins.

“I’m going to take the gag out, Evan. And you’re going to tell me you understand.

You’re going to believe what I have to say. If you do, I let you taste me. To lick me to
orgasm. But it’s got to be the truth, angel.”

He wanted that taste. So much that his tongue curled into the fabric, anticipating

her flavor, her undulating hips over his face and the ecstasy of her juices running into
his mouth, flicking at her clit and tonguing her pussy to bring her pleasure. It fought
away some of the black.

Christ, he was so hard, so ready, and so needy for it. To combat the pain.

She took out the gag. “Now tell me, Evan. Tell me you’re worth it. You understand

no one left because of you.”

Fettered Love

“Then why?” he gasped. It wasn’t close to logical, the knifing question that always

lingered somewhere deep. It just was.

She lowered her head closer. Kirk’s hand was gone from his cock. All of a sudden

he saw the man on his knees behind her. A big hand rested at her waist, as if steadying
her. Another he reached down to rest on Evan’s thigh, gripping it in reassurance.

Her eyes shone too bright. “Because, unfortunately, I had things to prove. Why

your mother left, I can never say. But no child is ever the cause.”

His eyes brimmed full and he knew the hot moisture threatened to spill over. He

blinked hard and ratcheted up his volume. “Wanting punishment is still part of me.
Don’t fucking tell me I don’t need it or can’t have it! You’re a Mistress. You know
better.”

He wanted her angry. She should be after he screamed at her.

“You need to forgive yourself. First because there wasn’t anything you did wrong.

Second because it makes your love for us stronger the more you love yourself.”

“Shit.”

Kirk squeezed his thigh harder. “You’ll do this, Ev, because we love you and would

never lie about something this important. And because you have no choice. You submit
to us. That’s who you’ve been. It’s stronger than the glitch inside your psyche replaying
the past to figure out how you fucked it up. We tell you that you didn’t fuck it up. You
accept that.”

“So you won’t give me what I want?” He spit the words as a poisonous accusation.

“I’d be a fool to deny myself the pleasure of topping you with pain and punishment

ever again. I still want that. I want to see you jerk under the pads when I run electricity
under your skin. I want to see the red marks of my flogger. But that’s not every time.
And I want you to fly high just as much when I kiss you for hours while you’re tied
up.” Kirk’s dark eyes bore into him from over Sarah’s body, searing into Evan,
promising, lit with a spark.

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“Kisses like this,” Sarah added, lowering her lips and leaving the gentlest caress on

his mouth. “And this.” She switched to his chest, running the tip of her tongue over his
tiny brown nub.

So light. A tickle that killed. Feathers with knife tips. But the focus in her eyes

ripped even deeper into him.

“So tell us, baby. Tell us how much you’re worth it. You like to make your Mistress

and Master happy. It’s a natural for you.”

He wanted that, yes. Trouble was, he didn’t know if he could give Sarah and Kirk

what they wanted. No matter how badly it shredded his heart.

She’d pushed him. She knew it. And the fluctuating panic and desire and yearning

in his eyes told her she’d shoved him off his comfortable path. Her nerves strung tight
as she vibrated with abject lust seeing him tied down, watching him clench around the
dildo earlier, needing to scratch down his skin, leave her marks and her possession after
so many years. She wanted the high of watching him gasp under a paddle or see the
reddened skin of his cock from dripping wax down his groin. But she wanted to kiss
him all over just as much. So precious. He was gorgeous like that even while she hated
the parts of him still stuck thinking he was less. She wanted desperately to take care of
him. For forever. Instead, she refocused on the here and now. Forever would come or
not.

And with this effort to convince him came her hyperawareness of Kirk, the script

they played out together in the room with the man they loved. Their sub? For tonight at
least. It was painful to think beyond tonight. She resisted sinking too deep into any of
Kirk’s touches, tried not to think of the intimacies, the amazing connection of the
contact. They’d decided Evan needed it this way. Yes, only a script between them. Yet
at the museum she’d caught glimpses of…what?

“Say it, angel,” she commanded.

Fettered Love

Evan’s mouth screwed tight against a pain that didn’t exist. The physical pain

didn’t exist at least. The emotional anguish was real enough.

He panted between her kisses. “You think I’m worth it.”

“That’s not the issue. I know what I believe, what I feel. It’s what you believe that I

care about here.” She ran her tongue up the side of his chest to the dip into the valley
below the jointure of arm and shoulder.

He shuddered. “I won’t lie.” He tried to use his words as armor.

Kirk pressed in at her side, displacing her as he hovered over Evan. He lowered a

large hand to Evan’s throat, gentle threatening pressure. Sarah saw the banked fury in
Kirk’s eyes. “If you can’t tell us you’re worth it, tell us about her. Your mother.
Convince me you gave her reason to leave. That you’re the shit you believe yourself to
be under that gentle, giving man you must pretend to be every day. You know, the one
who gives above and beyond and has forgiveness like a trick card up his sleeve to pull
out at any moment it’s needed. You’re fucking willing to forgive Sarah, and I suspect
your mother, but just not yourself? Convince me, Ev, because I’m not buying this.”

Kirk’s voice had risen. They’d planned to keep it soft with Evan, but she knew his

self-castigation pricked Kirk deep and raised the beast who intended to battle fiercely
for anyone it loved. The larger-than-life warrior who’d insisted on protecting her for the
years of their childhood. Her pride for Kirk mixed with the same desire to heal Evan.
Goddammit if she’d let him avoid this issue. She’d helped do this to him, reinforce this
self-doubt, and she’d rather cut her heart out than leave him like this.

“Remember the promise of my pussy, angel. A taste. If you can’t tell us you’re

worth it, do what your Master says.”

Evan shook his head, although Kirk’s grip stayed in place. “Can’t. It’s just true.”

Sarah reached down to his groin, cradled his balls. “Can’t or won’t? Don’t be a

coward, angel.”

It wasn’t working. Moisture streaked Evan’s face and she watched him closely,

forcing her mind to the task of seeing deep enough inside her sub to know the right

Michelle Polaris

path for him. This was her job as Mistress, no matter her personal needs or desires.
Maybe she’d overlooked the key.

She sat back and considered her lover’s scars. It hurt to see them. “Wrong tactic,

Kirk. I think we’ve messed it up. Haven’t we, dear? Evan doesn’t recognize gentleness
as part of his sexual submission. It’s not part of his picture of himself. If it’s not familiar,
he’s not going to relax enough to let go. Simple physical pleasure doesn’t motivate
him.”

She lowered her hand over Kirk’s at Evan’s neck, a double collar of flesh. “Isn’t that

right, angel? You want the pain. Fine. We’ll do that for you. But you have to know that
it will be slow, steady hurting. Nothing dramatic to drop you deep. And it will bring us
joy too. You are beautiful, Evan, in all the ways you ache.”

Kirk glanced at her, back down at his partner. She saw his sharp mind click behind

his expression, bloom with a thought. “It’s about the motivation.”

His other hand reached for Evan’s nipple, pinching it hard as they watched their

sub’s face contract under the pain. “I know what you want from me, Ev. Why you
arranged this between the three of us. You want me to get rid of my shit with Sarah and
get over it.”

Sarah listened with her every muscle taut enough to snap. She held on tight to her

reactions. So tight she expected to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest breath.

Kirk continued, the skin of his hand under her palm forging with hers to make

some entirely new creation. “Then don’t be a selfish prick. You do this with me. You’re
my partner. You want me to heal then you do it too. I won’t do shit alone. Not anymore.
You give us the damn words we asked for, tell us about the stain your mom still makes
on your soul, and I’ll say the words I have to say. Do what I have to do.”

Ev’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting open and closed in his binds. Words seemed to

clog his throat, his mouth helpless to make any coherent sound.

“We’ll let you up now, sweetheart,” Kirk said, not waiting for his response. “Sarah,

will you move the cross out of the corner?”

Fettered Love

She removed her hand from Kirk’s, her body from the bed, and trusted her auto-

pilot to keep her functioning. She allowed only vague half guesses over Kirk’s
intentions to stir in her mind.

Kirk removed Evan’s binds and brought him to the St. Andrew’s Cross she’d

moved away from the wall. He closed the man efficiently into the cuffs at wrists and
ankles. Bound down his forehead, biceps, thighs and waist to further limit movement.

Evan was panting now, his cock leaking pre-cum, making a shiny trail down his

bare groin. His eyes became glazed. Clearly he’d been waiting for this, anticipating, and
even now it was putting him in a zone.

Kirk grabbed his chin again. “You stay the fuck with us, Evan. I’m not done with

you. You understand?”

“Yes.”

Sarah retrieved clamps from a side table, knowing even without discussion what

Kirk intended. She handed half to him, moving closer to place her share on Evan’s
nipples, the inside tops of his thighs, the skin of his armpits, the now tight flesh at the
base of his scrotum. As Kirk attached his own pinchers to join hers, Evan moaned with
the pain, clenched and cried as each new clamp went on. He tried to sway in the
restraint, both toward and away from the devices.

Kirk stepped back after the last.

“Hurts,” the bound man gasped.

“Yes. You’re receiving this much because it’s what we decided. It may be

acknowledgement we got it wrong at the beginning, but remember how much it makes
me hard seeing you suffer like this, that red flesh pinched behind our clamps. You’re
mine. You won’t forget it.” He reached to pull on a clamp, enflame the flesh
underneath. “I’m sick of sharing you with your past. I’ll share you with Sarah tonight,
but you know I hate sharing. So pay attention and we won’t have to do this again.”

“Yes Master.”

Michelle Polaris

“Good.”

Sarah squeezed her thighs together and forced herself not to sway in place or lunge

to play with all that restrained flesh. Her cunt was full and wet and already pulsing
with small random spasms, the precursors of orgasm. She’d forgotten the power in
watching the desire and helplessness of a submissive. Especially of one she loved.
Forgot how deeply it touched her. She’d made herself forget. Remembering would have
driven her crazy all those years.

“Now explain to your Master and Mistress why your mother left.”

Evan gasped again as Kirk reached to slap the skin of his buttock from the side, not

a hard strike, but she knew from experience it was close enough to his erect shaft and
the other clamps to make the effort a bolt of sensation.

The cue was enough, along with her instincts, to have her moving behind Evan. She

positioned her hand, pulling back and landing another stinging slap to his ass, spanking
with only the flat of her hand, a symbol of childhood punishment, a goad to past hurt.

Evan began, half stuttering, half wincing with the words between each measured

hit. The darkness of his pain splashed his face with the twist of his lips. “She left. She
couldn’t stand me. I wasn’t good enough.”

Her hand swung down again and he grunted.

“You screamed at her? Called her names? You stole things? You kicked and bit and

went crazy on her?” she insisted.

Smack!

“No.” Evan grimaced with his response.

Kirk latched on to the answer and continued his own relentless attack. “Then what

the hell did you do bad enough to make a mother leave? A mother whose most
important job is to love you and take care of you?”

“I don’t know.”

Smack!

Fettered Love

“It must have been something,” Kirk demanded.

Another. Evan cried out.

“I didn’t appreciate her enough. I made too much noise in the house. I was loud

outside her window in the mornings. I don’t fucking know what I did, but it wasn’t
enough.”

“So you behaved exactly like any damn eight-year-old boy. And for that you’re to

blame? Is that why your Mistress needs to spank you like a child?”

Smack! Still measured.

“No. That wasn’t it.” The voice was desperate.

“Then what was it?” Kirk continued, relentless.

Smack!

Sarah paused. Held back. Watched as Kirk refused to give Evan relief. A shark

circling his prey.

Kirk paced back and forth in front of Evan with the questions, coming close then

distancing, keeping their sub from relaxing.

At Kirk’s pause, she stepped around into the space. “You don’t know what it was

because you did nothing. She left you for no good reason. To meet some selfish need of
her own. A mother doesn’t do that. It is her blame, Evan. Not yours.”

Sarah reached to cradle his cheek with a hand, dropped it down his chest to brush

his constrained nipples with the tenderest caress of pain. “Do you remember the day
she left?”

Evan’s eyes squeezed shut tight. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Tell me.” She reached down, grabbed his penis to increase the pain of the clamps.

She twisted it slowly, watched his eyes widen and contract with pain.

“She came into the playroom.” His tears were falling faster. Snot ran down from his

nose and his gasping continued. He remained as hard as ever, his body all mixed up in
the memory and lust and agony.

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“She had a stuffed animal, a dog, in her hands.” He panted. “Handed it to me. But

I’d given all my stuffed animals away. Thought a boy shouldn’t,” he gasped, “have
them at eight. Too babyish. But she brought one anyway though I’d told her the day
before I was too big for them.”

“And then?” Kirk’s gentle question told her how much Evan’s pain got to him.

“She said she was tired. Too tired and she needed to leave. She told me all a boy

needed was his dad. And that mine would take care of me. Told me to be good. Then
she left.”

“That was all?” he asked.

“Fuck yes. No hug. No kiss. No words of love. Only a grim face and the sound of

the door slamming after her. I can’t get rid of that sound in my head sometimes. It
fucking kills.” He gave another low, ragged groan. “She didn’t mean to slam it, but the
wind came in the open window of the room I guess. And it swung shut fast. God, if
only the damn door hadn’t slammed. Sometimes I think I remember the door more
clearly than her.”

He was crying harder, the stains from the past clear all over his face. She wanted to

envelop him in her arms, to make it all better. But they’d tried that already. It hadn’t
worked.

Kirk got close but didn’t touch, standing next to her as she kept a grip on Evan’s

suffering cock. It didn’t suffer half as much as his heart.

“It wasn’t your fault, Evan,” he said.

“Fuck.”

“I know. It stabs, but it wasn’t your fault. You’re a good man, the best I know. And

she wasn’t cut out to be a mom. That’s not about you. Do you understand?”

“Fuck,” he said again.

“Do you understand?” Kirk repeated. “She failed. You didn’t. But you and your

father paid the price.”

Fettered Love

“I wanted her back so bad. Even if she was shitty to leave.”

“Of course. Any kid would feel the same.” He swiped Evan’s tears away with his

thumb, fingering his cheek with soft concern as Sarah timed it with another twist to his
cock. Evan flinched. Life was like that, soft and hard at once. And acknowledging it
gave Evan that final push.

“But she never came back. She just sent the money to my father.” He was sobbing.

“Nothing else. Not even cards. A bitch. A fucking bitch. So why the fuck do I still want
her?”

Kirk gripped the hair at his nape and kept it taut. “You survived. You grew up just

fine. Into a wonderful man. She can never take that from you.”

“Evan,” Sarah added, letting go of her hold and pressing into his side. “I love you.

Kirk loves you. Listen to him. He’s right. You are just as you need to be, baby. I’ve
always adored you for it. You’re so loving. You learned to love despite her, baby. We
just need you to give a little more loving to yourself. You can have our pain if you need
it, but you need to give a little less of it to yourself. I made it worse by leaving, I know.
And my apology was real. I was selfish, thinking you didn’t need to share my new
burdens. And even if I can’t stay now, you have to know I returned as soon as I could.
Because you are worth it. Every moment we spent and all the moments I stole from you.
Worth it, angel.”

He tried to shake his head in denial, his brow restrained too much to let him move

as he seemed to want.

“We’re doing this together, Ev,” Kirk said. “I meet my part of the bargain and you

pay attention if it helps you believe.”

“Kirk, Master, damn it,” he sputtered.

“You want me better?”

“Yes.”

“Then we heal together, even if it takes a lifetime. You understand?”

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“Maybe.”

But the sound of his voice had changed. Something had loosened.

Kirk barked a laugh, leaned in and left a quick, hard kiss on Evan’s lips, digging

and tearing his teeth away from the bottom one as he pulled back. “Goddamn
incorrigible sub.” His grip tightened on Evan’s hair. “You will understand. Now feel the
burn of those clamps on your skin and pay attention. It’s time to fix this.”

The fierce love on Kirk’s face left her breathless. Her belly twisted with how much

she wanted to be part of that look.

He let go of Evan and pivoted to her. She stepped back with his sudden movement,

teetering with surprise.

“I promised him the damn words, Sarah. And fuck me, but I want you. I’ve always

wanted you. I’ve always loved you. I may not be good at forgiving, but I have grown
up some. And I need to make love to you, even if it’s only once more.”

He turned to Evan and gestured. “He needs to watch it. To know people heal.”

She stood, unable to move her feet or make any intelligent sound come from her

mouth.

Kirk rested his large palm on her cheek. His voice dropped, broke with moments of

hoarseness. “Will you, Mistress? It may not be in me to submit, but I can ask. Will you
make love with me, Sarah? I want this. Not just to prove a point to Evan, but because
you were my best friend and I need to remember some of that. Some of the joy with
you. Even if we’re not put together right to make it permanent.”

“Yes. Okay,” she whispered, afraid to speak any louder for fear he’d hear the

tremor in her voice, the sound of her heart stuttering in her chest as she said the words.

He drew her over to the bed, directly in Evan’s line of sight from the cross.

Kirk went down on his back, moving toward the top of the mattress to make room

for her.

Fettered Love

She gathered the pathetic tatters of her courage and climbed on after him, her body

screaming for her to get her act together and take what it wanted, what it had always
wanted. “I love you, Kirk.”

“I know.”

She sucked in a breath. “Good.” Her courage flooded back. She embraced her steel

will and the acceptance of her desire for him, no matter what came of this.

“Now come here.” He pulled her down on top of him. She straddled his body,

sinking into the press of his skin against hers. His voice carried across the room. “You
watch us, Evan. Watch her fuck me. My cock deep in her where it’s warm and tight and
wet. Exactly what we both want but only I get tonight.”

He refocused those dark eyes on her, the midnight in them sparking with lust and,

to her relieved amazement, a hint of that love she’d seen in his gaze for Evan. “Fuck me,
Sarah. Make it feel as good as I know you can.”

All evening had been the foreplay leading them to this moment.

She reached for a condom on the side table, ripped it open and teased him with her

straying fingers as she covered his shaft with it before letting go.

His penis pressed against her pussy lips, the plumped labia folds and wet arousal

clinging to his erection, wanting to suck him in. Just like her heart insisted.

She grasped his cock, moved it where she needed it and sank down. She groaned as

he moved inside her, hard, long, wide amazing fullness filling her cunt and filling her
soul. Too long since she’d gotten this wholeness, the sharing of herself with this man
she’d always loved. And it was even sweeter with the other beautiful soul of a man
watching them. The heat grew intense with Evan’s blue eyes riveted on them.

Kirk’s hips moved up against her, beginning a rhythm she matched as she rode him

slowly at first then faster as she built closer to the lightning bolts of orgasm. The heat of
it matched the warmth building in her chest, her heart expanding as it tried to burst
free. God, the love for him was larger than ever.

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Her hands rested on his chest, his wrapped around her hips. They danced together

in perfect synchronicity as they had all of this evening where their work with Evan had
flowed even with necessary adjustments. Comfortable, and in this case, crazy
pleasurable.

He pumped faster and they both gasped out at the cutting joy, sounds of ecstasy as

they fucked and loved and drove their bodies as close to one another as possible. Never
enough. Not to make up for all the years.

The force built, the rub against her clit as he surged into her over and again, driving

her wild. She reached between them, wrapped her fingers around the base of him
where they met. He grunted at the feeling. She moved the hand down his perineum,
teasing the skin there.

She moved faster, impaling herself on his cock deeper still. Kirk grunted at each wet

slap when their groins hit full on, his shaft all the way inside her.

“Jesus, Sarah. More.”

“Close,” she gasped. And she wanted closer.

His eyes, squinted and losing focus, never left her face. Her hair brushed his chest

and abdomen, and he shifted a hand to twine his fingers in the long strands. His pull,
the tension at her skull added an edge of desperation to their lovemaking. As if he
grabbed her for a lifeline, needed her as much as she needed him. If only. His other
hand moved to her breasts, brushing the aching tips. She moaned in reaction.

Kirk grimaced, fucked harder into her, though losing his rhythm. “Close.”

Almost there. She rubbed faster. The bursts of tiny contractions exploded into a

deep, full cascade of orgasm. God. So good.

She cried out, the noise mixing with Kirk’s lower growl as he jetted inside, losing it

with her as they both came. Long, drawn-out orgasm. Kirk kept pumping up into her,
ejaculating in pulses until he emptied. Tiny sparks of contractions still popped at odd
times in her vagina, softer and allowing her to ease down.

Fettered Love

The sweat beaded down her chest, fell in tiny drops on Kirk’s equally damp torso as

they shared this hazy pocket of time after the pleasure.

Panting, she fell into his gaze, not sure she’d recover. Her heart never had even

after so many years.

The post-coital stupor fell away from Kirk’s expression. He tensed abdominal

muscles and sat up with her still straddling him. Cradling her neck, he kissed her, slow,
long, gentle, before he pulled away.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her thumb reached to trace his bottom lip, rub back

and forth over the soft texture. “We never could get this right all those years ago. It
never worked when I tried to sub for you.”

“No, it didn’t.” He sighed, closing his eyes. But he let her touch at his lip continue.

“But it went pretty well tonight, you think?” The question rang with sadness from the
past despite that success.

She nodded with so much regret. More than she ever wanted to feel. The quiet

pocket of air enclosing them, creating their own small world for these precious seconds,
encouraged the words she still held so protectively inside. Time to speak.

“I’m sorry, Kirk. For leaving. I need to tell you again. I’m sorry. Can you forgive

me?”

He froze, his eyes opening, lids at half-mast with a sudden guarded coolness. His

muscles clenched. And she knew right then. Knew he couldn’t fully accept the apology.
Knew no matter the magic of their moment that their story had ended. It was too late to
make a happily ever after. He couldn’t let it go, couldn’t forgive.

“It’s good you came back,” he answered.

Avoidance.

Her thumb dropped from his lip. She couldn’t look at him any longer. Not with the

crashing of hope burning her mind and body. She raised herself off him, his spent cock
leaving her body.

Michelle Polaris

“I’ll clean up.” Kirk removed the used condom, gestured over to Evan, still

restrained, still aroused and watching them. “Bring him over to us, Sarah. We’ll remove
the clamps here. We need to finish this.”

“Yes. We do.”

She stood, walked, placing one bare foot after another down on the hardwood,

focusing on the resistance of the surface against her skin, the coolness against the soles
of her feet. When she arrived, she smiled at Evan. He smiled back, a shaky response.

He was the reason she was here. His needs. Pay attention, girl.

She reached over and swept fingers over his brow, letting herself memorize the

texture of his skin. “Are you beginning to understand, baby? Are you beginning to
believe? If for no other reason than you trust us. Trust our belief in who you are.”

“Some. Thank you, Sarah. Thank you, Mistress. For what you gave to him tonight.”

His serious face, full of compassion despite his excitement and restraint, saddened her
all over again. He loved Kirk deeply. She appreciated that. It was right, and the way it
should be.

She shrugged, pretending hard she was keeping it together. “You wanted the scene,

Evan.”

“And it was damn hot, Mistress.” He managed a mischievous smirk.

He’d heal. She knew it now.

“It was. Now let me unbuckle you and you’ll join us. Though no coming for you

tonight, baby. You gave us too much trouble.” She swatted his reddened, engorged
cock, more a caress than slap. She rubbed a finger over his leaking slit. “Think of it as
better penance than the self-blame rubbish you had going.”

He groaned. “I’ll try, Mistress.”

She unlocked him from the cross, helping him across the room as he walked

gingerly with the clamps still in place. Sarah assisted him onto the bed next to a
reclining Kirk.

Fettered Love

His Master laid Evan flat, bent over and kissed him hard, long, with tongue and

teeth.

“So we keep doing it together, yes, sweetheart?”

Evan chuckled. “If it involves more tastes of you like that, I’m all over it.”

Kirk raised his brows. “Now for the fun part. We remove the clamps. Don’t worry,

it’ll only hurt like a son of a bitch. But you know the drill.”

“Yes Master. Hurt so good.” His saucy grin drew a laugh from Kirk.

“You do the honors, Mistress Sarah?” Kirk asked.

She pasted on her own smile, covering the low plunge to her emotions. “Of course.

Breathe through it, baby.”

Taking off clamps was worse than putting them on as the blood rushed to return to

the constricted skin, bringing a flood of pain.

Evan cried out with each. A stray pulse in her cunt accompanied every cry and

sight of the red skin emerging from under the clamps. She loved those marks. Evidence
he’d been hers again, if only for a short time. Evan gripped the sheets as she finished
the job, biting his lip and clenching the fabric hard.

Once he lay panting, body unencumbered, Kirk applied soothing oil, rubbing

circulation into all the affected areas and checking on the health of the skin. He dipped
down to coat Evan’s cock with the oil, squeezing it in his big hand while Evan’s hips
rose off the bed.

“If you beg nicely, I’ll take care of that tomorrow morning for you. Tonight you

suffer.”

“So I was told,” he groaned. He captured Kirk’s gaze. “Will Sarah be there

tomorrow when you decide if I can come?”

Kirk’s hand stopped its motion. “I don’t know.” He released Evan’s shaft.

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“It makes sense, Kirk. You know it does. For us and for her.” He turned to her,

determination on his face. “I’m surprised you used the condom at all, Sarah. Fear of
pregnancy can’t be all that high for you with your condition.”

Oh my god. Air whooshed out of the room. Her face went cold. “What?”

“We know, Sarah. The premature menopause. Is it too late? I’m assuming you can

get pregnant since you offered.”

She turned to Kirk, fighting the numbness. “You both knew?”

“I saw a web page about it loaded on your phone. I noticed an appointment card.

Put two and two together.” He didn’t look at her as he admitted his knowledge.

“Shit.” She ran a hand down her thigh. “Shit.”

Evan sat up, touched her arm. “You should have said something.”

“How could I?”

Kirk sighed. “Sarah, if you need our help, we’ll do it. You’ve wanted children of

your own your entire life. You’d be a spectacular mother. I never doubted that.”

She spied a resignation on his face, a hiding away of his reservations while he

pulled his same old shit. Riding to the rescue on his faithful steed, helping the frail
maiden because he couldn’t say no to playing savior. Because he pitied her and felt
guilty about her medical condition.

“No.” She pulled from Evan’s grasp. “I won’t have you accept my offer because you

feel sorry for me, Kirk. I won’t have a child with a man who can’t forgive me, and you
can’t. I can tell. I know you. Too well. I won’t take a handout. I do have some pride.”

“Damn it, Sarah. First you want to mother our child, now you say no. You want

forgiveness, but my head’s spinning with your about-faces. What else will you pull on
us? How easy will it be for you to change your mind again and walk away?”

“Shut up, Kirk,” Evan growled.

She had to get out of there. Humiliation flooded her body, hot and tight. She stood,

fusing her spine, trying to replace that humiliation with anger. “I guess you’ll never

Fettered Love

know if I would have bolted.” She gritted her teeth and forced out more words. “But
it’ll be much safer for both of you to find another woman. No flaky Mistress who might
run.”

“Sarah,” Evan said. “Please sit. We’ll talk about it.”

“No, angel.” She purposefully calmed her voice, tried to let him know she wasn’t

angry with him. “I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m not leaving you again. I’ll always be there
if you need me, but I can’t do this. It won’t work. So let me put a little distance between
us.” Between her and Kirk, she meant. “I promise you’ll find what you need.”

“Stay.”

“I love you, Evan.” She grabbed her discarded robe, belted it on. She kept from

reaching for him by a mere thread of self-control. “Be happy, sweetie.”

She walked to the door, refusing to turn around. Refusing to look at Kirk as he

remained silent, never tried to stop her. Refusing to let the weight of a broken heart
drag her to the ground. She’d survive. She always did. It was better this way.

So why did she find herself running out of Unfettered, running to escape the

shattered promise of all she ever wanted?

After she left, Evan rounded on Kirk. Kirk sucked in a breath to hide his flinch at

the rage on his lover’s face.

“You fucked up big-time,” Evan accused. “I needed her. You needed her. She

needed us.”

“You heard me offer. She refused. What else am I supposed to do?”

“How about making her feel wanted? How about thawing that damn frigid attitude

of yours enough to forgive her? You guys are so fucking alike it’s scary. Too much alike.
It’s probably why I love the both of you, idiot that I am.”

Kirk shook his head, trying to help Evan understand and trying to push away the

twisting of his gut. “We’re both Dominants, Ev. It would never work. It didn’t before.”

Michelle Polaris

“Bullshit. Another excuse. If you had the balls to meet the situation head-on you’d

make it work. When you came together tonight, concentrating on me, everything gelled.
Two damn dancers in a performance and the choreography was off-the-charts perfect. I
saw that passion when you made love. That was real. Before you didn’t have a third to
balance you. Now you do. And even if you two got frustrated with each other in the
future, you’d have me to beat the hell out of when she pissed you off with her Domme
attitude. Same for her. A proverbial and literal whipping boy, but one who’d love every
minute of it.”

“Her pride is just as much at fault as mine, Evan. Don’t lay this all at my feet.”

Evan blew out, made a cutting motion with his hand. “Dammit, you have to give

her a chance to get beyond it by taking the first step.”

“It’s not that easy,” he denied. His mind and heart spun out of control. Was he

doing the right thing? Or just protecting himself?

“You’ve grown beyond this, Kirk. You do vulnerability now. I’m here to testify to

that fact because I wouldn’t be marrying you otherwise. And you need to ask yourself,
what would you have done in her situation twelve years ago? Taken help when it went
against all you were programmed to do or run back to Illinois to prove yourself? I love
you, man, but twelve years ago you would have run, with that metal rod up your ass
and the attitude that you had to prove your worth with no help. Run with the belief
taking help made you weak or whatever justification you could find. And on top of that
shit, Sarah didn’t have a lot of good choices. Her mom, her siblings, her entire family
was at stake, and she was just selfless enough not to want to pull us into her mess.”

The roiling in his gut grew unbearable, almost to the point of pain. “I was her

family too.” The silent scream of his need echoed in his head.

Evan became preternaturally still. His voice dropped and he delivered a piercing

stare that made Kirk want to squirm. “Families forgive one another, Kirk. Forgive
Sarah. Help us get what we both want. What all three of us want.”

Memory spiraled again.

Fettered Love

Sarah’s laughing, smiling face from years ago. Her tender care of the kids she virtually

reared herself, her sharp mind tossing over a problem with him. Her core of strength tempered
with generosity and caring. The look on her face after their first kiss. Hope, excitement,
launching their lives in Cambridge.

Sarah with Evan tonight. Loving touches, loving voice, taking good care of the man they

both valued. Giving her entire soul as she whipped out soft demands. Fiery excitement in her
gaze as he dropped down on the dildo, as he went under the clamps. Familiar to Kirk because it
was what he felt too.

And Sarah making love to him. No hesitation although it hadn’t been their plan. Giving all

of herself without any promises. Her gold-green eyes when she slid down on him, breasts
jouncing. Attention exquisite, welcoming him deep into her, the squeeze of her channel, tight
heat, slick pressure. The dual sweet torture of his heart and cock. Fast, furious, freeing.
Exploding together.

Coming home. She was as much his home as Evan.

Kirk shook out of memory. He ran his palms down sweaty thighs, inhaled a shaky

breath.

It was time. Time to grow up.

Michelle Polaris

Chapter Five

He found her at a small patch of green to the side of the multi-family home off one

of the many side streets of Cambridge. She was tending the garden, what little of one
existed. Pulling up weeds, one cheek streaked with dirt as she pushed away a strand of
chestnut hair that had fallen into her eyes.

Kirk allowed himself to simply watch for a long minute—the shift of her hip as she

changed position, the long length of arm reaching to the next spot, the rounded
firmness of her ass underneath the fabric of her shorts. And the frown marring her
brow when a recalcitrant dandelion gave her trouble. He could hear a soft, terse swear
fall from her lips as she tugged again. The sun smiled bright in the clear blue sky, heat
wrapping the city in one of the rare days of Indian summer in New England.

He had indulged long enough.

Kirk walked the distance to her and she turned. He hated the flash of hurt that

followed the quick widening of her eyes.

Sarah rose, shoulders tensed, hand trowel squeezed in her grip. “What are you

doing here? I never gave you my address.”

“I know your name, Sarah. I assumed you were renting in Cambridge. The web.

Hell, directory assistance as long as you didn’t make your number private.”

“Fine. So why?” She paused and he watched her thoughts click behind her eyes, a

prick of panic grow. “Evan. He’s okay? Did something happen?”

“He’s fine. He knows I’m here. It killed him to remain behind, but he knew I

needed to do this, me and you.”

“I don’t think there’s any more we need to do, Kirk. We covered it all nicely last

weekend.”

Fettered Love

“I brought something to show you.”

“I have the latest medical information on my condition, thank you. I’ve done the

research.”

He blinked, astounded how close to the mark she was after all these years. He’d

spent the last few days surfing the internet for information to help her. He had printed
out a few things to show her. Thing was, it wasn’t simply for her any longer.

Her foot tapped at his hesitation. “Tell me that’s not what you brought.”

“That’s not what I brought. Though I admit I thought about it.”

“Then what?”

He held up his web phone. “A video. Evan made it last year.”

“Home videos?” Her eyebrows rose.

“Ev’s idea.”

He scrolled through the phone, found the file and hit the button. “Here.” He held it

out to her.

After a moment, she took it.

He stepped closer to watch by her side.

“You were in the hospital?” she said, surprise in her voice.

“Appendicitis. Emergency surgery. It screwed up my entire fall last year.”

She returned her attention to the screen.

It showed a wavering picture of him in the hospital room. Evan behind the phone,

taking video while Kirk gave him the finger. There he was, in the bed, in one of those
Christ-awful exposing gowns. His memory melded with the picture on the screen.
Stuck in Mt. Auburn Hospital for seven fucking days. He heard Evan’s laugh in the
background at Kirk’s swearing. The camera built into the phone swung to a bedpan,
back up to his abandoned tray from lunch, which had consisted of Jell-O and broth.

The video ended, started up again as he was struggling out of the bed to walk to the

bathroom. Evan had held the phone out with one hand to catch the action as he went to

Michelle Polaris

Kirk’s side and helped him to stand, helped him do an old man shuffle to the toilet. The
picture switched again. It was late at night. Kirk slept. Evan caught video of him with
eyes closed, exhaustion on his haggard face. He’d looked like shit.

Weeks after release Evan still insisted on doing the heavy lifting, forbade Kirk from

going out on the wilderness bookings for the fall and early winter. The longest months
of his life with his harridan of a lover forcing him to go slow. It had only been
appendicitis.

The video ended with a last shot of Evan picking up Kirk in his arms from the

hospital bed, lowering him into the wheelchair on release day, a shit-eating grin on
Evan’s face. Oh yeah, when Kirk had regained his strength Ev got a special treat for that
one.

But one more image flickered on the screen. Kirk hadn’t been expecting it. Ev must

have cut off the file the times he’d played it for Kirk. The shot was a pan of flowers in a
vase. A wildflower bouquet Kirk had delivered to Evan when his convalescence finally
ended. To show how damn much it had meant to him, to both have Evan there to help
and to have discovered the true gift learning to let him care had been to Kirk.

The picture ended.

He was hyperaware of Sarah’s heat at his side. Kirk cleared his throat. “I hated

every minute of that recovery.” He pocketed the phone. “He had to help me to the
fucking bathroom, for Christ’s sake. But at the end, I saw how happy it made him to see
me heal right. I healed faster and stronger because of it. Although he complains I fucked
him with extra force and striped his ass and shoulders more than usual for months
after. But he signed on for a Master. He needs it. And I needed it as much as the TLC.
By the way that stands for Tender Loving Crap.”

Sarah showed her nervous tell, rubbing her thumb on the inside of her other wrist.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’ve changed. I accept help. I take what others have to give, others who

love me, with some grace. I’m never sweet about it, but that’s my grumbly charm Evan

Fettered Love

would say. And I thought that meant I’d grown up, but I’ve been a hard-ass these last
days and Evan has done me the dubious favor of pointing out my maturity level is in
question again. That there’s more for me to learn.”

Sarah shifted in place, listening.

“So now I’m faced with a woman who has love, tenderness and strength to give

both me and the man I love. A woman willing to give the greatest gift of life to us. But it
means looking beyond my hurt to what’s most important. I had to ask myself a couple
hard questions these last days. Was I adult enough to accept her gift? To trust her even
when the climb to the peak has been full of rockslides and unexpected sheers?”

“Were you?” Sarah asked with a quiet exhalation.

“Go down on your knees. Ask my forgiveness for leaving again. I’m taking a do

over.”

The anger stirred in her face. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I won’t tell the other girls in leather. The Domina

sisterhood will never find out. Trust me, Sarah. Please.”

She mumbled unattractive words, hesitated but finally kneeled back to the ground.

“Ask me again,” he repeated.

She lowered her eyes to the grass. “I feel stupid, but fine.” Her eyes shot up to him

standing above her. “Will you forgive me? For leaving? For not calling? For not taking
your help those years ago when you offered it out of love?”

Kirk dropped to his knees, eye level with her again, and grabbed both her hands as

she blinked. “I will. If you accept my apology for being that asshole both at Harvard
those last years and since you showed up these past days.” Small stones dug into his
knees through the fabric of his pants. He found it appropriate that his gesture came
with some discomfort. “I’m an idiot. I still love you, Sarah. I do understand the decision
you made. Even back then you were trying to protect both Evan and me while your
own life was falling apart.”

Michelle Polaris

He saw doubt in her eyes, the injury to her trust of him. And it pricked.

“You don’t believe me. I’m telling you this because I’m charged with bringing you

back. Orders from Evan.”

Her lips twisted. “I’m a mission. How lovely.”

“Look, dear, I showed you pictures of my bare ass hanging out in that hospital not

for jollies. Accept my apology, come back to us. We’ll have a passel of brats to make
Evan ecstatic. But even if we never have kids and it’s too late, we want you in our
lives.”

“Fuck, Kirk.”

“Yes, I think it would involve that. But you have two shooters to maximize the

chance of conception.”

“I’m not a charity case.”

Christ, the woman was stubborn. He let go of her hands, dug into his other pocket

to retrieve a slim chain link leash with an alligator clasp at its end. He handed it to her.

She took the chain.

“This offer is not charity,” he said. “I want you. I love you. And I trust you.” She

remained silent. “You need more to believe me.”

He began to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Lowered them to his thighs. He’d left off

the underwear for ease of movement in case it came to this.

Her voice rose. “What are you doing? We’re outside! In daylight. You’ll get

arrested.”

He glanced at his bared cock, the base wrapped in a leather cock and ball harness.

He grabbed the chain from her slack hand and clipped it to the O-ring on the harness,
handing her back the leash. “I’m declaring myself your baby-making slave. I will
submit to prodigious sex anytime. And on top of that, I offer you a chance to lash me
for my previous misbehavior. Ten good strikes, tool of your choice.”

“I don’t need you to submit to me, Kirk.”

Fettered Love

“On the contrary, I think you do. At least once and in limited circumstances. But in

turn, you let Evan and me try our best to knock you up. To take care of you, coddle you,
micromanage all the fertility issues—appointments, diet and exercise. To generally
behave as pain-in-the-ass bossy guys who want to take care of you. A baby will happen
if it’s meant to happen. You’re kick ass at caring for others. You suck at taking the same
for yourself, just like me. But if I can learn, so can you.”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a look of amused speculation. “I do think that

ass of yours might look good with lovely red crisscrossed welts, an X pattern, I think.
With a matching set on your shoulders and back. I could parade you naked at
Unfettered to show off my pretty work. I’d be the envy of the club.”

“That was not part of the contract I offered.”

She laughed and the relaxed smile looked great on her. “Too bad.”

“Well? Will you?” he asked.

The smile disappeared. Replaced with a brittle, tight line. “You hurt me, Kirk.”

“I hurt you. You hurt me. That’s what we do in D/s for the good, and as human

beings who love each other and struggle not to fuck it up too badly. But then we
acknowledge it and apologize and do better.”

“Can we do better?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

The unrelenting sunshine shone down, determined to bring hope despite his shaky

future wrapped up in her decisions.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“We’re all scared. We’re supposed to be.”

They shared the quiet between them for long seconds. And finally her face shifted,

relaxed. She nodded.

Kirk started to breathe again.

Michelle Polaris

Sarah grinned. She glanced down at his naked groin, reached for his cock and

teased the head as she unclipped the leash from the harness. His shaft jerked farther
toward his belly, having spent the last few days half hard with Sarah all he could think
about.

“Pull up your pants. Pack it away. I want to take this puppy home and try it out in

a comfortable bed.”

He chuckled. “If memory serves, you already tried it out. It fit well.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t try it knowing you were my baby-making love slave. That adds

a whole new dimension.”

He glanced down again at his cock. “Although I like to strive for improvement, I

suspect the dimensions will be the same.” He loved the easy teasing between them.
He’d missed it. Badly.

“Well,” she drawled, “at the very least I want Evan to see you tricked-out.”

Kirk pulled up his pants and zipped them closed. “You kidding me? He already

had me model the getup. Who do you think the cock harness and leash belong to?”

They both laughed this time, and the knots dissolved in Kirk’s neck and shoulders.

He snorted. “He even took pictures. Very demoralizing. I think he’s hoping for
punishment.”

“Then you’re in luck. I’m a wealth of devious ideas for punishment,” she purred.

“We tag team him.”

“It’s one of the advantages of our new arrangement, two dominants in the

household.”

“So it’s a yes?”

She bit her lip, nodded again.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” He recaptured her hand,

held it between his, and leaned in for a kiss.

She opened. Wet. Deep. Perfect.

Fettered Love

Too soon, he forced himself to pull back. “I love you.”

“I love you. Thank you for chasing me down this time.” Sarah punctuated her

words by crouching and kissing the zipper over his crotch. She looked up from her
awkward position. “For good luck. You know, for the baby making.”

She straightened and Kirk rolled his eyes.

Her gaze sparkled fiercely. “Now let’s go tie up our sub and celebrate.”

Kirk sighed with drama and covered his heart with his hand. “A girl after my own

heart.”

Her lips tilted with a wry pleasure. “Your heart, your soul, the entire package.”

“You got it, Sarah.”

He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go home.”

She grabbed on tight.

Michelle Polaris

Epilogue

Evan leaned against the car’s leather seat, focusing on the constriction of the double

chain of jewelry enclosing the base of his cock and balls. His and hers, matching
strands. His erection grew thinking about it, helped along by the plug he’d been
instructed to wear up his ass. He soaked in the bickering drifting from the front of the
vehicle. From Kirk and Sarah. He loved it. Six months since the collaring ceremony,
every minute serrated bliss.

“You’ve gone down the same block a dozen times, Kirk,” Sarah huffed. “It’s not

here.”

“1818 Bermuda, Unfettered’s address. We’re on Bermuda. It’s supposed to be right

here. It’s fucking disappeared. The same number is on an old Victorian, someone’s
home with boxes of daisies and all. But the club was in a converted warehouse
building.”

“The gall of the place to disappear,” she answered with no little sarcasm.

Kirk’s voice tightened. “Suggestions then? Tonight was meant to be a celebration,

returning to the scene of the crime.”

Sarah reached for her phone. “I’ll call the 1-800-DOM-help hotline. Maybe the

Operator knows.”

She dialed, listened. “That’s funny, a recording. Says the number is out of service,

no further information. The staff said nothing about that when I resigned.”

She returned the phone to her bag. “The universe is a strange place.”

Evan mused over the changes these past months, the unholy grace that had brought

them together where they belonged. “It’s magic.”

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at him and her smile of wicked promise set his

insides burning. “That’s why I keep a magic violet wand, angel.”

Fettered Love

Kirk turned the steering wheel, heading them out of the Brighton neighborhood

back to Cambridge. “Perhaps it’s a sign. I’m taking you home. It’s ten p.m. and you’re
exhausted.”

She turned back to their lover. “I’m pregnant, not elderly, Kirk.”

“You need your rest.”

“Newsflash. I intend to be active the entire pregnancy. Going to clubs, whip in

hand, finding all sorts of creative positions, even when I’m hippo fat, in which to fuck
Evan up the ass. Honing my rope suspension skills. Needles, suction cups, sensory
deprivation, any damn play I can manage.”

Evan squirmed in the backseat. Damn, he wanted them to bring him somewhere,

anywhere. Fast.

Kirk’s hands tensed around the wheel. “Of course.”

Sarah shot him a look, tilting her head in thought. The silence spread over the dark

interior, lights flickering by enough for Evan to catch moments of expression on their
faces.

Sarah’s appearance softened. She finally broke the quiet with a gentle, “Thank

you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be what I am despite your overwhelming Dom need to wrap me up

in cotton. For learning how to step back and still love me. These have been the best six
months of my life.”

He glanced over to her, a quick look before forcing eyes back on the road. “You’re

welcome.”

She sighed. “We’ll play for only a short bit, if you can find a place, then you can

tuck me into bed to get my rest.”

Kirk’s grin spread slowly over his face. “That will be my pleasure.”

Michelle Polaris

They were making this work, despite its unlikely success. The three of them, fools

in love and kink.

God, Evan prized it.

“I seem to remember a perfectly good dungeon at home,” he piped in. “You both

can dress up as magicians in tribute to the funky disappearing club and I’ll be the poor
beleaguered magician’s assistant whose body you use for your perverted, sexualized
and dangerous magic tricks.”

“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard today,” Kirk said, the car accelerating a degree

to Evan’s amusement.

But an eager Master was a damn hot Master and Evan’s cock danced at the

prospect.

From beside him, his Mistress spoke. “I’ve always wanted to cane a boy under a

trance spell.”

Evan swallowed a moan and prayed Kirk had luck with the traffic lights and got

them home fast. “Hit the gas, Kirk, or you’ll never make the green.”

Kirk’s low chuckle tortured him all the way from the seat in front, but the car sped

faster. He made the light.

“Well, loves,” Kirk drawled. “Let’s get the hell home and make us some magic.”

About the Author

Once described by a new age practitioner as having an old soul, Michelle remains

skeptical, but has learned to accept that the universe is a big place. Growing up, she
always wanted to write novels. Her dream of creating fantastical stories as a full time
career stayed with her after her first handwritten fantasy romance novella in middle
school.

Luckily, she has made that dream come alive. Michelle loves to explore the duality

of dark and light in her characters’ lives. Only when they push beyond the scars of their
souls to accept themselves (helped along, of course, by their lovers) can she feel content
she’s written a great story.

Living in a small New England town, she loves to rebel against a staid Yankee

lifestyle through the pages of her manuscripts. Michelle adores pushing the boundaries
of sensuality and taboo in her work, but mostly because, in the end, she knows that the
connections she forges between the hearts and souls of her characters will lead them to
happiness.

Michelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email

address on her

author bio page

www.ellorascave.com

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at

Comments@EllorasCave.com

Also by

Michelle Polaris

Bound Odyssey

Magician’s Chains

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning

publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you
breathless.

www.ellorascave.com

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The Magic

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