Finding Master Right(10)

Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes.

His silence dared her to say more. “I’m just confused,” she hedged. “Slavery is such a yucky word. I don’t understand the dynamic. Why would anyone relatively sane want that?”

His chuckle was humorless. “Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

With a sigh, he hung his head back for a moment before answering. She knew that look. She’d been on the receiving end of it before. Why, oh why, Kate, must you ask so many questions? Her aunt used to give her that same look.

“As a Dom, there’s nothing more satisfying than having a woman’s absolute trust and adoration. There’s a high that comes with being given that power. As a Master, it’s different. A Dom owns a sub for the time they’re together, or during a scene, or in the bedroom. For a Master,” he paused, as if considering his words carefully. “The girl is mine. Period. No time limit. No off switch. And when a woman agrees to be mine, she’s placing her heart in my hands and trusting that I’ll keep it safe. In return, I provide for her, I protect her, I control her pleasure, but I also give her pain and demand she take it for me.” His eyes darkened, she could almost see the sadism rising in them. “I take a lot, but I give more. There is no stronger bond. Not marriage, not fancy words or vows, not rings or matching tattoos . . . Nothing.”

Words swirled in her mind, causing a torrent of emotions. Being controlled and forced to take pain prickled at her inner feminist. Protection, trust, and admiration sounded perfect, but owning and mastering weren’t for her. Not only because trusting someone that implicitly seemed dangerous and unhealthy, but also that she just wasn’t into servitude. Fetching slippers, eating off the floor, following orders twenty-four-seven . . . She’d rather die an old spinster with an oversized collection of cat figurines than live at someone’s beck and call.

She sighed. “This is frustrating. Maybe I’m in over my head.”

“No. I think you just need someone to train you.”

She grimaced.

Chuckling, he added, “Someone very patient.”

“What about you?”

His brows shot up. “Me? I told you, I’m looking for a slave.”

“But yesterday you said you’d give me tips. Maybe we take this a step further and you,” the word was difficult to get out, “train me. Teach me what Doms want so I don’t keep ruining my chances.” Though, sucking knowledge from him wasn’t fair without offering something in return. “I could pay you,” she added, shrugging. “Or something.”

He scowled at her. “I’m not something that can be bought.”

“Oh.” Right. Idiot. She hated when men treated her like a cheap object, and she’d just done that to him.

“No. I mean I wouldn’t take your money. The idea isn’t bad though. I can teach you to submit while introducing you to some of my friends and making sure you don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Her gaze shot to his. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Yes, but you have to listen to me. When we’re together, you’re mine. You try your best, and you learn. You sure you want to do this?”

Was she? He’d take this seriously, she knew that already. Training. Like a dog. It left a nasty taste in her mouth. How could such a cool guy like Banner want that in a woman? But if she had to put up with a bit, in order to experiment with a skilled Dom, then she’d do it.

“Yes, but I have limits.”

“Of course. I do too. That’s what the list is for.”

“You have limits?”

“What? Because I’m a Dom I’m not allowed to have things I don’t want to do?” He tilted his head. “I’m a person first, Kate.”

She gave him a sly look. “Do you get a safeword too?”

“Absolutely not. My safeword is no. There’s no such thing as dubious-consent domming. That’s taking topping from the bottom to the extreme.”

“Huh?”

He sat back and sighed. “‘Topping from the bottom’ is when the sub tries to manipulate the scene or relationship and take control.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I’ll bet you’d be pretty good at that.”

She scowled.

“I’ll warn you now though. I won’t tolerate it. You try that shit with me and you’ll end up getting punished. If you don’t want to go that far, then we’ll have to end the arrangement.”

Still scowling, she asked, “So it’s your way or the highway?”

He chuckled. “That’s the way this works, pet.”

Mmmm. The way he said “pet” conjured up so many ideas . . .

She pushed those dirty thoughts aside. What was she—a teenage boy? Focus.

Was it worth it? Submitting to training, submitting to punishment if she wasn’t behaving to his standards? She shuddered, then hated herself for it. That should not be turning her on. She was philosophically opposed to this. A lesson on behaving more submissively, she could tolerate. Punishment and serious training was a stretch.

But, he was hot, and it’d give her experience to work with. Maybe, at the end of this, she’d catch a great guy. She didn’t want to die alone. Her biological clock was ticking. This wasn’t just about sex . . . Okay, it was a lot about sex, but eventually, she wanted a man who was as good in the bedroom as he was in the kitchen and workplace too. Did Doms make good fathers?

One step at a time. She gave her head a shake. “Okay. We’ll give it a try. So, what are you getting from this deal?”

He shrugged. “I’m bored, and you’re interesting.”

She waited for more, but he only stared at her. Was that it? Well, at least he hadn’t said he was doing it so he’d have something to go home and jerk off to. She grimaced. Even if it were true, she was glad he was too classy to say so.

A moment later, his eyes turned heated, as if there was something more he wasn’t telling her. She was beginning to be able to read his body language. When he relaxed, he teased her with his eyes crinkled at the corners. When he snapped into predator mode, his body tensed, his gaze grew sharp. He didn’t look her over like a pervert on the street. Instead, he held eye contact in such a commanding way that it froze her in place without him needing to utter a word. She could tell he was very, very good at what he did. Someday, he’d make a slave girl very happy.

For the next few hours, they talked about everything—their jobs, the checklist, stories from past partners. She was surprised how often he made her laugh, despite the stern look he often wore. He had a quiet humor that popped up at unexpected times.

When it grew late and she started yawning, they made a plan to meet up later in the week to start their training.

After he’d left, she crawled into bed, her body still humming with sexual tension. Her fantasy from earlier came back full force, now including more details about Banner: his smell, the way his arms flexed as he moved, the feel of his mouth on hers. She came loudly to the vision of herself on a leash, Banner holding the other end tightly in his fist.





Chapter 4



Rook stuffed his mouth with cotton candy, his black hair ruffling in the breeze coming from the roller coaster. He looked more relaxed than Banner had seen him in ages. The fair had been a good plan. Maybe mixing candy with rides wasn’t the best idea, but it was a sad state of affairs when a kid’s big brother couldn’t be a bad influence.

And on the subject of bad influences . . . Banner’s mind drifted back to Kate and their deal, and he checked his phone.

Nothing. He was starting to wonder if she was actually going to show up tomorrow. He’d sent a list of his expectations earlier in the week, and she hadn’t responded. Ambrose had insisted he send only one text, but her silence was tying him in knots. Should he make backup plans so he wouldn’t be sitting around alone, like a dork, when she didn’t show?

“You need to find a nice girl and settle down and have a couple of kids,” Rook said. “That would make Mom happy.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. Making their mother happy was a subject Rook brought up a lot. Definitely not something a teenager should be so worried about. Wasn’t he supposed to be working hard to piss her off?

“Rook, it’s not our job to make other people happy. Mom hasn’t gotten over missing Dad yet, and until that happens nothing much will cheer her up. Not counseling and not pills, although they help. She needs to decide she wants to live again, and we can’t force her to feel that way. Not even with a grandchild.”

There were still days when she went to bed with “migraines” and didn’t get up again until the next morning. It was hard on all of them, but on Rook most of all. He had Banner and Meadow, but even siblings old enough to be parents weren’t a substitute for the real thing. At least Meadow lived with them and directed the household staff when need be, but she didn’t understand their little brother. He’d thought about moving the boy in with him, but a teenager living with a bachelor would be a lonely life.

“Besides, I’m not responsible enough to be a father. Girls usually run screaming from me. I won’t be getting married anytime soon.”