Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night

Chapter One

“It’s your bet, Master David.”

Silence hung over Dark Haven’s makeshift poker room as everyone waited for

Shelby’s sometimes-dom to answer Master Trevor’s challenge.

From her peripheral gaze, she noticed one of the dungeon monitors head for the door, presumably to fetch Master Xavier, the club’s owner. The friendly game of poker to benefit a children’s charity had just taken an interesting turn.

Shelby continued to kneel on the floor next to David’s chair and told herself a good sub would keep her gaze on the floor. A good sub would mind her business while the doms conducted their wager.

A good sub would school her mind and focus on her dom’s wishes. And David’s wish was for her to behave so he’d look good.

Earlier, after he’d picked her up from her hotel, he’d told her he intended to play Master Trevor in tonight’s charity Texas Hold’em tournament at San Francisco’s Dark Haven. In fact, if all went according to his plan, the evening would end in a showdown between Trevor and David.

Shelby knew that her friend, David, had a complex relationship with Master Trevor, and six months ago, he’d lost a sub to other man. According to the story, David had been at Dark Haven with Janine, a fun but fickle sub who changed doms like others changed shoes. After seeing that Master Trevor was alone, she’d unfastened David’s collar and tossed it over her shoulder before kissing Master Trevor’s boots.

Although Master Trevor hadn’t accepted Janine as his sub, hadn’t even played with her that night, David’s ego had still been battered.

And now that everyone else had folded or busted, the last hand of Hold’em had, indeed, come down to the two of them.

At the beginning of the evening, David had made a charitable contribution of a thousand dollars in exchange for poker chips. Earlier, he’d been up substantially. But over the last half hour, his pile had diminished rapidly. His bets had become more and more reckless, and it seemed as if he was barely looking at his cards, let alone the flop, before raising the stakes. If she’d noticed that, so had his opponent.

Tension rippled across the room.

Each man had already been dealt their first two—hole—cards. And only moments before, the dealer had turned over the flop, the first three of five potential community cards.

She had no idea what either man was holding in the pocket, but a surreptitious glance had told her the flop’s high card was a king of spades. There were no pairs, no other face cards. A heart and a diamond meant a flush was unlikely, possible but not probable.

“Master David?” Master Trevor prompted a second time.

Shelby noticed David’s hand form a fist alongside his right thigh, betraying his agitation. He’d run through his first thousand dollars. He was a lawyer in an area of town with a high crime rate. It was a decent job, she knew. It paid the bills, but David all but ran a nonprofit. He took on significant amounts of pro bono cases. His offices were run-down and beat-up, and he’d never met a sob story that didn’t tug his heartstrings or hurt his wallet. His wages definitely didn’t finance a luxury lifestyle.

Time dragged, and she shifted. Being a good sub, she was learning, wasn’t as easy in real life as it was in her fantasies. She knew stealing a glance at either man—especially Master Trevor—might earn her a spanking from an angry David, but out of boredom mixed with healthy curiosity, she was contemplating the risk.

Even though she lived in Denver and only visited Dark Haven a few times a year, she knew of Master Trevor’s stern reputation. Other subs dreamily whispered about him, wanting to experience his lash.

He stood well over six feet tall and commanded respect just by walking into a room. His broad shoulders, dark hair, unyielding jaw, and purposeful stride were the stuff of fantasies. Factor in his sexy, gravelly voice and she’d been a goner from the start.

If she were honest, she’d admit the other subs weren’t the only ones to fantasize about him. Ever since she’d first seen him last fall, she’d masturbated to images of him, and she hadn’t felt guilty doing so. He was exactly the type of man she wanted to dominate her.

She and David had known each other since college, and their friendship was more of a companionship than a relationship. Truth was, they were too good of friends to be fabulous lovers. Even their BDSM scenes had become a bit boring. She might not have a lot of experience, but she suspected he allowed her to get away with too much; being with him was nothing like her fantasies, nothing like the books she read or the videos she watched.

The last time she’d been with him in San Francisco, she’d tried to hide yawns she’d blamed on jetlag. She’d initially declined his most recent invitation, but when he’d mentioned that Dark Haven and its Western-themed night were on the agenda, she’d rearranged her client load so she could fly in and attend.

Even though she had been kneeling on the floor for at least an hour, seeing Master Trevor with a replica six-shooter strapped to his thigh made everything bearable.

A cowboy hat sat jaggedly atop his head, partially shadowing his steely, electric blue eyes.

He’d wrapped a dark blue bandanna around his throat, and a tailored Western shirt hugged his upper body.

Because she’d been placed on the floor like a good little sub, she knew his brown cowboy boots were authentic, marred and scratched by the years. He also wore a pair of spurs. The silver had dulled, but they had made a forceful sound when he’d walked across the floor earlier.

The dark color of his jeans had faded slightly, and he’d obviously worn them a number of times, long enough that the denim had broken in to hug his strong thighs.

Master Trevor sat easily in his chair, his shoulders relaxed. He toyed with several high denomination chips, turning them over between his thumb and forefinger.

Last night, after she’d packed her suitcase for the trip to the West Coast, she’d drizzled lube onto her bullet vibrator and lay down on her bed with her legs spread. She’d imagined him drawing her across a room and tying her to a spanking bench, her ass upturned for his hand or a flogger, whatever he chose. After tonight, though, and seeing the well-worn belt circling his waist, she knew future fantasies would include that supple leather against her backside.

Unable to help herself as the minutes dragged on, she sneaked a glance at the object of her desire. He looked at her—apparently sensing her perusal—and held her gaze captive.

A shiver of fear mixed with desire raced up her spine as they made eye contact.

In that brief second, his steel blue eyes promised one thing: punishment. If she were his sub, her out-of-bounds behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. He’d expect, and demand, perfect submission.

Her breaths threatened to strangle her.

She wanted him. She craved his dominance. And her raw need scared her.

He raised a brow commandingly and nodded toward the floor.

Even though he wasn’t her dom, she immediately dropped her gaze to stare at the wooden floor.

BDSM wasn’t a way of life for her. Rather it was something she occasionally enjoyed, much like having dessert after a celebratory dinner. The weekends a few times a year satisfied her needs. Or they had, until right now, until this powerful reaction to Master Trevor’s unspoken command.

She heard the echo of footsteps, and she dared another surreptitious look. This time, though, she didn’t look up. She glanced sideways so it wasn’t immediately noticeable that she was deliberately disobeying both Master Trevor and David.

Destiny, the club’s receptionist who seemed to know everything and everyone, and Master Xavier had entered the room.

The club’s enigmatic owner came in without saying anything. He didn’t need to. Master Xavier electrified the air. An alpha among alphas, he was dressed in black trousers and a burgundy vest. His long black hair hung down in back in an oh-so-sexy braid. As if comfortable with his legendary status, he folded his arms across his chest, lord and master of all he surveyed. Everyone knew it; everyone respected his authority.

“Having trouble with your sub?” Master Trevor asked David, looking across the table and inclining his head in her direction.

Oh God. Oh God.

Startled, fearful, she looked at him.

This wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He was as unyielding as his reputation suggested.

David dug his fingers into her hair and forced her head down. For long seconds he kept his hand painfully on her scalp. Her eyes watered, but she kept her mouth shut.

After his experience with Janine, she knew what her disobedience meant to David, especially in front of Master Trevor. More than ever, she wished she could behave better. In her mind, she was a much better sub than in reality.

Silence seemed to drag.

“What do we have here?” Master Xavier asked finally.

“We’re waiting, My Liege,” the dealer said. “It’s Master David’s turn to place his bet.”

True to the club’s theme night, the man looked every bit the part of an Old West poker dealer. He wore a long-sleeved striped shirt with a garter around his biceps. A knotted bow tie, gold brocade vest, jeans, and a hat completed his outfit.

David glanced across the table.

She knew they each saw the same thing. Master Trevor had the resources to call any bet he could make.

Pulling his money clip from his front pocket, David said, “Another thousand dollars in chips.”

Shelby gasped. Another thousand dollars? Was he crazy? He’d be willing to bet that on two potential turns of the cards?

“While the children’s charity will appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Master Xavier said, “the evening has already been a huge success.”

Shelby admired the owner’s tact. He was offering a dom an easy and graceful way to back out of his aggressive wager. No wonder the man was so respected in San Francisco’s BDSM circles.

“A thousand dollars,” David repeated, peeling off bills and tossing them onto the felt-covered table.

Shelby had never known David to be reckless. Suddenly she was questioning everything she knew about him. Surely the experience with Janine had stung, but no way did the woman matter that much to him. So what the hell was he thinking and doing?

As the moments stretched, Shelby concentrated on her breathing and keeping her body still and being a good sub instead of shifting uncomfortably. Her entire body was fatigued, and she wanted this ridiculous display of David’s masculine ego to be over.

Kneeling for several hours while the men played and she was ignored had not been what she was anticipating when she boarded the flight early this morning at Denver International Airport.

“My Liege?” the dealer asked.

Technically, this was against the rules. Chips needed to “purchased” up front, from the club’s receptionist, Destiny. David was behaving more like he was at a casino than at a charity event.

The quiet conversation that had hummed through the poker room abruptly died as people eavesdropped, waiting for Master Xavier’s decision.

“The children’s charity is the beneficiary,” Master Xavier said with a nod.

The dealer exchanged the cash for poker chips and then gave the money to Destiny for safekeeping.

For a minute, David sat there, as if considering his bet. “Five hundred,” he said finally, pushing a pile of chips into the middle of the table.

Someone whistled.

That was an aggressive bet considering his remaining funds.

Master Trevor studied the flop, but he never glanced at his two cards. Then he thumbed back the brim of his hat. He allowed thirty seconds to pass before he said, “Call.” He matched the other man’s bet.

Master Trevor had more than enough funds to raise the bet. It seemed that, since he hadn’t raised, he might be playing a bit of cat-and-mouse. Either that or the flop hadn’t helped him.

The dealer burned the next card. As each player watched intently, the man then flipped up the next one, known as the turn. Ten of spades.

David reached for her and put his hand lightly on the top of her head. He all but petted her. His touch telegraphed confidence. Maybe he did know what he was doing. She hoped he had spades in the hole.

Master Trevor waited for David’s bet.

“One hundred dollars,” he said, adding the chips to the pot.

The bet was at odds with the way he was stroking her. Either his bet was a bluff or his relaxed behavior was.

“Raise,” Master Trevor said. “Four hundred.”

The other dom apparently had a better hand, or he was trying to force David’s hand.

David was almost out of options. If he wanted to raise, he needed more chips. At this point, he had to fold or go all in.

Over the past few seconds, David’s hand had tightened on her scalp. He might have a good hand, but he didn’t have the funds to back it.

He reached for his money clip again.

Was he crazy?

Before peeling off the few remaining bills, he sat back and said, “Let’s make it more interesting.”

Master Xavier raised a brow.

Other doms, with their subs trailing behind, wandered over and formed a circle around the table.

“If I win, Lawton International remodels the Northwest Community law offices.”

Shelby gasped. She’d been thinking this might be about Janine and a grudge. And it had nothing to do with that.

He’d maneuvered this entire evening to manipulate Master Trevor into donating his time to David’s cause?

Master Trevor sat back in his chair. “You’re asking me to put up something close to half a million dollars?”

“I’ll buy materials.”

“Generous,” Master Trevor said.

For long moments he sat there quietly, a study in self-mastery.

Finally, Master Trevor nodded. “If I win, I want the sub.”

Shelby’s heart stopped.

“Wait a fucking—”

“Master David,” Master Xavier admonished quietly. “I’ll thank you to be more respectful in my club.”

Despite the fact David’s fingers were digging into her scalp, she looked directly at Master Trevor.

His gaze was pinned on her, hot, hard, as if he’d been waiting for and anticipating her inability to keep looking at the ground.

“Can’t get your own subs, Trevor?” David demanded.

Master Trevor didn’t respond. Rather, he continued to look at her.

She knew she should look down, show him the respect he demanded, but she didn’t; she couldn’t.

She felt scorched as his gaze trailed from her face, down her body, lingering for a few seconds on her chest. In keeping with the Western-themed night, she’d selected a white shelf bra and a fringed leather vest. She’s spent a week shopping for a beautiful sterling bolo tie. It had cost a lot more money than she wanted to pay, but the way it caught the light when she moved made it worth every penny.

He continued his perusal and paused again at her pelvis. Unlike some of the other subs who were almost completely naked, her mound was covered by a pink thong. Still, she had felt completely exposed to him.

As if they were alone, he slowly took in her white leather chaps.

She knew he wouldn’t be able to appreciate the sexy pair of heeled boots that completed her outfit. But his slow smile told her he found plenty he liked.

He’d taken his time looking at her, considering her. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be his sub and have his complete attention on her.

His gaze left her body, and he looked directly at David. “Do we have a bet?”

“This is an outrage,” David said. He slumped in his chair.

“Does that mean you’re not confident in that next card?” Master Trevor asked.

David sat up straighter and then leaned forward, glaring. “I accept your terms.”

Shelby gave up all pretense of minding her business.

“Let’s ask the sub if she agrees, as well,” Master Trevor said to Master Xavier. “I’m not willing to force the woman to do anything she doesn’t want to. But I think she’ll be willing.”

Was she that transparent?

Master Xavier folded his arms across his chest and nodded toward her. “Excellent suggestion.”

All eyes were on her. Her heart thundered. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this?

Instinctively she looked to David for guidance. He’d already agreed she’d be his stakes, but she had the opportunity to call off this ridiculousness.

She and David had been friends since college. They’d hooked up a few times in the last decade, but they hadn’t been exclusive for at least eight years. Despite their best efforts, their relationship was closer to companionship than spark and sizzle.

Still, she liked him, and she knew Janine’s defection had burned, at least a little. She felt torn. She didn’t want to cause his bruised ego any more damage, and her leaving tonight with Master Trevor would definitely batter David. On the other hand, the law center needed serious work. “Sir?” she asked David softly.

David drummed his fingers along his thigh. After a few seconds, he nodded without looking at her.

Master Xavier took control.

He walked over to her. He placed his finger under her chin and gently tipped her head back. “I don’t know you.”

“No, My Liege,” she said quietly. She could hardly hear above the racing of her heart, and her tongue didn’t want to form around any words. Now, of all times, she wanted to look at the floor.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I…” She blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the question.” Belatedly she added, “My Liege.”

“Your name.”

“Shelby. Shelby Salazar, My Liege.”

“And Shelby Salazar, I don’t see a collar around your neck.”

“No, My Liege. I don’t belong to anyone. I mean, I’m not a lifestyle sub. I…” She sought for the best explanation.

“She’s more of a dabbler,” David supplied.

“But she’s been here before,” Destiny said, walking over with a digital pad.

Shelby had been introduced to the club’s receptionist before. Destiny. Always outrageous, always welcoming, always on top of things. Nothing happened at Dark Haven that Destiny didn’t know about.

“Tonight is the sub’s fifth visit, My Liege,” Destiny said. “Always with Master David.”

Shelby nodded, confirming what Destiny said. “I live in Denver, My Liege, and I’m visiting San Francisco for the week.”

“Are you staying with Master David?”

“No, My Liege. I have a hotel,” she said.

“Do you know Master Trevor?”

“Only by reputation, My Liege.”

“I’ll amend my bet to say I’ll take the sub for the week she’s in town,” Master Trevor said.

“Generous bastard,” David muttered.

Master Xavier shot David a quelling glance. The other man shrugged and played with the few chips on the table. “Do you understand the stakes as Master Trevor has outlined them?”

She nodded.

“Tell me what you understand the stakes to be,” Master Xavier said.

“I understand that Master Trevor…” She trailed off and looked over at the dom. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. He was unyielding, uncompromising, and attractive as sin in a pair of jeans. This was the opportunity she’d dreamed of, with a man she had a crush on.

Hormones flooded her body. She wanted him, but suddenly nerves swamped her. Was she really going to agree to this? She looked back at Master Xavier. “Master Trevor wants me to be his sub for the week that I’m in town.”

“That means staying at my place,” he added.

Being cut off from her regular life, from David?

“Are you willing to agree to the terms, Shelby?” Master Xavier asked.

“If Master David says so, My Liege.”

“She does know how to behave,” Master Trevor said. “I’d wondered.”

Heat chased across her face. She wanted to show this man she could behave like a proper sub.

“I’ve already said I agree,” David said.

“Winner take all,” Master Trevor said.

“You’re not being coerced, sub?” Master Xavier asked.

“No, Sir.”

Master Xavier released her chin and stood. He nodded toward the dealer, and the man reached for the deck of cards.

The pot of money now a moot point, the dealer burned the next card before turning over the river, the fifth and final community card.

She held her breath, torn.

The jack of spades.

Several people in the room whispered. There were three spades showing. Definitely the potential for a flush. With the jack, a straight was a possibility.

She looked at David. His eyes were wide, and he nodded. Her friend definitely didn’t have a poker face. He squeezed her shoulder. She released her breath. As much as she wanted the opportunity to play with Master Trevor, she wanted David to win. His work meant everything to him.

His thinking had been brilliant. He’d spent six months fundraising, and he was at least another year away from being able to afford the much-needed building renovations.

Time for the showdown.

The dealer nodded to David. He turned over his pocket cards. The eight and nine of spades.

She schooled herself not to smile. But that flush was likely unbeatable.

She looked at Master Trevor. Unlike David, his face was set in unreadable lines.

The dealer signaled for Master Trevor to show his pocket cards. He turned over the two cards lying facedown on the felt.

Ace and queen of spades.

Royal flush.

David shoved back from the table and stood. Then, seeming to draw on the same reserve he used in the courtroom, he extended his hand toward Master Trevor.

The other man stood.

She was aware of the contrast between them. Master Trevor was a couple of inches taller than David. The other man’s shoulders were broader, his arms much more muscular, his thighs more powerful.

Soon, she would be alone with him.

Her heart beat impossibly fast in her chest.

“Congratulations,” David said as the two shook hands. His tone held no warmth. “I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.”

“She’s in safe hands,” Master Trevor promised.

“She means a lot to me,” David said.

Master Trevor nodded. As if she were a true sub, he didn’t address his comments to her. She was alternately thrilled and annoyed.

David crouched in front of her. “Behave yourself, sub.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was so much she wanted to say, needed to say. She ached to touch him, to reassure him.

“You’ve wanted something like this,” he said quietly.

“But—”

“We both know you weren’t getting what you wanted. Try to enjoy it. I’ll see you at the end of the week. I’ll take you back to the airport.”

She nodded.

“Call me if you need anything.” He stood and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “Anything.”

He stood. He didn’t touch her again. After nodding to the dealer, to Master Xavier, and ignoring Master Trevor, he left the room.

A few seconds later, Master Xavier said, “Game’s over, everyone. I invite you to enjoy the other pleasures at Dark Haven.”

Destiny signaled to the dungeon monitor stationed near the door. Together, she and the man shepherded subs and Doms toward the exit.

Several people stopped to congratulate her temporary dom before they left the room.

Because Master Trevor had yet to give her any instructions, Shelby remained on her knees, her gaze downcast as the noise in the room diminished.

At this point, she realized it was probably a good thing he hadn’t given any commands. Nervousness raced through her body, and she wondered if she’d be able to follow any direction, no matter how simple, he gave her.

“You’re free to go,” Master Xavier said to Destiny and the dungeon monitor.

Without a word, they left.

Master Xavier came over. “I trust this is only about you wanting to play with Shelby,” he said to Master Trevor.

Time seemed to simultaneously drag and zip by. She wanted to be alone with her new dom, but the prospect also frightened her.

“I told Master David the sub is in good hands. You have my word.”

“I expected nothing less,” Master Xavier said.

“We’d like to use the punishment room.”

“Consider it done.”

“My Liege.”

She heard the tone of respect in Master Trevor’s tone, but also the signal that, as far as Master Trevor was concerned, the conversation was over.

Master Xavier’s steps seemed to echo off the wooden floor as he left the room.

The echoing silence, the realization that they were alone, and that for the next seven days she was his sub, suddenly overwhelmed her.

She remained on her knees, her pulse ringing in her ears.

“I want to know about you,” he said. “How much BDSM experience do you have, sub?”

She kept her gaze cast down. “I… Very…” Her voice cracked. She sounded squeaky, lacking her usual confidence. In her job as a high-powered corporate mediator, she spent her days utilizing all her senses to tune into people’s subtle nuances. Even when she wasn’t feeling confident in her abilities, she squared her shoulders and projected authority.

But being on her knees, mostly naked, in front of this powerful man undid her.

“Go on,” he told her.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “Very little, Sir. A handful of experiences.”

“I could have guessed,” he said. “You were given the choice, and you agreed to be my sub for a week. Does that mean you want more experiences?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

She swallowed. “Yes,” she said again.

Continuing in his soft, probing way that reassured even as it demanded, he asked, “Do you know what that means?”

She could do nothing but look at his boots and be nearly overwhelmed by his presence. He was so close she breathed in his scent, that of crisp ocean air and raw masculine power. “Truthfully? No.”

“You have ideas.”

Who knew if they were close to reality, though?

“Tell me what you’re expecting. Or what you’re hoping.”

The sound of Master Trevor’s voice intoxicated her. It was deep, well modulated, firm, domineering. “I came to San Francisco because I want even more experiences. I’ve wondered…” She trailed off. She and David hadn’t even had this level of conversation. She just went along with what he wanted.

They’d visited Dark Haven a few times, so she’d seen other subs and Doms interact. She’d seen one sub attached to a collar and leash. The man had crawled behind his master and seemed happy to do it. Another female sub had walked in front of her master, her head lowered; her dom’s hand was fisted in her hair. And she did a fair amount of reading. Clearly no two D/s relationships were the same.

But she knew she wanted to experience more spice than she had with David. Their scenes were more like casual interludes with kinky clothes. At the end of the night, he dropped her at her hotel. What would it be like to wake up in the morning and be expected to continue the role of sub?

Master Trevor waited patiently for her answer.

“I have heard that you are harsh but fair.”

“Probably accurate,” he said. “And…?”

“If I am staying with you for a week, I understand you’ll probably have a set of rules you’ll expect me to follow.”

“I do. And if you break a rule?”

“I imagine…” Oh God. Oh yes. The idea of his supple brown leather belt against her exposed buttocks definitely made her shiver. The fantasy just got better and hotter.

“Tell me what you just imagined.”

She stalled.

“I don’t tolerate shyness or hiding, sub. Tell me what you just imagined. Now.”

“I imagined you…” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I imagined you punishing me.”

“Sir,” he said.

“I imagined you punishing me, Sir.”

“Punishing you how, sub?”

“Your belt.”

“Good to know,” he said. “Shall we begin?”

Chapter Two

Trevor saw her shoulders shake just a little, whether from fear or excitement he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was a combination of both feelings.

Since David had entered the poker room with the sub obediently following, Trevor had been intrigued.

He’d been in the scene a long time. He’d had subs. Twice, he’d even committed to 24-7 lifestyle relationships. But he’d gotten bored. On her way out the door, his last sub had accused him of being jaded.

He’d shrugged. She’d been partially right; he was jaded. But worse than that, he was bored, mind-numbingly, ready-to-change-anything bored.

As far back as high school, he hadn’t been interested in conventional relationships. He’d always been a leader, captain of the football team as well as the debate team. He’d had jobs throughout high school and college, but after graduation, he’d started his own company. For the first two years, he’d lived on packaged noodles and slept in his beat-up pickup truck.

Despite the odds, he’d never given up. Even when his family encouraged him to get a real job, he’d continued to live on fast food so he could spend his meager earnings buying the finest tools available to hone his craft.

In work, in life, in his relationships, his standards were exacting. He asked for what he wanted, and he never settled.

The woman kneeling in front of him did so imperfectly. She allowed her gaze to stray, and she wasn’t subtle about it. She shifted often, letting everyone know of her discomfort. Over the time that he’d watched her, she’d made little pretense at behaving well. She either didn’t know how to suffer for her dom or she’d never had a dom with exacting standards.

Shelby wasn’t the type of sub who would generally draw his eye. He played with experienced women who’d been trained by the best, women who knew his moods better than he did, anticipated his needs, and saw to them.

Perhaps, he reflected, that was exactly why she intrigued him. Her lack of expertise combined with an air of innocence was refreshing. Maybe for the next week, he wouldn’t be bored. “Stand.”

She rose slowly and a bit unsteadily, as if nervous and fighting cramped muscles.

“Do you want me to call you Shelby?”

“Yes,” she said.

He cocked his head.

“Shelby is fine, Sir. Thank you.”

She was a hot little number, no doubt. Shelby Salazar’s dark hair flowed over her shoulders. The vest and bolo tie were sexy, white leather chaps wrapped around her slender legs. The feminine pink thong she’d added provided a splash of color and a hint of intrigue.

He was man enough to appreciate the way the white and splash of pink complemented her tanned skin, and he was more than man enough to appreciate those sexy, stylish boots. Rather than cowboy boots, she’d chosen soft black leather with a spiky heel. Testosterone surged in his bloodstream. It had been a while since he’d had such a raw reaction to a woman. Master Xavier’s Western-themed night had been a brilliant idea. “Turn around.”

She did, exposing her bare buttocks. He looked forward to stroking the flesh there and holding her cheeks apart while he took her anally.

“Nice. Spread your legs and bend over.”

For a moment, she hesitated. He suddenly looked forward to helping her improve her reaction time.

“Grab your ankles.”

“I…”

“Is there a physical reason you can’t do what I asked?”

“No…Sir.”

“I don’t tolerate embarrassment in my subs, Shelby.”

She slowly complied.

“Legs farther apart,” he said softly but uncompromisingly.

She wiggled on those sexy heels. It took her several seconds to get into position, and he enjoyed every moment spent watching.

Trevor took a few steps toward her. He heard the soft sounds of her rapid breaths.

He crouched behind her and said, “Reach back, sub, and spread your ass cheeks.”

It took her so long to respond that he wondered if she actually would. Since she was bent over, he could see her eyes, wide and blinking. A little furrow was buried between her elegantly shaped brows.

Her breaths were even shallower. He wondered if she were on the edge of panic. “You’re okay,” he told her. “Just listen to me. Stay focused. Know that it’s okay to surrender. I’ll keep you safe.” If she truly panicked, he’d let her go.

Even though Xavier kept the club warm, she shivered.

He gentled his fingertips down her back. “Go for what you want, Shelby.” He kept his tone even and reassuring but also uncompromising. “I want you to know that when you do what I tell you, when you push past your comfort zone and do something that you might think is nasty, you’ll be pleasing me. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

Then, commandingly, uncompromisingly, he snapped, “Now show me your submissive ass and cunt.”

After several seconds and another half dozen shaky exhalations, she closed her eyes and reached back. In the future, he wouldn’t permit her to close her eyes.

“Gorgeous,” he said. And she was. She’d painted her fingernails a striking red. The sight of the bold color nails against her gorgeous olive skin made his cock throb. He hadn’t had a sub, or any woman, in months. Suddenly he wanted to take her fast and hard, possess her, claim her, mark her as his. “Stand up slowly and turn to face me.”

She complied, taking her time. Her motions had a bit more elegance to them. She learned quickly. Beautiful.

“Look at me,” he told her.

She did, but then she instinctively looked down.

Good. “When I give you an instruction, it supersedes previous direction.” Quietly he repeated, “Look at me, Shelby.”

She did. Maybe he’d ask her to do that more often. Her green eyes were lovely, wide, unblinking, no pretence, no artifice. “I want to make a few things clear, Shelby. You are free to leave anytime you wish over the next week. I don’t keep submissives against their will. Just say the word and I’ll have a driver at your disposal. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“But if you’re curious, if you want to experience more, you’ll need to push yourself, and you’ll need to trust me. That will take time, but I have the patience, if you do. I will take you past every inhibition, every fear. At the end of the week, you’ll feel no more embarrassment, and you’ll respond perfectly to my commands. By freeing yourself, you’ll find out what you really enjoy, what you really want. It’s up to you, Shelby. You came to San Francisco for a reason. Go for it, and you may get everything out of your trip that you hope to.”

“I…” She trailed off and frowned.

She might be innocent, but she knew at least the basics, whether she normally practiced them or not. “Permission to speak,” he said.

“I want it.” She licked her lower lip. “I want to have this experience.”

He had an image of her tongue against the tip of his cock. His pulse throbbed. He’d told her he had patience. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure. “Even if it means you’ll be punished as part of your training?”

“Yes. I’m just nervous.”

“Nerves, we can work with,” he told her. “Lies, lying to yourself, lying to me, won’t be tolerated.”

She nodded.

“How do you normally deal with fear?”

She exhaled. “By jumping in with both feet, Sir. Like getting in a swimming pool where the water is too cold. I plug my nose and jump.”

He appreciated her answer. “We’re going to move to one of the punishment rooms.” The room had a spanking horse. Definitely fitting for the club’s Western night theme. Master Xavier and his team really did think of all details when they put together these events. “You’ll follow me there, staying approximately three feet behind me. I want your gaze downcast, but I want you paying complete attention to what I do. If I stop, you stop, staying three feet back. If I point to the floor, I want you to instantly kneel with your knees approximately shoulder-width apart. If I walk faster, you speed up. Any questions?”

She shook her head.

“When I ask a question, Shelby, I expect an answer, unless you are gagged or otherwise instructed not to speak. I demand honest and immediate answers.”

A beautiful blush highlighted her cheekbones.

“No questions, Sir.”

“Follow me.” He led the way to the door and out into a common area of the club. A few curious people turned their direction, and he wondered how his new sub would behave. He probably should have requested a leash and collar for her.

She did well, keeping her eyes downcast and staying behind him.

He stopped once, as a test.

She immediately stopped.

When he pointed to the floor, she knelt.

He left her there, kneeling, for at least thirty seconds before slowly walking around her. Other people walked past and one domme gave Shelby an appreciative glance. He didn’t blame the woman. Honestly, he had a difficult time keeping his gaze off her. She was an enchanting woman, with striking outfit and the mass of riotous black hair framing her face and falling over her shoulders.

The next week had definite potential.

She kept her gaze downcast, just like a perfect sub.

“Stand,” he told her.

With a lovely elegance, she did.

His cock hardened. Playing with her would be torture for him.

He entered the punishment room, and she followed at exactly the right distance. That shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did.

The punishment horse dominated the space, and he noticed her gaze fixate on it. And no wonder. It was a fierce looking device. It had a tall, thin center beam and two other beams, one on each side, so a sub’s knees would be supported, something he appreciated since he enjoyed long scenes.

Red vinyl covered the horse, and it was artfully decorated with two dozen metal rings. There was no limit to the ways a sub could be secured to the contraption.

He pointed to the floor, and she slowly knelt. “Knees farther apart. And clasp your hands at the small of your back.”

While he closed the door, she did as he instructed.

“You’re going to be punished,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

He was just trying to decide whether or not to have her completely naked before starting. Generally Trevor preferred his subs to be nude when he punished them. Often he had them disrobe symbolically.

He liked that, when naked, his women were unable to hide from him. He didn’t want any skin off-limits to his touch. If he wanted to make a point by landing a stroke against the inside of a thigh, he didn’t want fabric minimizing his blow.

Mostly he just loved the sight of a woman’s body with its tantalizing skin and soft curves. But this vixen, in white leather chaps and hot little boots was making him rethink his strategy.

He stopped behind her and said, “Tell me why you’re going to be punished.”

“Sir, because I didn’t keep my gaze downcast in the poker room.”

“No,” he said. “If you’d been my sub at the time, you’d have been punished swiftly while we were in the poker room. But I would have made my expectations clear beforehand. It’s doubtful you’d have even attempted that kind of disobedience.”

He moved around to stand in front of her. He saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “It was Master David’s right and responsibility to ensure your proper behavior before you agreed to submit to me. If he chose not to correct you, that doesn’t concern me.” He crouched. He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head so that she looked at him.

Her eyes were wide, unblinking.

“Tell me why I would choose to punish you.”

“Because you can,” she whispered.

“Sometimes,” he agreed. He traced the pad of his thumb across her upper lip, taking his time, making sure she was as aware of him as he was of her. He admired his own restraint. He wanted to see her strapped to the horse, her body trembling in anticipation. “Keep going. Why else are you being punished?”

“Because it took me so long to grab my ankles when you told me to.”

“And?”

“Because I hesitated before…”

“No embarrassment,” he reminded her.

“I hesitated before I spread my ass cheeks.”

“It’s more about the fact you hesitated at all, no matter what the order. Since you’re unaccustomed to dealing with a dom who has uncompromising expectations, this punishment will be lenient as far as punishments go…simply a taste of my lash, more instructive than punitive. But make the same mistake a second time and I promise you will not enjoy the experience.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me your understanding of the differences between punishment and discipline.”

“I…” She licked her lower lip. “I’m not sure I know.”

“Punishment is generally swift and in direct proportion to the nature of the infraction.”

“I see.”

“Discipline is something I’ll engage in to ensure your continued good behavior. I’ll guarantee you’ll never climax from my punishments.”

“And from your discipline?”

Cheeky sub. With his thumb he stroked her cheekbone. “Almost always.” He released her chin. He stood and folded his arms across his chest. “Stand. I’m going to cut off your panties.”

Her eyes opened wide. He wondered for a moment if she’d argue with him, but finally she complied, even though her movements were slow and a little jerky. They’d work on that over the next week. He watched and waited with infinite patience. This may have been the best bet he’d ever won.

From a hook on the wall, he grabbed a pair of safety scissors, like the type carried by EMTs. Master Xavier equipped his club well. “Put your hands behind your neck,” he told Shelby.

“The panties…they’re new.”

“And?”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

She stood still while he crouched to snip the scrap of fabric from her hips.

“Lovely,” he said as the ruined thong dropped to the wooden floor.

She closed her legs. Then, without being instructed, she parted them again.

Quick learner.

Trevor allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her, from top to bottom.

Her unruly hair fell over the feminine curve of her shoulders. She had a lovely, kissable neck, and the concha from her bolo tie lay alluringly against her throat. He liked the looks of her in anything that resembled a collar.

The vest, even though it wasn’t fastened, covered far too much, especially since she’d also worn a bra. If she were his sub, he wouldn’t allow her to wear so damn many clothes. Still, he appreciated the tantalizing hint of midriff.

His gaze continued lower, and he appreciated the well-groomed thatch of her pubic hair. “Lovely,” he said. But he’d ceremoniously remove it later, as a sign of his dominance. “Now remove everything from the waist up.” She could leave the chaps in place, he decided. The white leather against her dark skin looked beautiful, and he particularly liked the way the boot heels emphasized her calf muscles. Naked, he was learning, wasn’t always best.

She shrugged out of the vest and held it by her side.

Her nipples, dark and hardened, peeked out above the lace of her shelf bra.

What the hell had he been thinking choosing celibacy for the past few months?

He took the vest from her and hung it on a peg on the wall.

She took off the bolo, then shook her head. He wanted to have his hands in the riotous mess of her hair, holding her captive while he fucked her from behind. “I’ll take that,” he said, extending his hand for the metal tie.

She handed over the bolo, and he placed it around his wrist. Her breasts spilled out over the top of the shelf bra’s lacy cups. Although her breasts weren’t large, they were firm, beautiful, touchable, and kissable. “Now remove your bra,” he instructed.

Silently she reached back and unfastened the clasp.

“Wait. I changed my mind.” He wanted to touch her, to feel the silkiness of her skin. “I’ll do that.” He drew the bra off her body. Until he’d said that, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was to touch her skin. He might be a dom, but he was a man first.

He skimmed his fingers across her chest. Her skin felt delicate in contrast to his work-roughened fingertips. He stroked the tips of her breasts, watching as her nipples hardened. Her breaths became even more shallow, and her lips were slightly parted. God. She was absolutely lovely in her responses.

After mentally reminding himself that he was responsible for this scene going well, for it being everything she hoped it would be, he turned away long enough to hang the bra on the same hook as her vest. “Offer your breasts to me,” he said when he returned to her.

“I…” She blinked. “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“Do your best,” he told her.

She cupped her breasts and lifted them up.

“Perfect,” he said. His cock pressed against his zipper. “Squeeze your nipples.”

She did, and she let out a little moan.

“Again,” he said.

As she squeezed those taut brown tips, her hips jerked a little.

“Is your pussy damp, little sub?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You like having your nipples played with?”

“Yes, Sir. I do.”

“Show me.”

She released one of her breasts and trailed her fingertips between her legs. Then she held up her fingers.

In the overhead light, he saw the glisten of her feminine juices. “You are responsive.”

“To you, Sir.”

He captured Shelby’s hand, his fingers around her wrist. He raised her hand to his mouth and licked the juices off her fingers.

She gasped. “Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Yes.”

“That was hot.”

“Glad you approve.” He’d suspected having her as his sub for a week would be good. He hadn’t known how good. He reluctantly let go of her wrist and said, “You may release your nipple, Shelby, then your breast.”

She did, then allowed her arms to dangle at her sides.

“You wanted to feel my belt?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, as if it were a deep, dark secret.

And maybe, he realized, to her, it was. If David hadn’t pushed her, chances were she still had a lot of unexplored territory. He looked forward to uncovering it with her. “Remove it from me.”

Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the buckle. Finally she managed to get it apart, and she pulled it through the denim loops. “I look forward to you becoming more proficient at that.”

She offered the length of leather to him.

“Kiss it,” he told her.

She gulped, but she did as he instructed. If she continued to be so obedient, he’d have to leave the room and jack off. It had been a long time since he’d been so aroused by being with a woman.

After several seconds, he accepted the belt from her. He held the buckle in one hand and allowed the leather to dangle from his grip.

She remained where she was, and she twisted her hands in front of her while her gaze seemed riveted on the belt.

“In the absence of other instruction, always clasp your hands behind your back.” When she did, he said, “Nice. I like the way that forces your breasts out.” He saw that telltale blush again. “Do you have a safe word?”

“Tangerine.”

“Tangerine? You’ll actually remember it during a scene?”

“I hate tangerines,” she said. “I never forget them during a scene.”

He laughed. “You don’t get to use the word just because you hate something.”

“Oh.”

“You know that, right?”

“I… Uhm. No. That hasn’t been the way it’s worked in the past.”

“Master David allowed you to stop a scene anytime you wanted?”

“Of course.”

“Never pushed your boundaries?”

“Not unless we talked about it beforehand.”

“I see.” Each dom had his own style, but even given that, the man was too relaxed. No wonder she’d been all over the place in the poker room. “Master David is the only one you’ve explored BDSM with?”

“Everything else was strictly vanilla. Strictly boring.”

“You obviously didn’t like that.”

“My job can be intense,” she said. She hesitated, as if contemplating how much to reveal before continuing. “I’m a mediator. I walk, I run, go to the gym, swim, try to avoid too much alcohol. But nothing takes away my stress like sex. Good sex.”

“Define good sex.”

“It’s where I can let go and surrender. There’s…” She exhaled. “Pain involved.”

“You’re a masochist.”

“Maybe a little.”

“But you still like to be in charge.”

“I don’t really see it that way.”

Of course she didn’t; she was a born negotiator. “You want to choose the implement, the time, the place, and, if I don’t miss my guess, decide when you go home.”

“Yes.”

“That’s being in charge,” he said. Slowly he wrapped the belt around his wrist, making sure her gaze was on it. “Telling your dom how to dominate you isn’t supposed to be how it works. And you know that too, otherwise you’d have taken the out when Master Xavier offered it.” Trevor studied her. When he spoke, he dropped his voice. “That’s what you want. That’s why you haven’t bolted, isn’t it? You don’t want to be in charge. You already know I’m not the kind of man who will tolerate any nonsense from you. Things that are definitely outside your comfort zone, we will discuss. And know this, Shelby, I will push your boundaries; I’ll push them hard. And my guess is, you’ll like it.” He looked her in the eye. “Overuse your safe word and I’ll put you on a plane myself. Do you understand?”

Her eyes were wide. She glanced, not at all subtly, over her shoulder at the door.

“Run, little sub. Run like your life depends on it, and run now. Either that or stand up, walk over to that horse, and get on it like a good girl. I want you at the end, not the middle. I want your hot ass sticking up and out. Then ask me to tie you to it.” She’d confessed to being a little bit of a pain slut. He suspected she liked to be told what to do and how to do it, until she balked. Having her ask him, beg him, to punish her was likely out of her comfort zone…a place, as he’d told her, that he intended to keep her.

He left his belt on a small table and grabbed restraints from the wall while she hesitated.

She looked from the door to the horse. She stood slowly.

If he was sure of one thing, it was that she wouldn’t run. She was scared all right, but as he’d said, she knew, deep down, that she didn’t want to be in charge.

“Uhm…do you want me to remove the boots and chaps, Sir?”

“Hell no. The chaps make your ass stick out.”

“For punishment,” she said.

“Because it looks hot,” he corrected. “You’ve got a nice ass, Shelby. And those chaps frame it perfectly. And you know it.”

She climbed up onto the punishment horse and placed a leg on either side of the bar, in kneeling position. She slowly lowered herself onto her belly. Her breasts were loose, which he wanted. Her arms dangled at the sides.

“Scoot back a little,” he told her. “I want your ass more accessible.”

She took so long he wasn’t sure she was going to comply.

“It seems obscene,” she said.

“It is.”

Despite her small protest, she did as he requested.

He looked at her for a moment. Her position was obscene. And sexy as hell. He crossed to her. He fingered her cunt, finding her moist. Slowly he rubbed a finger back and forth over her clit, and she moaned as she became more and more lubricated.

He placed a hand on each of her generous butt cheeks and spread her ass. She gasped, and she squirmed, but she didn’t try to get away. “Are you an anal virgin?”

“Except for one time when I was in college. I was dating a guy who stuck a finger up there. I hated it, and I told him never to do it again.”

“You’ve never worn a plug?”

“It’s on my ‘no’ list.”

“Was on your ‘no’ list,” he corrected.

She shuddered.

“Not immediately,” he said. “I won’t make you wear a plug tonight, but soon.”

“I…I want to talk about my list.”

“Of course.” He kept his hand on her and leaned in a little closer. “Do you want to talk about it now? Do you want to try and control this scene, or do you want to let go and enjoy this? Do you want to see where it goes?”

Seconds stretched into at least a minute.

She was a tough one. She’d require patience and perseverance in equal measures.

Finally, quietly, she said, “Please, Sir, tie me to the horse.”

“My pleasure, sub.” He wrapped one of the fabric strips around her right ankle, outside her boot. He secured her to one of the hooks.

Without being prompted, she tested the bond.

He’d adjusted the length of the strap so that she’d have a little slack. The bond wasn’t tight enough to cause her a muscle cramp, but she wasn’t going far.

Moving to the other side of the horse, he secured her left ankle. “How are you doing?” he asked when she pulled against the tethers.

“Okay, Sir,” she said.

Her voice shook just a little.

Then she added, “I’m scared. Nervous.”

“You’re allowed to be nervous.” He skimmed his fingers down her tense spine. “Scared, you can leave behind. I won’t do anything to frighten you. Breathe,” he told her. “Concentrate on your breathing. In and out.”

Her first few breaths were shaky; then she seemed to relax into the punishment horse.

“Please, Sir, tie my wrists.”

“You’re being brave.”

“It’s not easy,” she confessed.

He wanted her to enjoy this experience. He’d tied up women and beat them hundreds of times. But since she was so new to this experience, he was determined to ensure the beating would be memorable for Shelby.

He removed his fingers from the small of her back and crouched next to her. Her left cheek rested on the top pad, so she was looking at him.

“Do you want to be blindfolded?”

“Do you want me to be blindfolded, Sir?”

“Correct answer,” he said. In some things, she was a complete innocent. In others, she was delectably experienced. “This time, I’m offering you a choice.”

“I’d like to be able to see, if it’s okay with you, Sir.”

He gently took her right wrist, wrapped it in fabric, and then pulled it back a bit before securing it. The bondage would restrict her forward motion, making it more difficult for her to evade his belt.

He noticed her chest was rising and falling more rapidly than a few seconds before. “Remember to breathe.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Then he took her left wrist and secured it as well.

He stood back to admire her.

She pulled against each restraint, and her eyes widened when she obviously realized how helpless she was.

She truly was lovely in her bondage, with her delectable ass sticking out and emphasized by the chaps. He couldn’t wait to see the tantalizing flesh striped by his belt. “How many strokes do you deserve?”

“Sir?” She squirmed.

“Answer the question, lovely sub.” He fingered her clit, making sure she stayed aroused, despite her fear.

“Uhm… Eight?” Quickly she added, “Sir.”

“Eight it is.” He slid a finger inside her, feeling her vaginal walls tighten.

“Could I have gotten away with six?”

“You’ll never know,” he said. “But if you try too few in the future, I’ll double whatever you suggest.” He found her G-spot.

“Oh! Oh!”

Her response, so honest, so enthusiastic, made his cock harden. She squirmed and moaned. “Do not come,” he told her.

“S…sir?”

“You don’t have permission to come, little sub.”

“But—”

“Do not come,” he snapped. He felt her go rigid, saw her hands dig into the side of the horse. She couldn’t be any more responsive, any more perfect. He looked forward to driving her crazy with his hands, his mouth, and his cock. Master David had been an idiot not to tame her, not to give her what she craved.

“Sir, I’m begging.”

Her voice was high-pitched, and her body was shaking. It took all his restraint not to forget he was supposed to be punishing her. Very quietly, he said, “No, Shelby.” Relentlessly he continued the torture, finger-fucking her tight pussy, feeling her getting hotter and hotter. No matter how hard she was fighting it, he knew she was only moments away from climax.

“Sir! I can’t…”

He abruptly stepped back, removing his hand from her heated cunt.

“Damn it!”

“Another time, you’d be punished for your inappropriate reaction,” he told her. “I expect your gratitude when you’re allowed to orgasm. I expect your patience when you’re not allowed to come.”

“I apologize, Sir.”

“Smart girl.” He placed a palm on her right butt cheek and squeezed firmly, a small, added warning. “You’ll come when I say, Shelby, and only when I say. You’ll come for my pleasure. If it pleases me to let you orgasm, I’ll give permission. Otherwise, you’ll deal with it. Am I clear?”

Her whole body shook, but she managed a weak, “Yes.”

“Now, sub,” he said, his hand still on her butt cheek, “beg me to beat you.”

Chapter Three

Shelby could barely think, let alone speak. Her brain felt scrambled from the sensual onslaught. He’d brought her to the brink of orgasm and denied her any pleasure. She’d been ready to scream when he moved his hand away. This man truly was a master. He knew instinctively how she wanted to be touched. He read her body language perfectly. There would be no hiding from him.

“Beg me,” he repeated.

He squeezed her rear tightly. His grip felt like a combination of threat and promise. Her entire body was tingling. She wanted this. She wanted him. “Please,” she said. “Please beat me with your belt, Sir.”

“Eight strokes,” he told her.

She curled her right hand into a fist.

The punishment horse supported her torso, and the vinyl beneath her naked body had warmed slightly. Cool air whispered from the overhead vents, but her body still felt overwhelmingly hot.

“We’ll start slow by getting blood flow to your ass so you don’t bruise.”

He rubbed her rear roughly. Despite her efforts to stay still, she moved and squirmed against the horse. Even that small contact made her pussy wet all over again.

“The leather of your chaps will soften the blow from the tip of my belt. You can thank me for that later.”

Later. The reminder that there was way more than this ahead of them made her tremble.

She watched as he walked to the table to collect his belt. Maybe she should have been blindfolded.

A dozen feelings warred inside her. Pleasure and anticipation combusted and drowned in the face of her fear. He’d given her repeated reassurances. He’d proven his adeptness at reading and responding to her body’s cues. And he’d been tolerant of the missteps she’d already made. But she was still apprehensive.

“Count every stroke aloud,” he told her. “And thank me for each.”

He moved behind her and stood there for several long seconds.

She thought she was ready for the first blow, but nothing could have prepared her for the blazing, searing sensation that bit her tender flesh when the leather cracked simultaneously across both butt cheeks. “Fuck!” she screamed. She gasped and pulled against the restraints.

“This is punishment, Shelby.”

Punishment? He could bite her. She’d never felt anything like that before. “Bastard!” Anger pushed reason aside. “You said we’d start slow!” She wanted to call him a dozen more vile names, but she bit her tongue.

“Are you done yet?”

“Fuck,” she said again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Would you like to use your safe word?”

As the pain receded, she noticed that her cunt felt damp and her skin felt as if it were hypersensitive. That wasn’t possible.

“Shelby? Do you want to safe word out?”

Did she?

“It’s your choice. You’ve only received a single stroke, but if you can’t take it, safe word out.”

He touched her clit and gently rubbed it. Like a naughty girl, she pushed her body back, trying to get him to use a little more pressure.

As she’d known he would, he moved his hand away. She moved her pelvis against the horse, seeking relief that she couldn’t find.

“Safe word out, Shelby, or we start over.”

She gasped. “Start over?”

“I don’t tolerate that type of bad behavior. You’ll take your punishment with grace or not at all. Your choice.”

When she didn’t respond immediately, he laid the belt across her bare back and crouched next to her. His eyes were steely blue. His mouth was set in a grim line. His jaw was tight. And he smelled of masculinity and wind-whipped ocean air.

He unfastened the strap attaching her right wrist to the bench. He rubbed her wrist lightly.

“Wait,” she said.

He met her gaze. She knew she could get lost in the depths of his eyes. Suddenly she didn’t want him to send her away. She wanted to see where this went.

“Make no mistake, Shelby. This is not a game. As far as punishments go, that stroke was pretty tame.”

It hadn’t felt tame to her. She gritted her teeth and managed, barely, not to tell him that. The pain had completely vanished, and her entire pussy felt hot. She was needy. Horny. She wanted more, wanted to know how much she could take. “I want to continue. Refasten that bond.” With her cheek on the vinyl padding, she continued to look at him. “Please refasten that tie, Sir.”

“One more outburst like the previous one, Shelby, and your decision will have been made for you.”

“I understand.”

He secured her to the bench again.

“Stick out your ass. Do not grind that hot cunt against the horse without permission.”

She maneuvered her body as best as she could while tied in place.

“Relax into it,” he coached her.

She laughed, and the sound was slightly brittle.

“Fighting it will make the pain worse and lessen your enjoyment. Surrender.”

As if.

“Count after each stroke. Dip your ass and get your ass immediately back into position.”

He removed the brown belt from her back. She watched as he doubled it over and secured it in his grip.

Her mouth dried.

He stepped behind her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she clenched her butt cheeks.

“It’ll hurt more that way,” he cautioned her.

She exhaled and forced herself to relax her buttocks. “I’m ready, Sir.”

She didn’t hear anything.

Instead, she felt the blunt sting of leather against her left ass cheek.

She screamed and dug her fingers into the horse.

She’d been more prepared for this blow, and it didn’t startle her as much as the first had. It still hurt, still burned. In fact it freaking scorched her ass. But she was better able to contain her reaction.

Except for the ragged sound of her breathing, the room was silent. She heard muted noise from outside the door, a muffled yelp, and maybe stilettos against a wood floor.

She suddenly realized he was waiting. “One,” she said. “Thank you.”

Shelby remembered to stick her ass out. Then she forced herself to unclench her muscles so the next hit wouldn’t hurt so bad—at least theoretically.

“Good girl,” he said.

The leather bit into her skin again, on her other butt cheek.

This time, she gasped rather than crying out. “Two. Thank you, Sir.” Her ass well and truly burned. He’d landed a stripe across both cheeks; then he’d landed two more perfectly across the first, one on each side. If the chaps provided any protection from his aggression, you couldn’t prove it by the way her skin felt.

He dug his fingers into her hair and pulled slightly. She wiggled around. The way he was so intimately holding her turned her on.

He stayed there for a few moments, and her pussy became increasingly wet. She had an urge to kiss him, to thank him. She wanted to be in his arms.

He released his grip on her hair.

“Relax,” he told her.

The belt snapped against her rear, catching the outside of her right hip.

“Thank you.” She knew, from her reading, how skilled a disciplinarian he was. His blows were deliberately timed, deliberately placed. There was no rush. He knew what he was doing, and he was delivering the punishment perfectly. She just wished she were able to enjoy it more. “Three.”

By the time he landed the fourth stroke, she had found a rhythm. He’d smack her. She’d respond by clenching, then unclenching her fists, splaying her fingers as she relaxed. Then she’d thank him as she moved back into position.

“Nicely done,” he told her.

He seemed to always give her about thirty seconds to pull herself back together. She liked the pace. Not too fast, but he didn’t keep her waiting so long that nerves had a chance to gather in the pit of her stomach.

She closed her eyes and waited for the fifth.

This time, he allowed a little more time to pass. She wondered if he was looking at her pussy or seeing the red welts across her skin. Either way, the idea oddly excited her.

He landed the fifth harder than the others. She cried out. She clenched her fists several times and dragged in a few ragged breaths. “Five. Thank you.” Because she didn’t want him to start over again, or, worse, send her away, she left out her instinctive fuck you.

He skimmed his fingers down her back, and the motion soothed her. He was good; she had to give him that. He pushed her to the edge, and once he had her there, he offered reassurance.

After a few seconds, he left her, and she forced herself to keep her body relaxed.

“This one will be the worst,” he warned her. “But you can take it.”

Yeah. But with grace?

He moved off to the side. “Remind me why we’re doing this.”

“Because of my bad manners,” she said.

“No,” he said. “It would have been double if we’d been teaching you manners.”

She ground her back teeth together. Was she really that bad? “Because I hid my ass from you?”

“Scoot back a little more.”

Fear made the sweat on her back turn cold. But his punishments were having their desired effect. She was responding to his commands instantly.

He squatted behind her and spread her ass cheeks.

She felt color spread across her face.

He pressed a finger against that tight whorl. She started to pull away but stopped herself, even though she did squeeze her eyes tightly shut.

“Beautiful.”

He didn’t try to penetrate her. He just kept his fingertip against the opening.

“You’re being very brave, Shelby.”

She continued to breathe in and out as he’d told her. She focused on nothing else, and she realized it was helping her keep panic at bay.

He moved his finger away, and she sighed in relief.

She heard rather than saw his motion and realized he’d stood.

She only had a few more strokes to go. And now she was torn. She’d never been so exquisitely examined and treated before. She wanted it to end, and she wanted it to never end.

“Take this one for me, Shelby.”

“Yes.”

With one hand on the small of her back, he forced her to stick out her rear even more.

She opened her eyes and saw him standing a little off to one side, rather than directly behind her.

Before her mind could complete the circuit of what he intended to do, he’d raised the belt.

None of the other punishing blows had prepared for the intensity of his sixth stroke. He caught her on the inside of her thigh. It burned in a way that made her howl.

She didn’t breathe; she sucked in air for survival. It took her a few seconds to regain control. “Six,” she managed. She gnawed on her lower lip. Using her manners was all but impossible. Still, she forced out a quiet, “Thank you.”

“You’re lovely, sub.”

His approval was all she needed. She drew strength from his tone. She concentrated on pleasing him. She wriggled around on the horse, taking care not to let her swollen clit rub against the vinyl. Despite the pain, or maybe because of it, she wanted to get off.

She dipped her back and pushed out her hips, presenting her body the way he demanded.

He finished out her punishment quickly, placing the seventh and eighth blows immediately on top of one another without giving her time to catch her breath.

“Seven. Eight!” She shuddered. “Thank you.”

“How close are you to an orgasm?”

She tried to shake her head, but the way she was positioned made it all but impossible. “I’m not thinking about coming,” she said.

He bent behind her and licked her pussy, drawing her tortured clit into his mouth.

She tried to hold on to the horse. “Please? Please, please, please?” She rocked her hips, forgetting everything and reaching for the needed release.

He inserted two fingers into her cunt and slid them back and forth.

“You may come,” he told her.

“I…” She was shameless. She all but humped his hand as he licked her, sucked her. Her buttocks burned from her beating. Her entire body felt as if it were on fire. “I’m going to come, Sir!”

He sucked her clit a little harder, then bit gently.

The tiny shock of pain was all it took. She screamed out her orgasm, her body convulsing around his fingers.

She came hard, crying out again as the wave continued.

He released the tiny nib of her clitoris but kept his fingers in place.

“I like the way you climax,” he said. “No pretensions, just a hard, fast, honest orgasm.”

“Thank you, Sir, for the orgasm.”

“I was hoping you’d remember your manners, little one.”

She was grateful for the solid support of the horse beneath her.

Shelby wasn’t sure how long it took her to recover, and she realized she wanted more, wanted him. “I want you inside me, Sir,” she said quietly. “Your cock.”

“That’s my decision.”

“Yes, Sir.” She was just trying to help it along. Her whole body was aroused, from her spanked ass to her nipples. She just wanted more. She arched her back as much as possible given the restraints, in silent invitation.

“You’re wanting another beating?”

“If Sir decides it’s necessary.”

He laughed. “Sometimes I think how innocent you seem. Then you shatter the illusion.”

He withdrew his fingers from inside her, and he didn’t immediately untie her, so she held out hope that he still intended to take her. Then she heard movement. She strained her head to see what he was doing.

“Clean my fingers,” he said, crouching next to her. He held his hand in front of her face.

She sucked his fingers into her mouth and licked her juices from them. The act was unfamiliar and strangely erotic. With the way his jeans strained around his erection, her suckling was working for him too.

He dug his left hand into her hair while she suckled. “You did well,” he told her. “Better than I might have hoped. And the way you came, so quickly, like a little pain slut who got off on her punishment. Couldn’t have taken you thirty seconds.”

She’d admitted to being a bit of a masochist, but the speed at which she orgasmed surprised even her.

“You’re hot, sub. And I’m looking forward to having you suck other things.”

She was grateful she was unable to answer. Giving oral sex wasn’t her favorite thing. It wasn’t on her “no” list. But it definitely wasn’t on her “let’s do it all the time” list.

He slowly drew away his fingers.

She gave a quick, last suck.

Her stomach clenched as she saw him tug off a battered cowboy boot. It landed on the floor with a solid, satisfying thunk. It seemed to take him forever to undress.

He moved so that he was in her view as he opened a condom and placed it on his overwhelmingly big erection.

She had a moment of doubt that she’d be able to accommodate him, but as he fingered her pussy and tweaked her nipples, she forgot how to form rational thought.

He put his hands on her hipbones and held her steady as he entered her. He slowly eased forward until he was all the way in.

She closed her eyes, and she tried to breathe as he moved, but the sensation of being taken by someone so big, so powerful, so masterful overwhelmed her.

He rode her hard, keeping her steady and then placing a hand beneath her so that he could tease her clit.

She moved as much as she could, thrashing against the horse as he penetrated her again and again.

Shelby had never been taken so forcefully before. By giving up some control, she was getting exactly what she’d craved. This man, now.

“Come,” he told her quietly.

His permission was all it took to send her over the edge.

Her body bucked as she rode the orgasm, made more powerful by his masculine thrusts.

She felt him inside her, and her vaginal walls gripped him tight. He went rigid; then his orgasm pulsed deep within her.

The way he held her, filled her, triggered another powerful climax. He dug his fingertips into her hips, and she screamed.

“I see our sub is in good hands.”

Oh God. She recognized Master Xavier’s voice. While Master Trevor had been making her come, Master Xavier had been there watching?

She wanted to wiggle away, to run away, to hide. If it were possible to die from embarrassment, she would. She was tied to a punishment horse, almost naked, her ass sticking in the air, with Master Trevor’s still-throbbing cock deep inside her damp pussy while the two doms carried on a conversation as if it were an everyday occurrence while she was losing her dignity.

She was glad, though, that her head was turned to the side and her hair was spilling across her face so that she couldn’t see Master Xavier.

Master Trevor rubbed her right thigh, as if he read her mind.

“I think it’s safe to say she survived her punishment,” her dom said.

“Destiny asked me to check in. She heard the sub’s screams and was concerned.”

“Good to know she is keeping her eye on things,” Master Trevor said. “But I’ve never misused a submissive. I don’t intend to start now.”

She didn’t hear any anger or defensiveness in the regulated tones of Master Trevor’s voice.

Her respect for him increased. He didn’t mind the club’s personnel watching or checking up on him. It meant he had nothing to hide.

“Despite her vocal capacity, Shelby doesn’t seem to be suffering overly much,” Master Xavier observed.

She suddenly wanted the floor to swallow her. If she could have hidden, she would have.

“She is a noisy one, My Liege,” Master Trevor agreed.

Was it possible to be more embarrassed? But it seemed she didn’t need to be. To the men, the doms, this seemed like a normal conversation.

She kept her mouth shut. Truthfully she wasn’t sure she could speak around the knot of humiliation about the way she was behaving.

For once, she was grateful the men were talking about her as if she were not there.

“You may want to use a gag next time, Master Trevor.”

She wanted to vanish in a small hole.

“I’ll consider it,” Master Trevor said.

“You’ll have her back in a week?” Master Xavier asked.

“Indeed.”

“Feel free to take a gag with you.”

She hadn’t heard the door open, but she heard it close quietly behind the club’s owner.

“You handled that very well,” Master Trevor told her. He pulled out of her and disposed of the condom before returning to her. “I’m going to unfasten your restraints, and I want you to move slowly until you’re sure your circulation is restored.”

He released her right wrist and massaged the area with his hand. His touch was gentle and sweet where earlier he’d been firm. The contrast in his personality intrigued her, and, oddly, made her want to please him.

“Now move your arm,” he told her.

She shrugged her right shoulder and slowly let her arm dangle.

Then he unfastened her right ankle. “Again, slow movements. A small stretch,” he said.

She did as he said while he moved around to her other side to free her left wrist. He rubbed her skin gently again. Within a minute, she was freed from her bondage. He was a considerate dom. David had never taken this kind of care with her.

“Stay there,” he said.

He crossed the room and grabbed a small tube. “Arnica,” he said, squirting a dollop onto his hand. He rubbed the salve into the areas where his belt had landed.

His touch, as much as the arnica, soothed her.

“I hope you don’t behave too well.”

She was pretty sure she wouldn’t. For all her protesting, the beating had fulfilled something inside her that had, until now, been unacknowledged.

He wiped his hands, then came over to help her from the horse. He held on to her while she regained her equilibrium.

“You really are lovely, Shelby,” he told her, smoothing a palm over her hair.

She was tempted to lean into him, but she reminded herself he was her dom, not her lover.

He moved across to the wall and grabbed her vest. He pocketed her bra, saying, “You won’t be needing this.”

She put on the vest and bolo. He stood in front of her and tightened the bolo as if it were a choker; then he gave a quick, approving nod.

This experience was totally new. After a scene, she and David went back to being friends. If she’d been dressed in a slutty way, he gave her street clothes, and they went out for a drink or a bite to eat.

Clearly, Master Trevor had no interest in that. She wondered how she’d survive the coming week.

“You have a coat?”

“At the front, yes.”

He led the way to the front desk. She wondered how red her exposed rear looked after her beating. She kept her hands at her sides and forced herself to focus on following Master Trevor rather than on her humiliated rear end.

At the front desk, Destiny raised a brow in Master Trevor’s direction.

“We’ll take Ms. Salazar’s coat.”

“Number seventy-three,” Shelby said.

“If you need anything, call me,” Destiny told Shelby.

“She’ll be fine,” Master Trevor said, intercepting the business card the other woman was offering.

“Master Trevor!”

“I’ll put it in the pocket of her coat.” His tone changed from friendly to uncompromising. “Kindly fetch it for us.”

Destiny rested her hands on her hips for a few moments.

“Unless you’d like a spanking, Destiny?”

If a woman could flounce, Destiny did. She abruptly turned and gave a scantily clad girl instructions on where to find the garment. Shelby hid her smile.

After Destiny handed over the coat, he turned his back to the woman.

With old-world manners that made Shelby feel cared for, he held the coat.

As she slid into the garment, he said, “Fasten the belt only. Leave the buttons undone.”

She opened her mouth to protest but then shut it again. There was no sense starting an argument she couldn’t win. “Yes, Sir.”

He collected his own coat, a beyond-sexy duster to match his Western outfit. With a cowboy hat, he looked every inch the outlaw.

As promised, he put Destiny’s card in Shelby’s pocket.

An outlaw who kept his promises.

He draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She could get accustomed to being treated with such kindness.

He kept a protective arm around her shoulder as he drew her outside and flagged down a taxi.

He helped her into the taxi, then slid in next to her.

Master Trevor gave the driver an address she didn’t recognize. “What about my things?” she asked.

“You won’t be needing much.”

She started to protest, but he held up a hand.

“I’ll send someone to collect your belongings tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Protest, Shelby, and you’ll sleep on the floor at the end of my bed.”

She snapped her mouth shut, and she was aware of the taxi driver watching them in the rearview mirror. She felt slightly embarrassed, but the fact he was uncompromising with her provided a small amount of comfort. She could rely on him, knew what to expect. And if he said she’d be sleeping on the floor, he damn well meant it.

Choosing intelligence rather than valor, she said, “I understand, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Like he had earlier, he draped an arm around her and drew her a little closer.

She snuggled against his warmth and strength, suddenly glad she’d capitulated. Being held by him was far more pleasant than being punished.

“How does your ass feel?” he asked against her ear.

It had felt better before he reminded her of the beating. She shifted a little. “Sore.”

“And your muscles? Cramped at all?”

“A little,” she admitted.

He nodded. “You can stretch out in the shower.”

Within twenty minutes, they arrived at his Delancey Street loft. The building was historic, imposing, commanding, much like the man himself.

When they arrived at his unit, he keyed them in. The elegance of the place stunned her. She expected something rugged. Instead, he’d surprised her with simple sophistication. He’d chosen leather furniture in clean, classic lines. The loft had distressed wood floors, hammered granite countertops, and soaring arched windows. There was a floating, carved wood staircase leading to the second floor. The beauty of the place felt at odds with the plainspoken, jeans-wearing, Marlboro-type man helping to take off her coat.

He hung up her coat and then said, “Strip.”

She blinked at the unexpected demand. “I beg your pardon?”

“Strip,” he repeated, shrugging out of his duster. “Or I’ll cut your clothes off you.”

Chapter Four

The ground seemed to shift beneath her. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. She knew, without doubt, he was serious. He wasn’t a part-time, when-it-was-convenient-and-if-she-wanted-it dom. He was a 24-7 dominant who expected the same from the woman he’d won for a week.

“Leave the bolo in place until I get you a collar.”

A collar? Surely he was joking. Surely. But his gaze betrayed nothing.

Her hands shook as she removed her vest. He held out a hand to accept it from her. He hung it near her coat.

Next she toed off her boots and bent to remove her ankle socks.

He folded his arms over his chest and watched as she unfastened the chaps and shimmied out of the leather. She picked up the chaps, and he hung them alongside her other clothing.

He glanced meaningfully at the floor, and she knelt. She spread her legs as he’d instructed, feeling more exposed at his home than she had at the club. Here it was just the two of them. No one to save her, nowhere to run.

She wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or thrilled.

“I promised you a shower,” he said. “Unless you need something to eat first?”

“I’m fine.” If her stomach weren’t in knots, she’d accept the offer if only to stall for time.

“Crawl up the stairs to the master bedroom,” he instructed.

Looking up at him, she blinked.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“No, Sir.” She was more than a little afraid of what the punishment would be if he had to repeat himself. She was learning, quickly, that this man would not compromise. She spent her entire working life negotiating deals and settlements. What she wanted—a bath and the opportunity to relax, alone in a luxurious hotel suite that she’d paid a month’s salary for—didn’t factor into his plans. It rankled. But in a way, it turned her on.

“Upstairs,” he said. “Now.”

Hyperaware of her role as a submissive—his submissive—she crawled. He followed her up the stairs, and she knew exactly how she looked with her pussy exposed as she moved up each stair.

Then, deciding to be a bit of a tease, she played it up. She swayed her hips exaggeratedly and took her time before crawling to the next stair.

“That’ll get you fucked hard, little sub.”

She wanted exactly that, she realized. The orgasm at the club was incredible. But she had a craving for him. She wanted to be fucked—hard—by him.

“I like how red your ass is,” he said. “You look as if you’ve been punished hard by your dom.”

She had been. She’d taken more punishment than she ever had in her life, and she wore the stripes as if they were a badge of honor.

His master bedroom was spacious, and a king-size bed dominated the space. Other than a couple of small accent tables, the room was empty. Three walls were brick. Each held a large, framed print, all black-and-white. The southeast side of the room was dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows. He took his time closing the blinds, seeming unconcerned that she was kneeling, naked, in the middle of the floor.

He went into the closet, and when he returned, he was naked.

At Dark Haven, she hadn’t really had the opportunity to see him this completely. He was well muscled, not an ounce of fat. And his erection was overwhelming. His cock was thick as well as long. Having him inside her sexually was one thing, but in her mouth…? She prayed he’d honor her “I don’t wanna have to suck all of that” list.

But as he moved toward her, she knew she’d have no choice.

“Sir, I…”

“Sucking my cock is on your ‘no’ list?” He asked the question matter-of-factly, as if her answer didn’t matter.

Truthfully it probably didn’t. He was the Dom; she was the sub. She could do what he wanted or suffer the consequences.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what, exactly?”

“It’s just that you’re just so big,” she blurted. “I mean, I knew, of course, I’ve seen you…but… I’ll gag.”

He laughed. “You’ll manage.”

He moved in closer and cradled the back of her head with his palm. It took all her resolve to stay put.

“Open your mouth.”

It took her a few moments to obey, but finally, she did.

“Wider.”

“I’m not sure I can open it wide enough.”

“Baby, I’ve heard you scream. You can open it wide enough.”

He brought her head forward, and she leaned in, moving toward the tip of his cock, licking the precum from the slit. She liked the taste. Surprisingly, she didn’t hate this as much as she thought she might.

He closed his eyes, and his hips jerked forward.

Emboldened, she took more of him in her mouth, pressing her tongue against that sensitive spot below his cockhead.

She wrapped a hand around his cock and began to stroke his length. He groaned. She took more of him in her mouth.

Abruptly he released her head. “Glad that’s not on your ‘no way’ list.”

She returned to her submission pose and wiped her hand across her mouth. “Uhm… Was I doing something wrong?”

“Good God, no. But I’m holding back. Restraint is good for the soul.”

He left her for a minute and returned with papers. “Medical records,” he told her.

Slightly surprised that he was so matter-of-fact, she took the paper and looked at it. “I don’t have papers,” she said. “But my medical report looks the same as yours. I practice safe sex.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

He went into the bathroom, and she heard the water running. “Get in here,” he called.

Unsure what to do, she opted for crawling.

“Right choice,” he told her.

The bathroom was as amazing as the rest of the living space. The huge space was dominated by slate and marble, and a glass sink sat on top of the counter. He’d left her a toothbrush and toothpaste.

The shower was the size of her walk-in closet at home, and the unit had two showerheads. Each was on a slide to adjust the height and had a detachable handheld head as well as independent temperature controls. There was a wooden bench in one corner with an assortment of bottles: shampoo, soap, conditioner.

The tub looked large and inviting; it was big enough to host a small party.

So even though she wasn’t in her own luxury hotel room, this wasn’t exactly suffering.

He adjusted the shower temperature, then placed two huge, fluffy towels over a heater. Nope. Definitely not suffering.

He opened the glass door, entered the shower, and said, “Join me, Shelby?”

He might have phrased the words as a question, but there was no mistaking the uncompromising tone.

She crawled across the room, then stood.

“Leave the bolo tie on the counter. I want you to put it back on as soon as you’re dry.”

She nodded and followed his instruction.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as she stepped into the warm water.

She wasn’t sure of that. Her hair was long, and on the wild and uncontrollably curly side, especially in humidity.

Her breasts were way too small, and her rear was way too big, or so she’d always thought until he’d been so appreciative of it.

Steam billowed around them and settled on the glass.

He surprised her by taking hold of her and drawing her back against him. She expected he’d want her to face him, but she liked the way he held her. His thick cock pressed against her butt. He dispensed soap from one of the bottles on the bench. He lathered the soap, then fondled her breasts, squeezed her nipples, then trailed lower, down her ribs, across her belly. After rinsing the soap from his skin, he moved his hand between her legs.

She was grateful he kept one arm around her waist to support her weight. With the way he was touching her, making her respond, she lost her ability for rational thought. He moved his fingers deftly, plumping her clit, pinching it, pulling it, teasing it, stroking it. He drove her mad with the touches. He inserted a finger deep inside her already wet cunt. “Sir, I think I’m going to come.”

“Not yet.”

“But—”

“Shelby!”

She concentrated on her breathing, trying to detach from the maddeningly dangerous thoughts of shattering in his arms. Her breaths turned into gasping pants, but still she fought off the orgasm.

Just when she was sure she couldn’t take anymore, he stopped.

It was all she could do not to stomp her foot in frustration. Instead, she said, “Thank you, Sir.”

“You really are a fast learner,” he said.

He turned her to face him.

She watched as he dispensed a small amount of clear gel across his fingertips.

“I’m going to insert one finger into you anally.”

Her mouth dried. “I… Uhm… No. That’s on my ‘not now not ever’ list.”

“Was on your ‘not now not ever’ list,” he corrected.

“Sir…”

“Trust me, Shelby. You took a beating you thought you couldn’t. If someone had told you at the beginning of the day that you’d be my sex slave for a week, you wouldn’t have believed them.”

“Still don’t,” she admitted.

“You can do anything for three minutes, can’t you?”

“Three minutes?” She looked at his eyes, then again at his hand. And she couldn’t help but notice how big his cock looked. This, whatever it was that was happening between them, made him hard. The knowledge that playing with her turned him on was enough to push her past her comfort zone.

She wanted to please this man.

“Give me three minutes,” he said. “If you’re too uncomfortable, we’ll stop. No safe word for three minutes. I will not hurt you, but I will ask for your cooperation. Don’t hold yourself stiff; don’t fight it, me, or yourself.”

Water drizzled over them, and she slowly nodded.

“After three minutes, I’ll ask you if you want to continue.”

“I won’t.”

He smoothed hair back from her face in a tender, loving way.

“Three minutes,” she said before she drowned in his eyes. “Go.”

He laughed, and the sound did strange things to her insides.

“Turn around. Face the back wall and move in a little closer to it.”

She followed his directions.

“Spread your legs a little farther apart.”

She did.

“More.”

“Your time is ticking,” she said.

“My time starts when I say,” he countered.

“How come you always get to be the boss?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Because that’s the way I like it. Face the wall.”

He moved in front of her and knelt.

Whatever she’d expected, it certainly wasn’t that.

He moved her back a little and said, “Good. Now move closer to me. Place your hands on the wall above your head.”

Slowly, hesitantly, she did. The tiles had a bumpy texture, and they weren’t slippery.

He placed one hand on the small of her back, effectively imprisoning her.

She wasn’t sure she could take him eating her cunt again. She was only human.

But that’s exactly what he did.

He swirled his tongue around her clit; then he pressed against it. He fingered her pussy as he sucked, licked, and bit her swollen flesh. He was a master at pleasing her, perfectly reading her responses.

She began to move her hips. He continued the pressure, the pleasure. It was exquisite torture.

He maneuvered so that his thumb was inside her pussy, and he had a finger against her tightest hole.

She froze.

“Three minutes,” he said against her. “Starting now.”

He moved his finger away and went back to playing with her cunt. He got her closer and closer to an orgasm; then he gently feathered a touch across her rear entrance.

She froze, but when he moved away, she relaxed again.

On his knees, he continued his relentless assault. His mouth was everywhere, sucking her labia, her clit. He moved his tongue expertly across her clit, into her pussy. The hand that wasn’t holding her prisoner seemed to be everywhere: on her butt cheeks, her stomach, parting her folds.

Her orgasm built again, and he seemed to recognize the signs. He brushed lightly against her anal whorl, then continued on without stopping.

She began to relax.

Her knees sagged under his constant movement.

She braced herself more fully on the shower wall, needing the support.

She was quickly getting lost as he built then backed away from her climax.

Even though they were in the shower, she knew she was sweating. Her calf muscles trembled.

He pressed a finger to her anus again, but instead of pulling away, he held it there. “Master Trevor!”

He removed the hand he’d wrapped around her back, leaving her free to pull away. But she was incapable of it with the way he spread her pussy lips and slid three big fingers inside her.

She rocked and jerked, seeking relief.

She looked down, seeing the top of his head as he skillfully licked her cunt.

He found her G-spot, and she jerked, rising onto her tiptoes and silently inviting him deeper as she reached for her orgasm. “Sir!”

He eased his finger into her ass.

She whimpered as the climax engulfed her.

She’d been helpless to resist, despite the fact he hadn’t given permission and it meant she might be punished.

But instead of pulling away from her, he continued. Unbelievably a second orgasm built deep inside.

She was lost in a dozen nerve-tingling sensations. Then her body seemed to freeze momentarily. He thrust fingers in and out of her pussy and her rear. She was no longer saying no; she was enjoying the intensity. Being stretched wide by him was amazing. She’d never felt anything like it. Overcome, she squeezed her eyes shut and thrust her hips, setting the pace that she wanted for him to lick her.

She all but fucked his mouth. He pressed his thumb against her clit, and she screamed out the most powerful orgasm of her life.

She lost her grip on the wall, but he was there to hold her, keep her safe. He supported her, and she placed her hands on top of his head.

In that instant she realized she trusted him, trusted him completely. The scene at Dark Haven would have been impossible with any other dom. Anal penetration would have been impossible without him reading her reactions so completely and accurately.

What the hell was she getting herself into? “Thank you,” she said, remembering her manners, barely.

He eased his fingers from inside her body and stood. He cupped her buttocks in his palms, digging his fingers into her flesh and holding her so tight she couldn’t squirm away.

“Tell me what you’re thanking me for.”

He’d gone from gentle but insistent lover to dominant, unrelenting male in less than a handful of seconds.

“For the orgasms.”

“And?”

“For your patience as you…”

He waited. The man was overwhelming. Tall. Broad. Dark hair damp from the shower’s spray. And his gaze was totally focused on her.

She tried again, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than her honesty. “For your patience as you put your finger up my ass.”

“Tell me about the experience.”

Her entire body was heated, and she wanted to change the conversation. She knew better, though, than to refuse to answer. “It was sexy.”

He waited.

She sighed. “It made my orgasm more intense.”

“You’ll beg me to do it again?”

She lowered her head. Wet hair clung to her face. “Yes.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

She tipped back her head. Did he ever show mercy? This experience with him astounded her. Her whole life, she’d been in control of everything. As far back as elementary school, when there had been trouble on the playground, she’d been the peacekeeper, helping all sides learn to take turns and share. No matter what anyone wanted, she’d always been in the middle, helping everyone get pieces of what they wanted. Now she was questioning her entire approach. This man, with his arms folded, won’t-take-no-or-maybe-for-an-answer stance, had given her experiences she would have never otherwise had. “Yes,” she admitted, looking at him, refusing to hide. “Yes, I’ll beg you to fuck my ass with your finger, Sir.”

He nodded. “Not everything is as terrifying as you’ve made it in your mind. I only have one more thing for you right now.”

More? A beating and having a finger up her anus wasn’t enough? What else did he want? Her unconditional surrender? And if he demanded it, was she capable of giving it?

“Put your right foot on that bench, sub.”

Slowly she moved into position. Christ, she was wonderful.

Since he generally only played with experienced women, he’d never experienced this type of mutual discovery. Seeing her metamorphosis enchanted him. She’d been terrified, but curious, about his punishment. The expression on her face when she’d asked him to refasten her bonds after she’d overreacted to the first stroke of his belt had undone him. Her face had been flushed, her eyes wide open, her lips slightly parted. Despite her fear, her pussy had been wet. She could have run, but she’d chosen not to.

She’d done everything he asked of her, including sucking his cock. He’d admired the way she fought her embarrassment in the cab, as she’d crawled up the stairs, and now, as he forced her to admit she’d liked his finger up her rear.

He lathered soap and spread it across her pubic area.

“Sir?”

“I’m shaving off your pubic hair.” He looked at her. “Any objection?” She would shock them both if she didn’t voice at least some concern.

She blinked several times as if trying to decide whether to protest or not.

“Why?”

“Because I want to. Because I don’t want you hiding. Because it pleases me.”

He saw, rather than heard, her exhalation.

“If you say so, Sir.”

She’d done it—shocked them both.

He bent and took up a razor. With a few quick strokes, he shaved off the majority of her hair. Then he more carefully held each labia and drew the razor gently across the tender flesh. “Perfect,” he said when he was done.

“I—”

“Thank you, Sir,” he coached, interrupting.

“Thank you, Sir, for shaving my pussy.”

He couldn’t resist. He put down the razor, dug his hands into her long hair, and drew her toward him.

He claimed her mouth in a deep, long, passionate kiss, using his tongue to simulate the way he was going to fuck her.

She responded perfectly, leaning into him. He supported her weight, and he reached around them to turn off each showerhead.

He reluctantly ended the kiss and opened the door to grab a towel. He dried her while she stood there, innocently seductive. His cock throbbed incessantly. Trevor had restrained himself for several hours, keeping his libido in check even though he’d brought her off numerous times. He towel dried her hair, then said, “When I enter the bedroom, I want to find you bent over the bed, your breasts on the mattress, with your hands behind you, holding your ass cheeks apart.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He used the same towel to dry his body as he watched her put the bolo tie back on and then smooth her hair into some semblance of control. She might as well not bother. He intended to have it a mess in under five minutes.

Without being told, she lowered herself to her hands and knees.

He’d made his point about control, and he was more than willing to let her walk. But damn, she looked so sexy with her hips swaying and a few droplets of water clinging to her naked body that he decided to tell her later she no longer had to crawl unless given specific instruction to do so.

He stroked his cock as he watched her. Then, feeling the telltale tightening of his muscles, he squeezed the base of his penis, hard.

A few moments later, he grabbed a condom from a drawer and went into the bedroom.

She had pulled back the comforter and followed his instructions perfectly.

Her ample rear was displayed beautifully, and she held the buttocks apart as he wanted. The splash of crimson paint on her manicured fingernails was a stunning, stark contrast to her dark skin.

As he looked at her, willingly spread and waiting for him and with the bolo tight around her throat, his cock lengthened again. His body definitely wasn’t impressed by his attempts to hold back an orgasm.

He loved the sight of her from the back. He might never take her any other way. Earlier she’d been punished for not showing her ass when he demanded. Since then, he’d had a finger inside her, and now she was holding her buttocks apart for him.

Anxious to claim her as his again, he ripped the wrapper from the condom, then rolled the latex down his length.

He knelt behind her and licked her freshly shaved pussy, making sure she was completely aroused before he penetrated her.

“Oh, Sir!”

“Hang on,” he told her. He inserted a finger inside her tightness and found her wet. “You are a good little sub.”

“I want you, Sir.”

After standing, he guided his cockhead to the entrance of her pussy.

She moved back a little to meet him.

He guided her back where he wanted her, tilting her hips forward as he said, “Keep still, sub.”

“But…”

He sighed. “You’re the sub; I’m the Dom, Shelby. Any questions?”

She looked over her shoulder at him through her veil of damp hair. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

If she had any idea how hard it was for him to keep from taking her and ejaculating in a single stroke… “Keep yourself in position. Ass spread.”

He dug one hand into her hair, holding her imprisoned. He used his other hand to guide his cock to her opening. When he was balls-deep, he reached over to a side table and squirted some lube onto his right index finger. “I’m going to put a finger in your ass while I fuck you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

Perfect. His.

He held her hair, rode her hard. He not only inserted two fingers, he kept them there. Then when she accommodated him, he withdrew them and reinserted them in simultaneous rhythm with his cock.

“This is the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. You were right.”

If she remembered those words, she’d get herself out of a lot of trouble in the future.

He removed his hand from her hair so he could tease her clit. The woman was utterly responsive.

“Sir…? May I…?” She gasped.

“You may come, sub.” He wanted her to come before him, and truthfully he didn’t know how much longer he could last with the way her internal muscles milked and squeezed him.

Her climax was powerful, and it dragged a response straight from his balls. He ejaculated deep inside her.

He held her for a couple of minutes, because he wanted to. It was nice having a woman—her—here. “You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“Not on the floor?” she teased.

“Watch your step, sub.”

He left her long enough to discard the condom and return with a warm, damp washcloth for her.

“May I borrow a shirt?” she asked while he smoothed the cotton cloth between her legs.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“I’m allowed no clothes?”

He wadded the washcloth and tossed it back into the bathroom. “I’m the dom,” he said.

“And I’m the sub,” she finished. “And you’ll tell me when I can wear clothes. And that’s just the way it is.”

“You’re wanting a spanking?” He’d be more than happy to accommodate her.

“Just trying to be agreeable, Sir.”

He climbed into bed and pulled her against him. He helped her remove the bolo tie and then tucked the sheets around her shoulders. “Tomorrow, sub, a butt plug. And that’s just the way it is. I know how you want to be agreeable.”

Chapter Five

The whole being-a-good-sub thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

As she’d snuggled in his arms beneath a pile of blankets last night, safe, secure, and content, behaving seemed simple. She’d wanted nothing more than to be a pleasing submissive.

She’d woken up alone in the huge bed, determined to be agreeable. She knew she was fortunate he’d let her sleep late instead of dragging her from beneath the covers to make his breakfast.

He’d been more than generous as a lover. His aftercare following the beating had been exquisite. And the beating really hadn’t been much, she knew, as far as punishments went. He hadn’t left behind a single welt, and her skin wasn’t red in the least. She’d checked.

And last night had been amazing. She knew he’d been with experienced submissives and had high demands, but he’d been tolerant of her missteps. The way he’d kissed her had made her legs weak. She’d never been with anyone who affected her as he did.

But she found she was feeling rather disagreeable when she entered the master bathroom to find her bolo tie, alongside a note and a stainless steel butt plug on the countertop next to a bottle of lube.

His instructions were straightforward. Replace the bolo, and make it tight. They’d shop for a collar soon. Then lubricate a finger and insert it in her anus. Slide the finger in and out several times until she was slippery. Finally, lubricate the plug and insert it and join him downstairs.

She’d replaced the tie. That was easy. It was sexy. It reminded her she was his sub for the week.

But the plug… That too was a sign of her submission, but it was far more difficult.

For at least the tenth time, she picked up the plug and turned it around. She had to admit that the offending toy was as big as it could have been, and it was beautiful, at least compared to the plastic ones she’d seen at her favorite adult toy store.

Its base was adorned with dozens of sparkling pink crystals. Since it was made of steel, it weighed a fair amount. There’d be no doubt she would know it was inside her.

“Stalling?” he asked.

She startled, dropping the plug. It clattered against the slate countertop. He was lazing against the doorjamb. She wondered how long he’d been there, watching her.

“I… Uh…” She had no excuse.

“Did you try?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Bend over.”

Crap. But she knew she wouldn’t escape him. More stalling would only make it worse.

She grabbed her ankles.

“Bend your knees a bit for balance,” he said as he pushed away from the doorjamb.

She knew this couldn’t be good.

He smacked her right butt cheek openhandedly. She gasped and forced herself to remain still. The single spank shouldn’t have surprised her. Convention more or less required him to punish her when she misbehaved.

“This plug will be in your ass in less than twenty seconds. Any questions?”

“Who’s doing it?”

“I am,” he said. “And you’ll express your gratitude.”

She waited, aware of each of his motions as he lubricated a finger and then the plug. He didn’t bother with preliminaries. He just slowly and gently entered her with his finger, taking time to stretch her opening slightly. Then, when she was prepared, he inserted the plug, driving it all the way in with a slight pop. He pulled back on it slightly before saying, “Done.”

He was right; it had taken less than twenty seconds. And she’d spent more than ten minutes fretting.

He turned her so that she was positioned between two mirrors and could see the sparkle from the plug’s jewels.

Even she was surprised by how nice it looked, and how she barely noticed it in her. “Thank you for the butt plug, Sir.”

“Not everything has to be a struggle,” he told her, not for the first time, as he helped her to stand. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Shower and meet me downstairs for breakfast. Skip the clothes. No more crawling unless ordered to, because I fancy watching you move.”

She nodded.

She showered and did her best to tame her hair with a brush and the hair dryer she found in a cabinet.

She walked down the staircase, appreciating its carved elegance more now in the daylight than she had last night. The color was a luxurious honey brown, and the way it curled around was beautiful.

He’d closed the blinds that were closest to floor level and left the others open. Rain drizzled against the windowpanes, but heated air spilled from the vents in the loft. He’d been busy. A plate of eggs and bacon sat on the table, and, lucky day, there was also fresh-squeezed orange juice in a glass and a steaming cup of coffee on the table.

But it was her dom who made her heart trip.

He wore tight jeans and a black T-shirt that emphasized his chest and muscular arms. Life could be much worse.

He stood when she neared the table. He waited until she was seated before he took his chair again. She thought she might swoon from his old-world manners.

He was right; her life would be much easier, much more pleasant, if she’d stop fighting him.

“Eat up,” he told her. “You’ll need the sustenance.”

As soon as they’d loaded the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher, he ordered her back to bed. “And crawl,” he said. “I want to see that butt bling.”

He watched from the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, yeah,” he said with a low, appreciative whistle.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t self-conscious. She felt secure and confident in her body. If she were honest, she’d also admit she felt sexy as hell each time that small piece of steel moved inside her.

He followed a few steps behind her.

She knew she could stand when she reached the top of the stairs, but she stayed on all fours. If he wanted to appreciate the plug, she’d oblige him. She continued to crawl into his bedroom.

“Lie down on the bed,” he told her. “On your back.”

Good thing she hadn’t wasted time making it earlier.

“Arms above your head, sub.”

She curled her fingers around the headboard and watched as he stripped. His muscles were gorgeous; his arms were ripped, his legs solid and strong.

He momentarily vanished into the closet. When he came back, he was wearing a condom and his left hand was closed in a fist.

“I’ll be honest; it was all I could do to make it through breakfast,” he told her, kneeling on the mattress. “Having you across from me, naked, sitting on a plug. Count yourself lucky you got to eat.”

He leaned over her and alternately sucked on each nipple, drawing them one at a time into his mouth and making them into tight little buds.

He raised up and opened his hand, revealing a pair of vicious-looking nipple clamps attached by a length of metal chain.

She pressed her lips together, determined not to ruin the moment by arguing. Her eyes were wide, though, as she watched him, and her stomach tightened into a furious knot of fear.

“You’ve admitted to being a bit of a masochist,” he said.

She decided silence was the better part of valor.

“I’m starting you with tweezer clamps,” he said. “We can adjust the pressure so it’s not too tight to begin with. And they won’t accidentally come off, which could hurt.”

As if putting them on won’t?

He captured her right breast in his left hand and stroked the pad of his thumb over her nipple again until it peaked. “Keep breathing,” he told her.

He placed the clamp then adjusted the tension until she inhaled sharply. He tugged on the metal, ensuring it was in place.

“You survived it.”

She nodded.

He repeated the process with her other nipple, securing the clamp firmly on the flesh.

Then he wrapped the chain around a finger and tugged.

She arched and gasped, and her insides moistened.

He trailed a finger between her legs. “Definitely a bit of a masochist,” he said.

“If you don’t screw me hard, I might die.” She spread her legs farther apart, arching her back in silent invitation.

He took her in a single thrust.

She gasped, not just from the size of him, but from the exquisite tightness of the fit caused by the plug and the combined pleasure and pain from the nipple clamps. “Oh my God.”

“A little more trust, sub.”

He released his grip on the chain and cradled her head in his palms. She forced herself to hold on to the headboard as the weight of his powerful chest crushed her breasts. He drove into her again and again, some strokes long and slow, others short and powerful. The variety of his movements made her thoughts crash into each other. The clamps intensified the pressure of his body on hers, and she writhed beneath him.

Her orgasm overtook her unexpectedly, and she moved her hips quickly, greedily taking her pleasure. Lost in sensation, she came without asking permission.

As soon as her internal world stopped spinning, she realized he was braced on his elbows. His palms were still pressed against her cheeks as he looked down at her. His steel blue eyes were darker than normal, maybe because the sky outside was stormy gray. She licked her lower lip. “I’m sorry, Master Trevor. The plug… The clamps… Your cock… I’m afraid I lost control.”

“We’ll let that one go,” he said.

He feathered hair back from her face and began to move inside her again.

She concentrated on his pleasure, what he wanted. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She moved with him, following his unspoken guidance.

She realized she liked this, having him inside her, the way he filled her, the way he dominated her.

His body forced hers deeper into the mattress, and his orgasm rocked her as much as it did him.

“Rest,” he told her after removing her clamps. “I’ve got some work to do.”

She didn’t think she was sleepy, but the next thing she knew, an hour had passed. The plug was uncomfortable. And she didn’t want to remove it unless he said it was okay.

She noticed that her suitcase stood in the corner of the room. True to his word, he must have sent someone to fetch it.

She was uncertain what to do. She still wasn’t entirely at ease with her nudity, but having her suitcase there didn’t mean she had permission to get dressed. She was vain enough, though, to give up a month’s salary, for access to her makeup kit.

She brushed her teeth and tried to tame her hair in the bathroom mirror before going in search of Master Trevor.

She found him in his first-floor office, his fingers moving across a keyboard. He had two monitors, and one of them was the size of a small movie theater screen. She recognized a picture of David’s law offices.

She knew a good sub would kneel and patiently wait for her dom’s attention. But curiosity overcame her desire to behave.

Silently she moved into the room.

On the smaller monitor, she saw an e-mail he was composing. To someone inside his company? She shamelessly read as he typed out instructions for the recipient to schedule an appointment with David as soon as possible.

He hit Send, then sat back and folded his hands behind his head. “I know you’re there, sub. And you’d better hope you have a good explanation for your inappropriate behavior.”

Her heart thundered in her ears. She knew what she was supposed to do, but she couldn’t force herself to do it. Instead, she walked across the room and kissed the top of his head. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Why are you not on your knees?”

“Because I wanted to thank you.”

“I would have done this regardless of you,” he said, swiveling in his seat.

Their gazes met. Would he have?

“I still… Thank you.”

“It’s a worthy project. Master David does excellent work.”

“So do you, Sir. That’s why he wanted you. I know he tried to get at least one appointment, maybe more. Apparently you’re a difficult man to reach.”

“We get a lot of requests to help. We select several projects a year. This one just happened to reach the top of the list.”

“You are very generous, Sir.”

“And you’re an ill-mannered sub.”

He said the words without any heat.

Deliriously happy, no matter what his motivation, she grinned, her nerves vanquished by his actions. “Yes, Sir. Apparently I am. Very badly behaved.”

He pushed back his chair and said, “Across my lap to accept your punishment for not getting on your knees instantly and for reading my private e-mail.”

“Happily,” she said. She was grateful he hadn’t asked her to apologize or made her promise not to read his e-mail in the future. The truth was, if the situation repeated itself, she would behave exactly the same way again, shamelessly.

“A little bit of Machiavelli in you?” he asked.

“A whole lot,” she admitted, lowering herself across Master Trevor’s lap. If she hadn’t snooped, she wouldn’t have realized how wonderful he was, and she wouldn’t have realized how much she was falling for him.

Reckless, annoying sub. He sighed as she wriggled her pert little ass and stuck it high for his punishment.

He flattened one palm on the small of her back to hold her in place, not that he needed to. She’d all but asked for this spanking.

With his open hand, he spanked her hard half a dozen times, torturing each of her buttocks and even landing one on her heated pussy.

Vixen. Her pussy was damp from his hand.

She counted the spanks and thanked him for each. She didn’t fight or squirm—well, just enough to turn him on.

He tugged on the plug. She merely groaned and rubbed her pelvis against his thigh.

His hand was going to wear out before her rear ever did. He’d have to remember to always have a belt or flogger handy.

“Is Sir going to use me now?”

His cock was hard. With the way she was spread across his lap, she knew that. This sub, with her honest reactions, brought him to life emotionally in a way no other woman ever had. “That was punishment, sub, not foreplay.”

Suggestively she ground herself against his jean-clad leg. “Are you certain you don’t want to take advantage of your helpless sub?”

Helpless? Hardly. “Keep it up, Shelby, and you won’t get any more beatings.”

“Now Sir is just being mean.”

He laughed and helped her to her feet. “Get dressed. Skirt, shirt, heels. Nothing else.”

“Sir?” She rubbed her delectably reddened rear.

If he couldn’t take her out in the chaps she’d worn to Dark Haven, a skirt with no underwear was a good alternative. She had the most perfect, spankable ass, and he wanted access to it. “Ten minutes,” he told her. “We’re going to buy you a collar.” The bolo had been suitable when there was no other option. But she couldn’t shower with it or sleep in it. He wanted the mark of his temporary ownership obvious.

“I was going to ask, Sir, if I could remove the plug?”

He arched a brow. “Because?”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“Ah. So your comfort is the most important thing?”

She opened her mouth, then wisely shut it again. “I’ll leave it in place, Sir.”

“Nine minutes, Shelby.”

She hurried up the stairs, and he watched her go. The idea of her being totally aware of that plug, that he’d put it there because he wanted it inside her, turned him on.

He’d been a dom for a lot of years, and he’d issued a number of orders before. But he’d never enjoyed it quite as much as he was with the not-so-submissive Shelby. Watching her responses made his gut tighten. She wanted to please him. She was sexy and sensual and completely unaware of her hold on him.

He heard water running, and he heard the sound of her footsteps. Having her in his home—bad behavior and all—made the place seem less vast. He’d bought this place for its wide-open spaces. He’d remodeled it to suit his tastes, masculine lines and textures, but until now, he hadn’t realized he had been missing companionship.

He returned to his computer to respond to a couple of e-mails. A picture of a house he’d remodeled was on the main monitor. He’d rather have a picture of her rear, snuggled by those chaps, for a screen saver. Then again, he’d spend all his time jacking off instead of getting work done.

He was waiting by the door when she came down the stairs eleven minutes later. It would be fun to punish her tardiness later.

But as he took a look at her, he couldn’t help his long, slow, appreciative whistle.

She’d followed his directions perfectly. She wore a black skirt, a black button-down shirt, and ridiculously high heels.

He’d bet big money she didn’t wear that skirt to work. It rose well above the knee. It was decent, but barely.

She moved slowly, in deference, he imagined, to the heels and the plug. She probably didn’t realize that her ultrafeminine movements were the stuff of fantasy.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she smiled before bowing her head. Then she shocked him by kneeling.

Christ. Could she be any more perfect?

“Sir?”

“Speak, sub.” If she had any idea what she was doing to his libido…

“Um…”

“No prevarication,” he snapped. “If you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m…” She hesitated. She stammered, licked her lip. “Horny. Sir. The spanking…”

He struggled to suppress his smile. “And you’d like me to do something about that?”

“I thought about doing it myself, but I figured I’d be punished for that.”

“You’re right.” He crossed over to her and crouched. She looked up momentarily before obviously realizing her faux pas and casting her gaze down at the floor.

He reached beneath her scandalously short skirt and slid his index finger between her legs.

Her pussy was warm and wet.

Her hardened nipples pushed against the silkiness of her blouse. He’d love to see those little brown tips squeezed by clamps.

Earlier he’d wondered if she could be any more perfect. He had his answer. Yes. She continued to get more and more perfect.

He moved his finger across her swollen clitoris.

She whimpered and moved against his hand.

He slid a couple of fingers inside her.

“Oh, Sir!”

He smelled her soap and lotion and carnal desire. “You can come, little sub,” he told her as he pressed his thumb against her clit.

She moaned and jerked, her shoulders falling forward. She shuddered as she cried out her climax.

He held her until her breathing returned to normal.

Then he removed his hand and offered her his fingers to clean.

She did, sucking his fingers into her mouth. Lovingly. Thoroughly.

If they didn’t get out of the house soon, he would be buried deep inside her.

“You were right, Sir, about the plug. But this constant horniness…”

“I like you that way.” And he’d keep her satisfied.

She licked her lips. “Thank you.”

“I was hoping you’d forget your manners.”

“So you can punish me?”

“Yeah. So I can punish you.”

She shivered delicately.

“Time for your collar.”

He helped her to stand. If they didn’t get out of her soon, they might never leave at all. He opened the door. “Precede me.”

“Sir?”

“Must I repeat my command?”

She exited the loft and led the way to the elevator.

He held the front door for her. While he generally preferred his subs to follow him respectfully, he liked watching the sway of her hips. Or maybe he maybe he was part masochist and enjoyed torturing himself. Why else would he spank her, bring her off, and keep his raging hard-on confined behind denim?

“We’re only a few blocks from the shop. Will your feet be okay if we walk?”

“As long as we don’t walk too fast.”

“You can set the pace.” The slower the better. “Go down to the corner and turn left.”

She led the way; he followed.

His cock pressed against his jeans. Maybe leaving the house without relieving himself hadn’t been such a good idea.

Five excruciating minutes later, they reached the jewelry store. “We’re here,” he said.

“This place?” she asked.

The discreet storefront gave no idea of the treasures inside. Each piece of jewelry was handcrafted, beautiful, and suitable for couples with unique tastes. The boutique carried everything from nipple and scrotum clamps to clitoral jewels to collars to glass and metal butt plugs.

With his fingers pressed against the small of her back, he guided her toward the collars. “Metal,” he told the woman behind the counter. “Sterling, I think.”

The middle-aged woman unlocked a glass cabinet and pulled out a tray.

“Seriously?” Shelby whispered.

“Seriously?”

“You’re picking out a collar, and she acts like it’s an everyday occurrence?”

“It is.” He picked up one and held it near her. He frowned. “Too thick, I think.”

The woman accepted it back, and he selected another one. It wasn’t as thick, but it was ornate, with an etched design. Maybe too much?

“What do you think?” he asked, looking at the clerk.

Shelby opened her mouth. “I think—”

“Not you,” he said, cutting her off. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Still a bit much,” the woman said.

He nodded.

“Why don’t you look at these?” She pulled out another tray, this time from the bottom shelf.

He selected a plain silver choker, slim and delicate. This, he was sure, would lie beautifully against her skin. And remind her who she belonged to for the week.

“Much better,” the other woman said.

“You’ll look lovely in this,” he told Shelby. “And nothing else. Well, maybe those stilettos.”

Shelby turned several shades of pink. Exquisite.

“Please wrap it up,” he told the clerk. “I’ll put it on you at home, sub.”

“Certainly, sir.” The clerk didn’t even blink.

“But, Sir,” Shelby said, “it costs more than my car payment!”

“And worth every penny.”

Shelby kept glancing at the floor, as if she wished it would swallow her whole.

The walk back home seemed to take twice as long as the walk to the shop. If they didn’t make it soon, he’d have her against the brick wall of one of San Francisco’s gentrified buildings.

Finally, back inside the loft, he locked the door and said, “Strip.”

“Shoes?”

“Leave them on. Seems I have a thing for stilettos.”

She complied but took her sweet time doing so.

His cock was throbbing by the time she was kneeling naked in his entryway. Having to maintain some sort of decorum with her gnawed at the little patience he had.

He removed the collar from the bag and said, “Lift up your hair.”

She did, giving him access to her neck.

“Since we only have a week together, this isn’t an official collaring. It’s just a reminder that you’ll be the perfect sub while we’re together.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He snapped the collar in place and then slipped a finger beneath it to check the fit. He ratcheted it a notch tighter.

He stepped away, and she allowed her dark hair to fall.

He helped her to stand, then drew her to a mirror. “What do you think?”

“I—”

“Do not be critical of yourself,” he said. “Tell me what you think of the collar.”

In the mirror, their gazes met. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, honest. “It’s sexy.”

“Upstairs,” he said, the word hoarse.

“Yes, Sir.”

She crawled up the stairs, exaggerating her movements.

He grinned.

Taking her was going to be a treat.

“Bend over the bed,” he said, following her into the bedroom. “Spread your butt cheeks. I’m going to take out that plug and then fuck your ass.”

A dozen different feelings warred inside Shelby: desire, fear, want, embarrassment, need.

She’d been out in public in an indecently short skirt and all but ignored as her dom and a stranger selected a collar that she had no say in.

She was completely aware of its metal presence around her neck. It was tight enough that it didn’t move around, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. There was no doubt it was there, though. He’d chosen well, even though he didn’t consult her.

Her rear was still a bit warm from the spankings he’d given her in his office. And since there was a small amount of fear bubbling inside, her pussy wasn’t as damp as it had been.

She’d gotten over her distaste of having a plug in her anus, but it wasn’t close to the same thing as having a penis—a damn fucking big penis—up there.

She bent over the bed.

He took hold of her torso and repositioned her slightly. “Breasts right there,” he said, his hand between her shoulder blades so there was no doubt where he wanted her body. “Don’t move.”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled into the mattress.

“Arch your back.”

He tapped her lower back.

She arched.

“Now spread your butt cheeks.”

Her whole body trembled, and her hands shook as she reached back.

“Turn your feet a bit inward.”

Fighting her instinct to run away, she followed his direction.

“When you return to Dark Haven, I’ll expect you to behave like this. I want you to show David you’ve learned to behave like a proper sub.”

Before she could respond, he pulled out her butt plug.

Her insides clenched, and she yelped.

“And you’ll stop with your overreactions,” he said sharply. He slapped her right thigh.

She bit her lower lip to keep from screaming again.

“Am I clear?”

A good sub would answer quickly and be genuine in her reactions. She was trying to be a good sub…trying. “Yes, Sir.”

It felt good to be empty, but she knew it wouldn’t last long.

She heard movements, and she figured he was undressing. But, damn him, he forced her to remain in position, her body held wide-open for him.

She heard another sound, like the ripping of the condom package, followed a few seconds later by a liquid sound, perhaps the bottle of lube.

Shelby squeezed her eyes shut, imagining him pumping his thick cock in his hand as he lubricated himself to enter her.

Surprisingly, her pussy was starting to moisten, maybe from the slap, maybe from his commanding tone of voice.

She responded to his torture as if born for it.

She felt his cockhead against the entrance to her rear hole. She tensed. He smacked the outside of her left thigh. She gasped, then managed, “Could we just try it a different way? A different time?”

“Not a negotiation,” he said. “Bear down against my cock.”

“I can’t!”

“My cock is going in your ass,” he said with more patience than she expected. “And it can take a few seconds, or it can take an hour with your bad behavior. Your choice. Submit gracefully, Shelby, or I’ll gag you.”

He smacked the outside of her butt hard. She screamed and wiggled, and he took advantage of her distraction to push in completely.

She ground her body into the mattress, desperate to get away.

“Really, Shelby?” He grabbed her hips and dragged her back into position. “Stay still.”

He slid something beneath her clit, and a robust buzzing electrified her.

She moaned and wriggled. “Sir?”

“It’s a shaped vibrator,” he said.

“It’s…” She could barely think. Fantastic. Intense. Fabulous. Sensation after sensation zinged through her.

Her pelvis moved and jerked.

He began to move in her, thrusting in and out.

Once she stopped struggling and relaxed, an amazing orgasm began to build in her. The vibrator buzzed against her pussy as he filled her ass.

Sensations blazed through her. “Sir!”

“Come,” he ordered.

His word was all it took. She shook and pulsed as the vibrator continued to rocket her clit. She shouted his name and rose up onto her toes. Her legs trembled, and moments later, she felt the undeniable pulse of his cock as he ejaculated.

“Please,” she begged. “Can I move the vibrator?” Her entire body buzzed with small aftershocks.

He reached beneath her as his penis began to go flaccid.

“Mercy?” he asked, his voice tender.

“I can’t take much more,” she admitted. “But I have to say I liked your cock in my rear.”

“Lots more you could like if you’d let yourself go.” He kissed the side of her neck, just above the collar.

At that moment she was completely content.

“I’ll send out for lunch. You’ll need your strength.”

Master Trevor—her dom—withdrew his penis. Her ass throbbed from being stretched and abused, but it wasn’t a bad feeling.

Shoes still on, she crawled up on the mattress. She’d about fallen asleep when he returned with a damp washcloth.

If this was submission, it wasn’t all bad. He cared for her, cleaned her, took off her shoes, and then tucked a sheet around her naked body.

Shelby wasn’t sure how she’d deal with her normal life after this. Regular sex would never again be intense enough, she was certain of it. Maybe she could see him on her irregular trips to San Francisco.

That thought didn’t soothe her; it just made her more frustrated.

Chapter Six

“More training?” she asked. “Now?”

“More whining?” Trevor countered, folding his arms across his chest.

Even though they were in the kitchen, and she was up to her forearms in soapy water, she pulled her hands out of the water and grabbed a dishtowel. She turned to face him, and she was drying her hands even as she sank to her knees.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was unforgivable. I deserve to be spanked.”

“You certainly do deserve to be punished.” He stood there, looking at her.

Over the past days, her movements had become more fluid. Because he’d made her rise and kneel repeatedly several dozen times a day, she’d become proficient.

Now if he could just get rid of her momentary rebellions… He’d intentionally bothered her just then, at the end of the day, when she’d had a long day, after he’d used her hard, her cunt, her ass, and her mouth. She needed to respond perfectly, no matter what kind of stress she was feeling. “We’ve talked about this, Shelby. Being a good sub is about how you behave all the time, not just when it suits you.”

“I beg Sir’s pardon.”

“Back to your dishes,” he told her.

To her credit, she didn’t look up; she didn’t argue. She didn’t try to negotiate with him.

They had little time left together. In their remaining days, he wanted her to learn everything she could, wanted her to experience as much as possible. He wanted to show David what a perfect little sub she was, wanted everyone at Dark Haven to see her progress.

She returned to the dishes, and he leaned against a countertop and watched her. That was no hardship. They’d had a lovely dinner with candlelight and wine. She’d worn a skirt and a blouse with only a couple of buttons fastened.

He told her to strip before performing her chores.

Her butt moved enticingly as she used a cloth to wash the inside of the wine goblets.

“How about watching a movie?” he suggested when she’d finished and rinsed and dried the sink.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

She followed him to the great room. He grabbed the TV remote and then pointed at the floor. “You may kneel during the movie.”

She cast her gaze down and lowered herself to the distressed hardwood floor.

He left her there for almost the entire movie, then said, “Go to bed.”

She said nothing, but he sensed her confusion. He knew she’d rather have a spanking, preferably followed by good, down and dirty sex. But he was willing to bet that ignoring her would be far more effective for her learning than corporal punishment.

He checked e-mail, looked at a couple of proposals his sales staff had put together, poured himself a shot of whiskey, neat, and sipped it as he looked out into the dark San Francisco night.

He was intentionally killing time, staying away from her.

And it wasn’t easy. He heard the soft sounds of her movements upstairs, and he wanted her. He too would prefer to spank her and screw her, exhausting both of them. He liked having her in his bed, squirming across his lap as his hand landed on her soft, spankable rear end. The house, his life, would be empty when she left.

He went upstairs about an hour later. She was freshly showered, completely naked, totally appealing, and wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

He joined her on the bed and drew the covers over both of them before reaching for her and pulling her into his arms, her feminine curves fitting against his hardened body.

As he cradled her, he ran a finger over her sterling silver collar…a mark of his temporary domination.

“Lesson learned, Sir. I’m sorry,” she said as she snuggled against him.

He kissed the top of her head and said nothing.

Last night, Master Trevor had uncovered the most effective form of punishment.

Until now, Shelby hadn’t realized how much she hated being ignored. Spankings and intense sex, she enjoyed. But being ignored? She’d do almost anything to avoid that.

Today, so far, he’d interrupted her activities half a dozen times. And she had instantly obeyed him. But he’d barely touched her, and it was their last evening together.

She stood in the shower, the steam billowing around her, thinking how desperate she was for sex or a spanking, anything to feel a connection with him. If she were honest, she was moping.

She’d washed her hair, but she hadn’t gotten around to shaving yet when he entered the bathroom and opened the shower door. Her heart momentarily stopped. His brows were drawn together in a frown. It didn’t appear he planned to join her. “Sir?”

“You’re getting out of the shower,” he said, “and showing me how nicely groomed your pubic hair is.”

She gulped. Surely he realized she’d only been in the shower a few minutes. But, really, she’d had enough time to take care of essentials, if she hadn’t been brooding. She turned off the water and exited the shower. She lowered herself, dripping wet, onto a towel he laid on the floor.

“All fours,” he said. “Arch your back, spread your ass cheeks.”

She complied, but slowly. This wasn’t going to go well for her.

He crouched behind her and used his fingers to feel her labia and her anal area. Droplets of water clung to her skin, and her body was cooling fast. Part of that, she knew, was from the sudden onset of nerves.

He took his time running his fingers back and forth. It took all her self-control to remain still and not move her neglected pussy against his hand.

“You haven’t shaved today.”

“No, Sir.”

“Get back in that shower and finish up. I will find you in the bedroom, on all fours with my belt in your mouth in less than five minutes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She was grinning, not shaking from nerves, as she got back in the shower. She shaved carefully, glad she would finally be getting her spanking, glad he hadn’t decided to put her on her knees and ignore her for the rest of the evening.

She was aware of every passing moment, and it took her less than five minutes to finish up, dry off, towel her hair and fluff her tresses. She was absolutely determined not to annoy him again.

She heard him on the stairs when she entered the bedroom. She hurried to the closet, snatched up his belt and shoved it into her mouth even as she took the doggie-style position on the floor.

She was breathing hard and already turned on when he entered the room. At the club, she’d fantasized about him and that belt, and he gave her instructions that played to her naughtiest dreams.

“Good girl.”

He walked in front of her and took the belt from her mouth.

“How many?” he asked.

“Eight. Sir.”

“Eight it is.”

Maybe she could have gotten away with suggesting six, but truthfully, she wanted more. And his raised brow, acknowledging her bravery, made her heart beat just a little faster.

He landed the first stripe across both buttocks, and she exhaled deeply. “One. Thank you.” Either he wasn’t wielding the belt with as much intensity as he had previously or her rear was getting calloused, because it didn’t hurt as badly as the first time at Dark Haven.

The second blow fell just below the first.

She exhaled again and said, “Thank you. Two.”

He fell into a rhythm, hardly varying the location or intensity of the belt. She responded perfectly to each, her body rocking forward with each stroke, and rocking back for the next one.

She didn’t feel the pain. Instead she surrendered to the sensations.

She wasn’t sure what was happening, but by the time he landed the eighth stripe across her buttocks, she was shockingly near orgasm. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Eight.”

He picked her up and placed her on her back on the bed.

She spread her legs in silent invitation.

Their gazes met. She saw desire and something more, something she didn’t dare name, in his eyes.

He sheathed himself in a condom and then took her in a single powerful thrust.

He fucked her hard. Her ass rubbed against the bedspread, and the slight sensation of pain made her squirm.

“Come anytime,” he told her.

Then he kissed her, intensely, his tongue taking and probing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, surrendering, offering more, demanding more.

He gently bit her neck, and she writhed beneath him. Her orgasm claimed her from deep inside, and she climaxed.

He rode her slower, seemingly holding back his own climax.

“I want you to come again,” he said.

“What are you, superhuman?”

“Just enjoying you, my sub.” He pulled back slightly and said, “Play with your pussy while I fuck you.”

She put her hand between them and stroked her clit while he moved inside her.

As he moved faster and faster, a second orgasm built in her. “Sir!”

“Go for it,” he told her.

Her vaginal muscles clenched, and her abdomen tightened. She had another shuddering orgasm. She was sweaty, and her heart was racing. She’d never been so satisfied, twice in a row.

He smiled down at her. After she moved her hand, he tucked an arm beneath her neck and cradled her head. He supported most of his weight on one elbow, but he moved so that he could drive even deeper into her pussy. “Mine.”

With a guttural moan, he ejaculated.

She lay there, trapped and protected while his breathing returned to normal. If she’d ever been happier, she didn’t remember when.

He held her for a long time before moving off her. He climbed from bed, then scooped her up into his arms. She squealed.

“You need another shower,” he said.

“So do you.” Then she added a more impish than serious, “Sir.”

“You can wash my back.”

She grinned. “Of course, Sir. Can you wash mine?”

“Insolent wench.”

Surprising her, he shampooed her hair, then lathered and rinsed her body. She relaxed into his tender ministrations. Part of her wished this moment could last forever. “Sir?”

“Questioning your dom?”

“No. No, Sir.”

He wiped droplets of water from her forehead. “I’m doing it because I want to.”

“No further questions,” she said.

“Double insolence?”

He smiled. Her stomach took a dive. She’d do almost anything to have the wattage of his smile directed at her.

He never asked her to wash his back. Instead, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry her while they were still in the shower stall. He grabbed a second one and gently rubbed her hair.

She’d never been cared for like this, and she realized she liked it. Compared to him, all men left her cold.

“Part your legs,” he said, then knelt to pat her tender parts.

That was it. She was done. Toast. In love. Not just a little, but totally, completely, head-over-heels for the first time in her life.

It wasn’t just the sweet ministrations tonight, but the constant attention to her wants and needs. And mostly, it had been the way he’d supported David’s law center. Inside this supersuccessful, dominating man was a gentle soul.

Still, the thought of being in love with anyone, especially him, scared her witless.

She realized it didn’t matter what her feelings were toward him. She and Master Trevor had a finite agreement. Nothing else, nothing more. He would return her to David soon. Shortly after that, she’d be back home in Denver, back in her real, boring, life.

Maybe she could see him from time to time, but that thought didn’t help. Saying good-bye would always hurt.

“Turn around.”

She did, and he rubbed her rear. She winced.

“Does that hurt?”

“Just a little,” she said, determined not to focus on the ridiculousness of being in love with her dom. “That beating was different.”

With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her back to face him. He was devastatingly handsome, with water clinging to his dark hair. His strong jaw was shadowed because it was the end of the day, and that just made him appear somewhat more dangerous. His shoulders were impossibly broad, and his narrow hips and semierect cock made her want him again.

“Different, how?” he asked.

She knew better than to refuse to answer or be embarrassed, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what was different about it. “I was able to let go, if that makes sense. I really enjoyed it. Like the experiences I read about.”

“It was discipline rather than punishment,” he told her. “That’s what I was talking about at Dark Haven. The beating was erotic, designed to turn you on. There wasn’t a lot of variety in terms of intensity or placement of the strokes. That was to allow your subconscious to know what to expect so you were more relaxed.”

His eyes were intense blue, seeming to read her every thought. It was as if he knew things about her that even she didn’t know. “It worked. I feel drugged.”

“That was the sex.”

All men thought that. “Uh-huh.” Regardless, she felt somewhat lethargic. Her muscles were relaxed, from the beating, from the shower. “Feel free to do that anytime.”

“Behave yourself, and I will.”

Their gazes met. They both knew this may never happen again.

He grabbed a towel for himself and wrapped it around his waist.

Emboldened by the knowledge they had only hours remaining together, she gave in to the temptation of running her fingers down his chest. She watched his reactions, waiting to see if he’d stop her.

He looked down at her, but he didn’t stop her.

After drawing in a deep breath, she slid her hand lower and took hold of his cock.

He closed his hand around hers, silently showing her the pressure he liked.

She began to masturbate him to a second erection.

“You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asked.

“I’m a little sore, but not too sore to take you again, Sir.”

“You really are a wanton wench.”

She sank her knees and closed her mouth around him.

“Shelby…”

She glanced up at him. Her pulse was pounding with the feeling of imminent loss, but she was determined to enjoy every moment of being with him rather than worrying about what life would be like after she left. She told herself being in love was supposed to be exhilarating and fun. It wasn’t supposed to cause a feeling of hopelessness.

She sucked him even deeper into her mouth and pressed her tongue against the spot below his cockhead.

He fisted his hands in her hair.

She surrendered to the thrust of his hips and fought her gag reflex. This man, at least temporarily, was her dom, and she wanted to please.

Suddenly his hands were around her upper arms. He pulled her to her feet.

Within moments, he had her against the shower wall, his hand between her legs, making sure she was ready for him. Her eyes widened from shock, from excitement.

“I’m going to take you like the sub you are.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’ll be right back.”

She was impatient for him to return. Naughtily she continued to play with her clit as he sheathed himself in a condom.

“Finally,” she said when he returned.

“Patience is a virtue in a submissive.”

“I’m not virtuous.”

He grinned. “So much the better.”

She was still ready for him. “Now, Sir. Please.” She stood on her tiptoes as he tilted his hips to penetrate her.

As he filled her, she clutched his shoulders for support.

Effortlessly he held her body, supporting her as he filled her again and again. Damn, but she’d miss this—miss him—when she was alone with her trusty vibrator.

He placed a hand beneath her buttocks, tilting her pelvis a bit so that the head of him rubbed against her G-spot. She dug her fingers into his strong shoulders as she rocked her hips and climaxed.

She’d never had sex like this before. And now that she knew what she was missing, she definitely wanted more.

The clenching of her internal muscles evidently spurred his orgasm.

“Now,” she said a few minutes later, “I really am exhausted.” Standing there, pressed up against the wall, on her tiptoes, after an exquisite fucking and beating drained her.

He moved hair back from her face. “Told you it was the sex.”

Back in bed, curled in his arms, she said, “David knows we’re meeting him tomorrow?”

“Master David,” he corrected. “You’ll be showing proper respect when you see him.”

She nodded, chastened.

“He knows we’re meeting him just after lunchtime at Dark Haven. You’ll show him you can behave, and you’ll show Master Xavier that you have had no ill effects from the week. Master David will return you to the airport.”

She wished she could be as calm, as matter-of-fact as he seemed to be. Her insides were in knots, and every hour seemed like only minutes.

She woke early the next morning, restless and unable to sleep. Her fidgeting woke Master Trevor.

“I could tie you to the bed.”

She hadn’t known he was awake. “But I’d like that.”

“Yeah. With you, I have to be careful that my punishment is really punishment and doesn’t lead to more bad behavior.”

“There is that.”

“Dress in a skirt, shoes, and shirt that you can travel in,” he told her.

Her heart momentarily stopped with the realization that they were so close to the end of their time together.

She packed while he made breakfast, and she joined him for coffee in the sun-drenched breakfast nook. She couldn’t eat more than a few bites.

He poured coffee from a carafe into a porcelain mug and added the exact amount of creamer she liked. He’d clearly been paying attention to little details. The way he watched for subtle nuances made him good at what he did, including driving her to orgasm.

“Nervous about seeing Master David?”

“Yes,” she lied. Lying, she figured, was better than letting him know she was sad about leaving. Master Trevor hadn’t revealed any of his thoughts, and he hadn’t hinted that he’d like her to stay, so her feelings were likely one-sided. He was single by choice, she knew. He turned down plenty of opportunities to play with subs. She took a drink of coffee to occupy herself and to disguise the fact her lower lip trembled. While the week had turned her world upside down, to him it had likely been nothing more than a fun diversion.

After breakfast, he took her into his home office to show her the initial designs for David’s law offices.

He brought up a slide show on the large monitor.

In the conceptual pictures, the building had a lovely new sign, along with a new door, sturdy but elegant wood.

“Stunning,” she said, standing behind him.

He went to the next slide.

“You’re adding a few windows.”

He zoomed in to show detail.

“Arched windows? I love them. Reminds me of this place.”

“We’re not doing much to the existing windows. He’ll still want plenty of privacy. But these fit the building and will add plenty of natural light.”

Which inspired optimism, she supposed.

He moved to pictures of the interior, including a conference room, several offices, a child’s playroom, file room, and a small break room, complete with refrigerator and small stove.

“You’ve thought of everything. The only thing it needs is a place to sleep on those nights when David refuses to go home.”

He skipped ahead and then said, “Right here.”

“Clever.” The room was small and tucked into a corner with no windows.

“A good place for him to spank a naughty sub.” He looked over his shoulder at her.

“You’re always thinking.”

“A place should always have a place to spank a misbehaved woman.”

“Of course.” Too bad she wouldn’t get the chance to be his misbehaved woman. She gave in to her sadness and impulse and kissed the side of his neck. “You’re an amazing man, Master Trevor.”

He turned to her, captured her around the waist, and pulled her onto his lap.

“You’re quite an inspiration, sub.” He kissed her long and slow. He tasted of coffee and sin and the impossible promise of tomorrow. For a moment she fantasized about truly being with him.

But then an alarm rang on his phone. He slowly ended the kiss. But he held on to her for a few seconds before brushing his thumb across her lips. “Behave this afternoon.”

She reluctantly left his lap and gathered their coffee cups for the last time.

While he grabbed her suitcase from upstairs, she rinsed their coffee cups and the coffee carafe, and after confirming that she was ready to go, he called for a cab.

As they got closer to Dark Haven, adrenaline began to build. Seeing David, saying good-bye to Master Trevor, wondering what he had in store for their last event.

She twisted her hands in her lap, and Master Trevor placed a hand over them, stilling her movements.

“I promise it won’t hurt a bit,” he told her with a wolfish grin.

Destiny met them inside the club. She gave Master Trevor a scowl, then looked Shelby over from head to foot.

“I didn’t harm her one little bit,” he promised the woman, holding up his hands.

“So why does she look so unhappy?” Destiny asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Unhappy?” Master Trevor asked, looking at Shelby.

“I’m just nervous,” Shelby said, the lie slipping out as easily as it had at Master Trevor’s loft.

“I reserved the punishment room and the horse,” he said to Destiny.

She hesitated, and Shelby wondered if Destiny would refuse. When she’d met the other woman on previous visits, she’d been friendly and outgoing. Obviously she was protective of subs, though. Master Xavier had done well hiring her. Nothing got past the woman.

“This way,” Destiny said with a toss of her hair.

“Sir?” Shelby asked.

“Follow me,” he said.

Wanting to behave, wanting him to be happy with her, she trailed him, the requisite three feet behind. The odd thing was, she was happy to do so.

“I’ll send Master Xavier by,” Destiny said.

Shelby wasn’t sure if that was a warning or promise.

“And Master David, when he arrives, if you will.”

She stuck her tongue behind her lip, pushing out her lip piercing.

Shelby liked the woman more and more.

Master Trevor shut the door to the all-too-familiar room.

She recognized the horse, but now it didn’t seem so intimidating. She knew Master Trevor, trusted him. As long as she could control her mind and surrender rather than fight, she’d get through this.

“Seems you have more than one protector,” he told her.

“Or you’re an ogre.”

“Clearly. And there’s a reason you’re standing?” He folded his arms across his chest.

The temperature in the room plummeted. She hadn’t lied to Destiny. She was well and truly nervous now, knowing David and Master Xavier would be joining them. “Shall I undress?”

“Did I order you to strip?”

She gulped and cast her gaze down. “No, Sir.”

“Do what you’re supposed to do, Shelby.”

Quickly she lowered herself to her knees.

He walked over to her and crouched in front of her. With his finger, he lifted her chin. “You’re lovely, sub.”

She blinked. “Sir?”

He moved the pad of his thumb gently down her jawbone.

She could get lost in his eyes. Suddenly she wanted to stay. Unfortunately subs didn’t get to make that decision.

“Thank you for being my sub for the past week. It was a novel experience. I’m glad I got to know you.”

Her heart raced. She didn’t dare hope he’d say more, but desperately she wished he would. “Thank you, Sir.”

Abruptly he changed the subject. “Master David will be here shortly. Master Xavier may or may not pop in.”

She nodded, never wanting him to let her go.

“I will give you a symbolic beating before releasing you back to Master David.”

She stopped breathing.

“I expect you to take it with grace. Make me proud, little sub.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m greedy. I won’t let anyone else touch you while you wear my collar. After that, it’s your choice.”

“Thank you.”

Their gazes were locked. It seemed as if a thousand things remained unspoken.

After several seconds of silence, he said, “I hope that sometime in the future we can—”

The door banged open.

“Good afternoon. Shelby’s actually kneeling? And she stayed there?”

Crap.

David’s arrival interrupted Master Trevor’s words…words she hoped she’d hear, promises of the future and, of course, his undying devotion.

If it had been possible to stamp her foot, she would have.

Instead, she stayed exactly where she was with Master Trevor’s hand holding her chin, despite the fact her friend and sometimes-dom was in the room, looking at her, studying her, maybe judging her.

After tenderly stroking her jawbone one last time, he released her and stood to greet Master David.

“I received the preliminary ideas for the law center,” David said. “I’m beyond impressed. Honored. We’ll do a fundraiser right away. Thank you.”

“I would have done it anyway,” Master Trevor said. “But Shelby’s involvement convinced me to do it immediately.”

Her heart pumped faster. Part of it had been about her.

“Stand, sub,” Master Trevor said.

Keeping her gaze on the floor, she rose with more grace than would have been possible a week ago. Practicing hundreds of times a day led to mastery.

She stood there quietly and waited for further instruction. She wanted to please Master Trevor. She knew that by focusing on him—and only him—she would stay grounded.

“I want you naked, and I want Master David to see how well you behave.”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. It was a given that she’d do what he told her.

“Take off your blouse, then remove your skirt. Leave your shoes on,” he said.

He had told her previously that he had a thing for stilettos. She’d remembered and had worn them intentionally.

She took her time unfastening the buttons on her silk shirt. She was aware of Trevor watching appreciatively and David looking at her with an intrigued, raised eyebrow.

Trying not to allow her fingers to shake, she shrugged out of the silk shirt.

“Great tits, Shel,” David said.

She’d actually dated him?

Trevor extended his hand, and she draped the material over it.

She slowly unzipped her skirt and then shimmied out of it. The fabric pooled onto the floor. She waited for him to tell her to step out of it before she moved.

David sucked in a breath. “You taught her all this in a week?”

“She’s a fast learner,” Master Trevor said.

As she stood there, naked except for shoes and his collar, the men talked about her as if she wasn’t there. She really liked some parts of submission. Other pieces were much more difficult to handle…like them talking about her as if she weren’t there.

She supposed that submission was much like a number of other things. There were trade-offs. Like the fact she hated to exercise but enjoyed the results.

Hoping she was disguising her impatience, trying to be a good sub, she waited for further instruction.

“Climb up on the horse, sub, your ass facing us, just like last time.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

He swept the skirt from the floor, then hung it and her shirt on a peg on the wall.

She concentrated on her breathing as she climbed onto the horse.

Master Trevor grabbed restraints from the wall and walked over to her. “You’re doing well,” he said quietly. “I’m proud of you.”

He stroked her spine, and she relaxed. She forgot about everything except pleasing him.

She wriggled until she was as comfortable as possible, and she stuck out her ass in a way she knew he expected.

“Good girl,” he said against her ear as he bent to secure her first wrist in place.

She could do this. She would do this.

In only minutes, he had her tied to the horse.

“How many, sub?”

“Ten, Sir.”

Silence seemed to echo before he said, “With what implement?”

“Whatever Master chooses.”

“Jesus,” he muttered.

She grinned into the vinyl. She’d never used that term of respect before, and clearly he knew it. She liked shocking him.

She wondered what David thought of her new behavior. They’d played together for years, but nothing like this. She’d always talked, always told him what to do, always refused to let him tie her down, always made him stop.

“The flogger or my belt?” Master Trevor asked. “Choose.”

“The flogger, Sir.”

A good sub would give the answers he expected, but she wasn’t quite as good as he thought.

He trailed the twelve thick leather tips over her back, across her buttocks, and then allowed them to dance on the skin of her thighs.

Suddenly she wasn’t feeling so brave.

They’d never played with a flogger, and she wasn’t sure what its intensity was like. She closed her eyes, quickly praying she wasn’t in too deep.

He shocked her by reaching between her legs and pressing a finger against her clit. She swallowed a gasp and curved her fingers into the horse.

“You’re wet, sub.”

“Master’s touch does that, Sir.”

He gently pinched her clit. “No orgasming.”

“Sir?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Sorry, Sir.”

He removed his hand and took away the flogger.

She didn’t even have time to tense her muscles in anticipation before the first dull blow landed. “Thank you, Sir. One.” He hadn’t told her to count or express gratitude, but she supposed that was a given.

The second thuddy stripe landed almost on top of the first. She breathed out and thanked him. “Two.”

By the third, they’d found a rhythm. “Three; thank you, Sir.”

He wielded the whip like a master. The differences between this kind of beating and punishment were vast. This was scripted for her enjoyment.

The fourth landed, and she moved with it, then brought her body back into position for the fifth.

Despite his warning, deep inside, an orgasm built. Her pussy was damp. “Four. Thank you, Sir.”

Now she had something else to worry about. If she orgasmed and others were in the room, he’d have no option but to turn this into a punishment.

He landed another stripe, this one blazingly hard. Most of the throngs curled around her thighs instead of her ass and bit into her skin. But one tip landed viciously between her legs and caught the tender flesh of her pussy. She screamed.

Damn it! The single throng seared.

She yanked against her restraints, desperate to get away.

“Shelby?”

Panting, blinking back the sting of tears, she forced herself to say, “Five. Thank you, Sir.”

She expected the next stripe to come immediately, but it didn’t. Obviously he was giving her time to compose herself.

She exhaled shakily.

Shelby had dug her fingers into the horse’s vinyl padding, and as she managed to breathe again, she realized the pain had obliterated her need to come.

Her dom had been watching her carefully, reading her. Over the past week, he’d taken the time to learn about her and her responses. He knew her intimately and had apparently recognized that the rhythm of the beating was bringing her to orgasm.

There was huge emotional comfort in the fact that he was completely in tune with her.

Now that her physical responses were once again under control, she forced her rear out again and waited for him. She might not know what to expect, but she knew, totally, that she could trust him.

As if the sound were from somewhere far away, she heard the slight groan of the door opening.

“Good afternoon, Master Trevor. Master David.”

She recognized the sound of Master Xavier’s voice.

Shelby’s body went rigid.

Having David there watching her beating was bad enough, but having Master Xavier in attendance made it more intense.

“Destiny wanted me to check in,” Master Xavier said.

Shelby heard sounds, as if the men were shaking hands…shaking hands while she lay strapped to the horse, her ass sticking in the air, her pussy exposed.

“We’re halfway through the sub’s beating,” Master Trevor said.

“Please continue.”

She’d never get accustomed to being spoken about as if she weren’t there.

She uncurled her fingers, knowing the strokes wouldn’t feel as intense if her muscles were more relaxed.

He caught her upper thighs, in that tender spot just below her buttocks.

She gasped. She thought she’d been ready, but it seemed she was never completely ready for the first blow. As she wriggled back into the obscene position of exposing her female parts, she said, “Six, Sir. Thank you.”

“Good,” Master Xavier remarked. “Quite a change from last week. Turns out you don’t need a gag after all.”

She felt a flush of joy, not only for herself but for Master Trevor. His reputation, even with Destiny, had to go up a notch because of her behavior.

“I’d gag her just because I’d like the sight of a ball in her mouth,” David said.

As if he’d ever get that chance.

She liked playing with Master Trevor. In the future, she doubted she would want to play with anyone other than him.

The men were silent while he delivered the next few stripes. She concentrated on the rhythm, on her breathing, of the forward then backward sway of her hips as the flogger rose and fell against her skin.

The tenth and final stroke hit her like magic, a caress, a promise that would remain unfulfilled.

Tears stung her eyes, but it had nothing to do with pain. “Ten. Thank you, Sir.”

“Wow,” David said. “Impressive. And if she had a gag in her mouth, she wouldn’t be able to say thank you. Good choice on leaving her mouth available.”

She wasn’t sure what Master Trevor had almost said earlier, despite what she wanted to hear. Even if he did want to have a scene later, she wasn’t sure she could handle it emotionally. She was in love with the man. Since she was so emotionally invested, she couldn’t have a casual hookup on the rare occasions she was in San Francisco.

Even though she was desperate to see him again, it was probably better for her if she never did.

“Maybe I’ll send in Destiny to receive a beating,” Master Xavier said. “Well done, both of you.”

From her peripheral vision, she saw Master Trevor hang the flogger on the wall.

“I agree,” David said. “Well done, Master Trevor.”

Master Trevor returned to her. Gently he lifted her hair and unfastened the collar.

She was no longer aware of her physical exposure. Compared to her emotional fragility, being tied naked to a punishment horse seemed trivial. Bravely she tried to swallow the sudden knot in her throat.

He held the collar in his left hand and smoothed back her bangs with his right hand.

“Buy you a drink?” Master Xavier asked, the question obviously directed toward Master Trevor.

“Thanks,” Master Trevor said, moving away from her without a backward glance.

Then, suddenly, the room was silent.

Just like that, it was over with Master Trevor.

“Damn. You took that well, Shel. I’m impressed. Never knew you had it in you,” David said, crouching next to her to release her restraints. “I guess I wasn’t the right dom for you.”

She barely heard him, and she wasn’t capable of responding. She wanted to be back home, where she could be alone with her fragile emotions.

Like a good friend, David helped her from the horse and into her coat once she’d managed to dress.

Thankfully he had no need to run his mouth.

He draped an arm around her shoulder as he walked her to the club’s exit door.

She kept her gaze down, not because it was the respectful thing to do but because she wasn’t sure she could keep it together if she saw Master Trevor on her way out.

Chapter Seven

“Jesus.”

Trevor looked up from the papers he’d been staring at. He’d vaguely been aware of the overhead bell jangling as the front door had opened. But it hadn’t been enough to galvanize him into action.

He’d arrived at David’s law offices long before dawn, telling himself he wanted to get a jump on the day. But the truth was that seeing his company’s progress, studying the checklists, verifying things were on track gave him something to do and got him out of his godforsakenly lonely home.

David stood in front of him, holding a cup of to-go coffee from the local place down the street.

“How long have you been here? It’s not even six yet.”

“Just got here. Maybe ten minutes?” Probably more like an hour, but he’d sound pathetic if he admitted that.

“Are you sleeping at all?” David asked.

“If that’s your way of saying I look like shit, it wasn’t very subtle.”

“I save subtle for court,” he said. “You haven’t shaved, maybe in a week. So, yeah,” he said easily, “you look like shit.” He offered the cup to Trevor. “You need this more than I do.”

As a testament to how tired he really was, Trevor accepted the offering without even asking what the beverage was.

He took a sip and gagged. “Christ! What the hell is this? Caramel something-or-other?” Figures the man would order a froufrou drink. “What the fuck happened to real men drinking real coffee?”

“I just gave you a five dollar latte. My five dollar latte. With whipped cream. Show a little gratitude.”

“Gratitude for something that tastes like dessert at six o’clock in the morning?”

“It’s Shelby’s favorite.”

Fuck.

Just what he needed, a reminder of the woman he’d let walk out of Dark Haven and California. But what real choice did he have? She had a life and successful career in Denver. He loved San Francisco with its moody weather and sometimes-nasty ocean. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

He’d enjoyed his week with her, but it had been little more than a diversion for either of them, albeit a diversion that still knocked him around emotionally.

He’d been to Dark Haven once in the month since she left. There had been a few subs at the club who were curious and indicated they were available for him. Since they didn’t have the protection of a dom, he could have played with any of them. But it turned out he hadn’t wanted to. He only wanted a particular olive-skinned, dark-haired, green-eyed beauty with a very round, sexy little butt.

He’d had a drink with Master Xavier, exchanged glares with Destiny—one day he really was going to have to beat her—and then returned home. He’d showered and masturbated to memories of Shelby.

He’d learned, in the week they’d shared, that he no longer wanted a meaningless relationship, no quick fucks.

He wanted someone like Shelby, in his bed, in his collar, twenty-four hours a day. She was more of an I’ll-be-a-sub-when-it’s-convenient-for-me type of woman. Playing in the scene on weekend visits to Dark Haven wasn’t going to work for him.

“She’s as miserable as you are,” David said casually as he moved toward the office coffeemaker. He measured grounds into the basket, then turned on the tap and filled the carafe.

“Excuse me?” Trevor asked.

“She says she won’t play with me ever again. Seems she only wants to play with one dom, and I’m not him.”

David’s statement shouldn’t have mattered. There were numerous reasons a relationship between him and Shelby wouldn’t work.

“I tried to call her last week to check up on her. I couldn’t reach her by cell phone.”

Trevor told himself he wasn’t interested in how many times David called her or talked to her. He liked the man, but the sudden feeling of jealousy made him want to catch the other man with an uppercut to the jaw. Nothing serious. But laying him out for several minutes would feel good.

David poured the water into the coffeemaker. “The secretary told me Shelby took a few days off work last week. I guess she went backwoods camping. Said she needed to get away.”

“Alone?”

“In the Rocky Mountains, yes. It was evidently just her, a backpack, some food and water, and a tent. I think she had a flashlight.”

Trevor’s jaw tightened. The woman needed a keeper. Hell, she needed more than a keeper. She needed a Master.

“She’d told me she was thinking of going away. I asked her not to go, especially not alone,” David said. “But she wouldn’t listen to me. She never listens to me about anything. I kept trying to call, but she either had her phone off or it wasn’t getting reception. Are there grizzlies in the Rockies? I forget.”

Grizzlies?

With that kind of disregard, she’d be better off taking her chances with a grizzly than with him.

David turned on the coffeemaker. “No hard feelings that my women would rather be with you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. David studied it for a moment. “I wrote Shelby’s home address on the back,” he said. “Travel safe.”

A vibrator made a lousy companion. But it was better than nothing, at least most of the time.

With a sigh, Shelby dug through the junk drawer in her kitchen, searching for a fresh battery. This trusty bullet had been more than powerful enough to get her off until she’d met Master Trevor. Now that she’d experienced real sexual satiation, the bullet just didn’t provide the kick to get her over the edge.

But since she had no interest in anyone but him tying her up and beating her, she was stuck with toys and batteries.

The weekend loomed. It was only six o’clock on Friday. Who knew two days could feel like eternity?

She’d been back in Denver for a month, but she hadn’t settled back into her life. She enjoyed her job, but she hated the rest of her life. She was bored, restless, and lonely.

The few days she’d spent at a remote cabin had dragged. She’d gone up there hoping to find peace, maybe a few answers. She’d gotten little out of the trip except frozen toes from dipping them in an alpine lake.

Half a dozen times, she’d picked up the phone to call Master Trevor. The last time she’d spoken with David, he’d given her Trevor’s phone number and said that Trevor wasn’t seeing anyone else. He’d evidently visited Dark Haven, but he hadn’t played with anyone while he was there.

Part of her was desperate enough to fly to San Francisco to enjoy a scene with him, if he were willing.

She always pushed the End button before the call completed the circuit.

Being with him, playing with him, would be fantastic. But then she’d have to say good-bye all over again. The feelings she had for him right now would only intensify.

No, for better or worse, she was better off trying to get on with her life, as impossible as that seemed.

She inserted the new battery into the bullet and twisted it to the On position.

The intensity seemed better than before, but still, it probably wasn’t enough.

She went into her bedroom and stripped, then lay on the bed and parted her thighs. She closed her eyes and remembered that final time in the club with Master Trevor.

She recalled him tying her to the horse and stroking her pussy while she was helpless. David had been there, watching, but she’d been unaware of anything but Master Trevor’s touch. He’d made her wet, and he’d pinched her clit.

With her left hand, she spread her labia. Just as he had, she pinched her clit, making it big and swollen.

She was back at Dark Haven, her ass sticking out as she waited for him to strike her with the flogger.

Finally, aroused, she turned on the vibrator and placed it on her clit.

She began to gyrate as the pulsing sensations went through her.

She wanted his hand, wanted a spanking.

She wanted him.

The climax was close, but no matter how sharp and focused her thoughts were, the orgasm loomed just out of reach.

She dug her heels into the mattress, seeking that relief.

A pounding on the door interrupted her.

“Damn it.” So close.

For a moment, she ignored the pounding and continued pressing the wiggling, pulsing little bullet against her clit. No one she knew would drop by without calling first. Her house was on a quiet semirural street. She had few neighbors, and those she did have mostly kept to themselves.

“Goddamn it, Shelby, open this door!”

She dropped the vibrator. Master Trevor? No. It wasn’t possible. What would he be doing here?

“Open it, now!”

There was no mistaking that voice or that no-nonsense tone. Master Trevor was here, and he sounded determined.

Shaking from nerves, from excitement, she snatched up the vibrator and turned it off before dropping it back on the bed.

Her whole body suddenly felt alive.

She grabbed a short robe and pulled it on as she headed to the door.

“Three spankings for every second you make me wait.”

“Coming, Sir!” She finally managed to tie the knot of the satiny robe less than a second before she turned the dead bolt.

She opened the door. For a moment she forgot how to breathe.

She’d forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was.

Dark hair, steely blue eyes, firm set to his jaw.

He wore a black T-shirt and black jeans, along with black boots. He smelled of man, of a cool outdoor evening, of determination. She could drink him in. She had no idea why he was here, and it didn’t matter. If he wanted to screw her and leave, right now, she’d allow it. She was suddenly shameless.

“Master David gave me your address. Invite me in.”

It was more a demand than a request, and they both knew it.

“Yes, Sir.” She stepped back, and he entered.

His presence overwhelmed her small home. Hell, he overwhelmed her.

Her pulse raced. Without thinking, she threw herself at him.

He grabbed her, dragging her onto her toes and imprisoning her shoulders. “Open your mouth, little sub.”

A good sub would, and for once, being a good sub was easy. “Please, Sir. Kiss me.” She opened her mouth.

He claimed her with passion and dominance, taking her mouth with his tongue the way he took her pussy with his cock.

This felt right and natural, the way it should be.

Finally he set her on her feet and released her shoulders. “On your knees, sub.”

It was an order, but this time, she heard the request in his words. He was offering her a choice. She wasn’t sure what the choice really was, but he’d made the trip from California to Colorado. That meant something.

“I don’t know how things will work out,” he said. His voice was raw, coarse, scratchy, in a way she’d never heard before. “But I know I want you.”

She inhaled deeply. “I want that too.”

“Then take off your robe and get on your knees.”

Her fingers trembled, and she fumbled with the knot.

He curled a hand over hers, stilling her motions. “Drop your hands to your side.”

She did, and he skillfully loosened the belt. He pushed the satin fabric back, off her shoulders.

“Your pussy is still shaved the way I like it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Shocking her, he placed his hand between her legs. “Your pussy is wet, little sub. What were you doing before I got here?”

She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “Um…” She glanced at his hand. She could say she’d only gotten damp since he arrived. But if they went into her bedroom, which she was willing to bet they would do, he’d see her vibrator on the mattress. And then she’d be in trouble for lying.

“Sub?”

“I was masturbating when you got here.”

“Ah. Don’t let me interrupt.”

A hot blush rushed up her neck to settle on her face. She noticed that his cock had swelled against his jeans. He was turned on.

“Where were you masturbating?”

“The bedroom. Sir.”

“Show me the way.”

Nervous, excited, her pussy getting wetter and wetter, she lowered herself to her knees and began to crawl to the bedroom.

He followed.

Having him here felt right and natural. Like him, she had no idea where this could go, but she wanted to find out.

She was aware of the loudness of his boots against the hardwood floors. He sounded commanding, in charge. She felt feminine and helpless as she crawled down the hallway, her hips gently rocking from side to side with each movement.

One she was inside the bedroom door, she hesitated.

“Do what you were doing before I got here.”

She crawled up onto the bed and lay on her back.

He moved to the foot of the bed and looked at her. After being tied with her legs apart at the club, this shouldn’t bother her, but here, somehow, it did.

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.

She picked up the vibrator and turned it on before shutting her eyes.

Conscious of him watching her, she parted her thighs; then she spread her labia to reveal her clit.

She pressed the nubby tip of the bullet against her clit. Her hips jerked in response. Her earlier response hadn’t been this intense. Earlier, her dom hadn’t been here, watching.

She felt the beginning tendrils of an orgasm. A climax had hidden, out of reach, for the month they’d been apart, and now she was only moments away from coming.

“This is hotter than hell,” he said. “I’ll have you masturbate more often.”

The promise of a future made her heart do a somersault. She hadn’t thought she was strong enough to have occasional hookups with this man, but now she knew the truth. It was better than nothing.

“Pull back the hood of your clit,” he said.

She did.

“Press that vibrator against it, harder, but don’t come.”

She was going out-of-her-mind mad.

“Your nipples are hard, as well,” he said.

She heard him move, then felt the mattress sink down. She opened her eyes to see him kneeling on the side of the bed.

“Keep masturbating.”

He took both of her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed tightly.

Who knew she liked that much pain?

She screamed, arching her back, coming without permission. He’d given her no choice. That exquisite torment had pushed her over the edge as he’d clearly known it would.

He’d wanted her to come, probably so he could punish her.

She dragged in several rapid breaths.

“Stay where you are,” he said.

As if she could move.

He left the bedroom, and when he returned, he was naked. She blinked. What a delicious-looking man.

His cock jutted out demandingly. He had already sheathed himself in a condom. Even though she’d just come, she was wet and ready again.

But when he held out his hand, her body froze.

He held her collar. “Maybe you could move to San Francisco,” he said. “But if you’re unwilling to do that, we’ll work something out. I’ll spend time here; you can spend time there. But I know one thing, woman, I want you in my bed, my life, my collar.”

This was all she’d hoped for, more than she dared to dream. She wasn’t sure how they’d work it out, but she knew she was committed to try. “Yes, Sir.”

“We’ll do a formal ceremony later. I want others to see you in perfect submission.”

She nodded.

“For now, lift your hair.”

She did.

Their gazes locked as he knelt over her and fastened the choker in place. The metal momentarily felt cool against her skin, but it warmed quickly.

“I love you, little sub.”

“I’ve been in love with you since you first spanked me, Sir.”

His eyes blazed, the steel becoming molten. “I’m taking you missionary style, pinning you down, making you submit.”

“That’s what I want.”

“Guide my cock inside you.”

A good sub would do exactly that. This time, at least, she was happy to be a good sub.

He moved over her. She curled her hand around his significant girth and stroked his length several times. His penis became even more engorged. She wanted him inside her.

After moving her hand, she arched her back toward him, welcoming his possession. “Please fuck me forever, Master.”

He supported his weight with one arm. He feathered back her bangs with the other. “I thought you’d never ask.”

~ * ~