Finding Master Right

Before he realized what he was doing, he’d buried his fist in her hair. She gasped but didn’t try to get away.

“Did I say you had to be a mindless sex doll?” he growled. “I said you need to remember what you like, so that you don’t lose track of what you’re after.”

Kate’s eyes had lost focus again, and she angled her face toward his as though she wanted him to kiss her. How was he supposed to teach her anything from an objective standpoint if she was accidentally pushing all of his buttons? He tightened his fist in her hair, and she moaned.

Fuck objective.

He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “If you keep challenging a Dom, eventually, you’ll get more than you bargained for. I’m supposed to be teaching you things, not touching you. How are you going to learn if your sex drive keeps taking over?”

Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips against Kate’s. Soft, sensual . . . not that he’d forgotten the last time. She whined and tried to deepen the kiss, but he held her back by the hair and lightly traced her lips with his tongue. When he was ready, he kissed her, still restraining her by the hair. Her lips yielded under his. The nervous way she kissed him back, her tongue shyly meeting his, pushed him further into Dom space. He adjusted his grip in her hair, and she whimpered into his mouth. Would it be so wrong to throw her to her back and see just how willing she was?

He broke the kiss off when he chose to, sat back in his chair slightly, and allowed her to inch closer until she was between his knees, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Please.” The word was so quiet he thought for a moment that he’d imagined it.

“Please what, Kate?”

“Please show me what it’s like with you. Just once.” She was in a subby headspace, maybe for the first time in her life, and although he ached to have her, he wondered if it was the wrong thing to do.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He chuckled regretfully.

She pressed her cheek to his knee but didn’t look away. “Please, Sir. I’ll do what you want. I’ll be good.”

Sir? Fuck, that word from her lips, and her meaning it, shot straight to his cock. He untangled his gaze from hers and his hand from her long silky hair. Her sound of disappointment was adorable.

“Fine. You want to play with me, little girl?”

She seemed aware then, but more amused than worried. Had the submissiveness been real, or a ruse? Was this just about getting him into bed? God, this girl was messing with his instincts.

“I have a safeword if I can’t handle it.”

He’d have to pay close attention to make sure he didn’t push her too far—safewords only worked if you remembered to use them.

“Strip.”

Kate’s jaw dropped for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Just like that?”

“What do you expect, di

His tone seemed to take her aback, but he wasn’t one to mince words. If she was just there to get laid he wouldn’t waste his time.

“I didn’t come here just to put a Dom notch in my belt.” Her face was scarlet. “I just—I’m a curious person. Janine has told me what Chris is like with her behind closed doors, and I was just wondering how the Master/slave dynamic was different.” She shifted where she knelt, and he wondered if her knees were getting sore.

“Labels are labels. They mean different things to different people.” He rubbed his hand over the leather of the chair’s arm, wishing he dared to touch her again. They had to get this sorted out first. “Usually the Master/slave dynamic is deep—committed—and there’s a strong emotional bond. Often it’s twenty-four-seven. For the most part, slaves submit more fully to their Masters, but I’ve met couples that identify as Dom/sub that fit that description, and Masters with slaves where they’re not pla

“So the differences between Dom/sub and Master/slave are nothing or everything, depending on the relationship?”

He smiled grimly. “Exactly.”

“But clearly, to you, there’s a big difference in the intensity of the bond and the level of obedience . . . and in the degree to which you expect to be worshipped?” The light sarcasm implied that she was teasing rather than judging.

The smooth skin of her vulnerable throat was distracting. “Yes. As well as in the degree to which I cherish the woman who wears my collar.”

Kate pressed her lips together and bit them. Was she going to laugh off the order or conveniently forget he’d issued it?

“Is there something bothering you?”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You commanded me to take my clothes off, but I don’t know if you actually want me to or if you were just showing me I’m not as ready to try things out as I think I am.” She was watching him, trying to read his expression, which he was keeping purposely impassive. “And plus, if I take my clothes off does that make me a slut? We just met a few days ago.”

“When slaves are given a command, they obey. It’s not up to the slave to second-guess her Master; it’s only her responsibility to comply.”

“So it makes me a good girl, not a slut?”

“My good girl does slutty things when I tell her to. In return, the responsibility for that decision is mine.”

She straightened and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

“Should I do it while I’m kneeling here or stand up, Ba

His heart thumped emphatically. He hoped she couldn’t hear it.

“It would probably be easier if you stood.” He leaned back in his chair, working on looking like a cocky bastard rather than letting her see that she’d caught him off guard.

Kate placed a gentle hand on his knee to steady herself as she rose, and the intimacy of the gesture moved him from uncertainty to a more familiar self-assurance.

She was hesitating so hard it looked painful. When she fiddled with the bottom edge of her T-shirt, stalling, he corrected her.

“Look at me while you do it. I haven’t given you permission to look away.”

“Yes, Sir.” When she moved to comply, her reluctance to disrobe made her movements slow, piquing his interest more than she had probably meant to. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not usually this forward.”

“Has anyone made you do this before?”

“Undress while they watched me? Not like this. Maybe they watched when I undressed, but not so . . . intentionally.” The shirt had just reached the bottom curve of her pert breasts, then slid upward to reveal hardened nipples.

Ba

“I’m not perfect,” she warned shyly.

“Perfection bores me. Show me what isn’t perfect and I’ll give you my opinion.”

“I have a big butt. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do.”

“Show me.”

She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

He couldn’t bring himself to correct her for calling him “Sir” again. It sounded lovely coming from her mouth. “Turn your back to me and push your pants down all the way to your ankles.”

She whimpered but turned her back, then started sliding the pants slowly down, baring herself to him inch by inch. To him her ass was round and perfect—the type that begged for a Master’s hand, or maybe his teeth. He adjusted his hard-on through his jeans as he watched her bend all the way over, then snap back up as though she were made of impatient elastics. She kicked her pants in the direction of her shirt then turned to face him, covering her pussy with her hand.