Finding Master Right

He opened the bedside table and drew out her collar. Had he kept it there the whole time? A moment later, he was over her, buckling the black leather into place around her neck. With it, came an overwhelming rush of love and devotion.

“You are mine, little slave.”

His.

He kissed her with all the love and longing she’d felt while they were apart. Months ago, he’d told her a submissive was a Dominant’s greatest treasure.

She’d never fully understood what he’d meant until now. Ba

In return, being his filled a well of longing inside her. She knew she could be strong and independent, but this co

Epilogue

The Caribbean breeze swept through the open sliding door, making goose bumps rise on Kate’s wet skin.

“Take those off,” Ba

The only time she’d been allowed to wear clothing this week was bikini bottoms to the beach. It kept sand from reaching delicate places. But they were back in the beach house now, and Ba

The private vacation was sorely needed after the two weeks they’d just had. A piece of machinery had exploded in one of Ba

“You think you can go again, old man?” she teased.

His eyes narrowed. “Old man?”

Seductively, she slid off the polka-dot bottoms, then backed up a few steps as he stalked toward her. Before she could get far, he lunged and grabbed her arm. She squealed and tried to get away, but he landed three stinging smacks on her wet ass.

“Shower,” he barked, holding back a smile.

She was glad he had kept his sense of humor, even as their relationship deepened. The intensity of the Master/slave dynamic was broken up by goofy, giggly love.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a salute.

Growling, he followed her to the bathroom. She could practically feel his gaze on her ass, so of course she swayed it seductively.

He groaned. “You’re killing me, Trouble.”

“It’s only fair. You almost killed me with orgasms earlier.”

With a chuckle, he started the shower. “You’re complaining? Women everywhere would love to die from orgasms on a private beach in Saint Thomas.”

“Don’t I know it! They ogle you when we go into town.”

“Men ogle you too. Why do you think I keep you locked up here as much as possible?”

He whipped off his bathing suit, and she licked her lips and gave an impish smile. Roughly, he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Noooo,” she whined. “I was kidding. My lips are still chapped.”

His expression was smug as he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, delving into her mouth, exploring and playing while she gasped and tried to keep up.

“Get in the shower before I fuck you right here,” he said when he pulled away. He smacked her ass again.

She gave him a saucy look. “Yes, Master.”

In the shower, she waited for him to follow, but he stayed outside the door. “You’re not coming in?”

He shook his head. “You first. I have something to talk to you about after.”

Her curiosity was piqued, and with it she felt a twinge of dread. Needing “to talk” often meant bad news. He’d wined and dined her, tied her up, fucked her, mastered her, had done all sorts of crazy, romantic things—what could they possibly need to talk about? Were things not going how he wanted?

She watched him walk away, then stepped into the water. When it hit her skin, she realized how sore she was. Though they’d spent time relaxing, reading while cuddled up together and making plans for the future, there had been a lot of action. And the bastard had a kink for keeping her tied in uncomfortable positions, pushing her limits, testing her tolerance for pain.

She hissed when the water hit the cane marks on her thighs. “Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, wearing a secret smile. She loved it, but he already knew that.

After washing away the sand and salt from the beach, she turned off the shower. Ba

His lips tipped down somberly. Anxiety tied a knot in her belly. What was going on? Did something happen with Rook again? Or his mom? Things seemed so much better the last few months.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrapping the towel around her torso.

He gave a firm nod, and then he motioned toward the bedroom. “Go get ready for me. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Curiosity filled her more and more with each step into the bedroom. They’d been having so much fun. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt happier, more loved, more cherished, and more full of hope and life. Ba

She tried not to let her worry show as she climbed onto the bed. When he said “get ready for me” he wanted her kneeling, hands behind her back, head down, knees apart. Despite feeling as if she might throw up, she got into position, making sure it was perfect for him. Had she been too bratty? He seemed to like her joking around at times. He even said it gave him a reason to punish her, which his sadistic side loved.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, and she felt his presence in the room. She fought back the urge to lift her head to try to read his expression. She’d wait like the good girl he taught her to be.

He stopped in front of her. The heat from his body so close to hers warmed her down to her toes. He ran his fingertips from her shoulder, down her arm, then across her collarbone. She arched into his touch, loving the way it felt on that vulnerable part of her. His hand drifted to her throat and held her there softly.

She swallowed hard. When he held her throat, it always made her feel safe and protected. It was sexy because it was dangerous, but something about trusting him near her throat was deeply satisfying.

“Very nice,” he rumbled. “But you’re missing something. Where’s my collar?”

Crap. “I took it off.” He’d given her a day collar just before this trip. The simple chain was beautiful but especially so because of its meaning—the commitment and love it symbolized.

“Why?”

Was she in trouble? Was that what this was about? “I don’t like wearing it in the ocean. I’m scared it’s going to get ruined.”

There was silence for a moment, and she prepared for the worst.

“Why didn’t you put it back on after?”

She looked up at him, hoping he would see the honesty in her eyes. “I was going to but you told me to get into position.”

His face remained unreadable.

“I’m sorry, Master.” She ducked her head. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s not like I lost it or anything. It’s right on the—”

“Shh.” He put a finger over her lips, and she fought back the urge to suck it into her mouth. This didn’t feel like sexy time. Something was bothering him. “It’s okay,” he said. It sounded as though he was fiddling with something in a bag. Then the noise stopped. “Look at me.”