Ultimatum(8)

“Please . . . Master . . .” I faltered. Would he be rough? Would it be quick?

“Do it now, Kayla.”

My legs shook as I moved clumsily across the room. He pressed a hand against my back, and my breasts and stomach slid along the satiny comforter.

“Spread your legs.”

On the verge of tears, I obeyed and opened for him. Chills traveled the length of my body; I couldn’t stop shaking. I jumped when he grabbed my hips.

“Arms straight out in front of you.” He massaged my sore ass. “Good, just like that. I want you to remain in this position, do you understand?”

I rested my cheek on the mattress as a tear escaped. “Yes, Master,” my voice cracked, and I heard the distinctive slide of a zipper, the tear of a foil packet. For several seconds I waited, barely breathing, muscles tense in preparation for his intrusion.

He glided his fingers between my thighs. Keeping perfectly still, I bit down on my lower lip. Unwelcome warmth flared again, and I prayed he’d stop caressing and just get it over with already.

“Please, Master, just do it.”

“Oh, no, I’m not about to make this easy for you.” He probed me with his fingers. “Do you know how many times I had to get myself off in my office after watching you prance around in your skirts?” He groaned. “You’re getting wet, baby.”

I arched my spine and bit back a moan.

“God, you’re so responsive. I’ve wanted you for such a long time, wet and on the brink, begging for release.” He plunged in, filling me with his pulsating heat, slowly stretching until I felt nothing but him.

I dug my fingernails into the bedding and closed my eyes in shame.

“If you come, I’ll punish you.” His breath fanned across my back. “Don’t disobey me.”

Yet the bastard took his time. I locked my jaw to keep quiet, trembled from the effort of holding back as he pumped in and out. I hated my body for betraying me.

It’s only biology.

I held on to that thought as he pushed deeper. “You feel so good,” he groaned. He increased his thrusts, exploiting a rhythm designed to send me spiraling out of control.

I fisted the comforter, unwittingly let out a long moan. “Master . . .”

“Don’t come, Kayla.”

I gritted my teeth and did the only thing I could think of to cool the fire. I thought of Rick. Replayed the day I escaped with Eve. I’d been two weeks postpartum when he’d beaten me in a drunken rage. Hours later, when I thought he’d finally passed out for the night, I’d grabbed Eve and hobbled toward the door. He’d come out of nowhere with the knife. Eve had been thrown into the corner, and I thanked God every day she hadn’t been seriously hurt, though a broken arm had been serious enough.

After a while Gage tensed and shuddered, and I knew it was over. For now.

He withdrew and disposed of the condom “You’ve got impressive restraint. Not many women can hold back so well, not that they come here under your circumstances. I suspect that might have more to do with it. You feel forced.”

My emotions were too close to the surface. On the heels of remembering in vivid detail how I’d escaped with my life—how Eve’s future had depended on it—my rage exploded. I whirled around and pushed him. “That’s because you did force me! Master,” I bit out the last word as if it were poison. “You might be able to elicit a reaction from my body, but you’ll never get the one you’re truly after. You’ll never have my eager participation.” I took a step forward, emboldened by the stunned expression on his face. “It was easy to control myself. All I had to do was think of my ex-husband and how he nearly stabbed me to death.”

Gage pressed his hand over my mouth. “I’d watch your tone. Don’t villainize me—you’re the one who stole ten grand. You signed the contract.”

I pushed his hand away. “What you’re doing is wrong, Gage. Punish me if you wish. Do your worst. You couldn’t possibly hurt me more than he did.” I turned my back on him, mostly because I figured it would piss him off.

I wasn’t prepared for his laughter. “I do love a challenge. Sleep well, Kayla.”

I hugged myself, and as his feet thumped up the stairs, I wanted to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep. He shut the door, and the sound echoed through the basement, through the empty chamber of my heart.





5. INQUISITION

The following morning Gage ordered me into the bathtub. He sat on the edge, instructing me on how he expected me to bathe daily. The regimen he wanted me to follow would take a nice chunk out of my mornings, but I wasn’t about to negotiate with him, not so long as the hard glint remained in his eyes. The new day had dawned with clarity; I’d gone too far the previous night. Now I had nothing to do but wait until he decided to dish out my punishment. My ass still stung from the one he’d given the night before—a constant reminder to call him “Master.”