Playing Hard to Master

“Maybe so.” She reached her foot out toward him, and he caught it between his hands. “But now you owe me. We had your fun. When do I get to have mine?”

“Be patient, little girl.”

Purposefully, she pushed her bottom lip out into a pout, and he laughed.

“Bad girl. Be careful or I’ll lose patience and fuck you right here.”

“Ew.” She grimaced. “Not in your friend’s hot tub. That’s skeevy.”

“On that chair, then,” he said, pointing to the spot where she’d danced for him weeks ago. “I thought you wanted your dozens of orgasms.”

“Dozens? I don’t think it was dozens.” He’d sand her clit off if he gave her dozens. “Even I can’t get off that many times, and I’m pretty damn good at multiples.”

“I noticed.” He winked.

Feeling bratty, she pushed. “Besides, I doubt you’re skilled enough to give me dozens.”

As she’d guessed, his brow arched. “You sure you want to go there, brat?”

“You’re good, but I don’t know if you’re that good.”

Before she had time to react, he pounced. She squealed as he picked her up out of the tub and leaned her over the edge. Fighting was no use—he pi

Now she was fucked.

She turned her head so he couldn’t see her smile.

“You didn’t expect to get away with insulting me, did you?” With his free hand, he yanked down her wet panties—which she’d insisted on wearing into the hot tub. “Not smart, brat. Your ass is wet and already warm. This is go

At that, a flurry of smacks rained down on her poor ass, making her squirm and yelp.

Fuck. She hadn’t thought through the wet-butt part. She kicked and co

It hurt, but it was still playful. “Stop!” she cried out, trying to contain her giggles. “Stop! Please!”

He did, then pulled up her underwear. “What do you have to say for yourself, girl?”

Turning her head, she gave him a teasing look. “You are the Lord of the Orgasms, Sir. Your fingers are as big as sausages and give me much pleasure.”

His booming laugh echoed in the pool room. Then he released her hands and scooped her up into his arms. “You’re lucky you’re so fu

She squirmed in his arms until she could wrap her legs around his waist and kiss him. He took his time, heating her more than the warm water did. She ground her pelvis against him, feeling her clit swell and beg for attention.

Then he pulled back and stared at her—like she was something worth staring at it. After surviving high school, she’d developed a sense of confidence, but something about Ambrose made her feel fluttery and vulnerable. Not in a bad way—he made her feel sexy, too—but vulnerable, like she was a lamb and he was the hungry wolf about to eat her.

And right now, that sounded pretty good.

She could come to love him someday.

Wait.

She froze. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Did thinking she could love someone mean she already did?

“Come on.” He rose from the hot tub, water cascading down his back and legs. “I brought something with me I want to play with again.”

At the table, he dug into a small bag she hadn’t noticed before. Whatever it was, she was game. Curious and playful now, she left the hot tub to get a closer look.

When he turned around, he held up the belled nipple clamps they’d used last time they were in this room, and smiled.

She knew her eyes widened. Not only because she felt it happen, but she could tell by the satisfied look on Ambrose’s face. Why did Doms enjoy shocking their subs so much?

But nipple clamps? With her skin all hot and vulnerable? Fuck no. And her period just ended, which meant her breasts were still sensitive and sore.

By the look in his eye, she could tell he was undeterred. Backing away, she slowly shook her head.

He nodded and gri

Instinct made her fling her arms over her breasts. He laughed, evil and maniacal. A second later, he was on top of her. He clutched tight onto her upper arms and panic hit.

For some reason, all she could think was get away. The idea of those things on her nipples . . . She shuddered. She couldn’t handle it. Not today.

So she ran.

She caught a confused look on his face just before she turned the corner into the bathroom and locked the door.

Panting, she leaned up against the door.

Shit. What was she doing? Why did she run? It was a game she’d played before, sure, but it was usually mutual and for fun. She had just run because she’d been . . . scared.

Was he going to be pissed?

As if on cue, he boomed from outside the door, “Everly, I’m going to retrieve a few things upstairs.”

She gulped.

“When I come back down, you’d better be waiting in the living room for me.”

Okay, that didn’t sound too bad. Maybe he was just getting them warm clothes.

“If I have to wait for you, your punishment will be worse, so I suggest you get your ass out here.”

Crap. Biting her lip, she paced the bathroom a few times. They’d only had funishment so far, not actual, real punishment. Unless the strap incident counted. How bad would it be? Her stomach sank even as her clit tingled with excitement.

God, what was wrong with her? Ambrose wasn’t a Dom to be fucked with, and she’d just pissed him off. This was no time to be horny. Yet she was.

But staying in the bathroom would only end up worse for her. She just had to suck it up, walk out, and deal with whatever came.

When she heard his footsteps move up the stairs, she opened the door and scuttled to the living room. Thinking she’d better look pretty damned sorry, she took off her wet panties and knelt on the ground in front of the fireplace.

The heat from it brought her attention to the fact that he’d turned it on. Probably for her. At least he cared enough to do that. Maybe she wasn’t in too much trouble.

He appeared a few moments later, holding a wooden hairbrush at his side.

Fuck. She hated wooden implements. Floggers and crops and canes were so much more fun. Her gaze stayed on the brush, and she whined.

Moving toward her, he lifted it up. “Don’t like this, huh?”

Gaze on the rug now, trying to look contrite, she shook her head.

“Good. Maybe you’ll learn your lesson, then.” He sat down on the couch then didn’t say anything for a minute.

Too afraid to look at him, she stared at the blue carpet and counted the circles that made up the modern pattern.

“Come here,” he ordered.

She knew enough about Doms by now to win brownie points, so instead of walking, she crawled to him.

When she reached his feet, she looked up at him. There was interest in his gaze, but he seemed to have it firmly under control.

“Who are you now, Sir? The Sultan again? Or are you my professor?”

He frowned. “We’re just me and you. There’s something you should know, Everly. I’m not just the bedroom-only playful Dom. I love bratty subs, but that doesn’t mean I’ll put up with everything. Especially not ru

“I panicked.”

“Then I expect you to talk to me about it. You can always safeword. You should know I’m willing to discuss things, that I won’t force you into things you’re afraid of.”

Shame filled her, and she dropped her gaze to the ground again.

“Look at me.”

Ugh. Did she have to?

A finger came under her chin and he forced her head up. She let her eyes meet his, saw the disappointment there. For all her bratty ways, she didn’t really want to upset him. Her eyes started to water.

“You have to trust your Master.”

She nodded.

“We don’t run away from each other. We talk.”