Finding Master Right (6 page)

He shoved her, and she fell forward, landing on her stomach over the bed. Then she was naked. There was something wrong here.

She looked over her shoulder. He lifted his hand, showing her a big, peeled ginger root. His grin was unnerving.

Then she was in his head, watching her from his point of view. Her eyes went wide with fear. A whimper escaped her. She felt the adrenaline shoot through his veins.

He let out a deep, sinister laugh, and she hid her face in the covers. Fear warred with excitement. As creepy as it seemed, she wanted this.

Holding her down with his giant palm on her back, he placed the ginger root at her back entrance. A scream tore from her lips.

Kate woke with a start. Panting, she sat up and surveyed the room in a panic.
What the fuck?
Light blue walls, a familiar dresser across from the bed, and a flowered quilt covering her legs calmed her pounding heart. She was home. No dungeon, no evil laughter, and no figging.

“Fuck,” she mumbled. Her breathing slowed. She checked the clock beside her bed. Five o’clock in the evening. Only an hour ago she’d laid down for a nap, trying to get rid of a migraine. She must’ve really needed it.

She took in other details now that she’d calmed down. Daylight was fading. Her stomach was empty and starting to growl. But more disturbing was the stirring the dream had left between her legs. It’d been a long time since she’d used her vibe. Her panties were wet and her clit throbbed. From the figging dream?

Ugh. There was something wrong with her. She groaned. Banner would be there in half an hour, and she still needed to get dressed and should probably shower this dirty feeling away. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to soothe herself. It only made it worse.

With a sigh, she checked the clock again. If she used her fingers, instead of searching for the vibrator, she could probably go pretty quickly.

She snaked her hand down her belly then underneath her cotton panties. For her, orgasms were more about the mind than anything physical, and Banner had given her imagination plenty of fodder.

She closed her eyes as she parted her lower lips and found her clit. A faceless man in a suit beckoned her from a chair. She glided to him, wearing a school-girl uniform, then stopped between his open legs.

“Kneel,” he commanded.

She sunk to her knees. The faceless man was replaced with Banner. His stern eyes stared her down until she felt like a little girl, helpless, willing to do anything to please her Master.

A moan slipped free from her lips as she swirled her finger into her wetness, and then circled her clit.

The man—no, Banner—grabbed a handful of her hair and tilted her head back. “What do you have to say for yourself, slave?”

It didn’t take her long to mutter the words, not when he was like this. She was already in for a heavy punishment. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

His sensual lips curved up on one side. “You will be.”

Heat rushed to her pussy, making the throb unbearable. “Come on,” she mumbled, running her fingers over her clit faster and faster. The time crunch only made her want it more.

Her fingers were drenched, making her slip easily toward her entrance. She squeezed her eyes shut then fast-forwarded her fantasy to what usually got her off. Banner pulled her over his lap. On the floor, right in her line of vision, was a steel butt plug.

Pleasure rose up from her pussy as she slipped two fingers inside. She was so close. Just a little more. She let her thumb stimulate her clit again. In her mind, Banner picked up the butt plug while he lectured her about her bad behavior.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She was on the edge of an intense orgasm, about to tumble over. Her fingers wriggled in toward her g-spot and—

A loud knock sounded at the door.

She froze.

“Kate?” Banner’s voice came from the other side.

Ugh!
She glanced at the clock. Of course he’d be early!

Panicked, she shot out of bed, wet and sweaty. “Um. I’ll be right there!”

In the bathroom, she scrubbed her hands, then ran back to her bedroom to throw on the first pair of pants she saw. She pulled her hair back in a messy bun before she flew to the door.

After a deep breath, she opened it and plastered on a fake smile. “Hi!”

Oh crap. He was wearing work clothes. A white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showed off his tattooed arms.
God!
Was he
trying
to make her come in her panties?

His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. Her face felt flushed but that shouldn’t have given anything away. She could’ve been working out, for all he knew. She peered down at her clothing for the first time since napping an hour ago. Jeans and a black tank top. Her nipples poked out like beacons of her guilt.

Shit!
She’d forgotten a bra.

“Um.” She covered her breasts with her arms, blushing even more. “Come on in. I’m just gonna grab a sweatshirt.”

“Okay,” he said suspiciously, then stepped into the living room of her rented condo.

She spun and made a hasty retreat into her attached bedroom. “Just make yourself comfortable,” she yelled over her shoulder.

In her bedroom, she grabbed her bra from the dresser and put it on, and then threw on a black camisole from her closet as she walked back to the living room. She caught sight of herself in the mirror as she walked by. Bright red face, a sheen of sweat, and rumpled clothing. She looked as though she’d just been doing exactly what she had been—masturbating while fantasizing about him.

“Everything okay?” he asked from the couch. “You seem a bit . . . frazzled.”

“It’s fine.”
Crap.
She couldn’t even look at him without picturing herself over his lap. This would never work. He was supposed to be helping her find out what she wanted, not stuffing a butt plug in her while she orgasmed. “It was a long day,” she said with a nervous laugh.

He nodded slowly, brow creased. “I’m sorry.” Patting the couch, he beckoned her. “I’ve been told I give a pretty decent neck massage.”

Nooo. Touching was bad. Very bad. How could she tell him she’d left herself needy right before he came in, and that now she was one small thrust from orgasming? “I’ll be fine. Drink?”

“Water, please.”

Nodding, she rushed to the kitchen. Two cold waters. Would he think it was strange if she dumped hers on her head? She gulped down half a glass over the sink and took a few calming breaths before returning with his.

He took the glass with a smile. “Sit down. You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine.” Even so, she sat in the recliner across from him.

With an eye roll, he leaned back. “How are you supposed to go over a checklist from there? Come on. I don’t bite.” With a smirk, he added, “Without consent.”

Reluctantly, she acquiesced. Would he be able to smell how horny she was?

Seeming pleased, he brandished a piece of paper. “I’ll skip over the extreme ones so I don’t shock you too much.”

She scowled. He didn’t need to protect her virtue. “You don’t have to baby me. I’m not completely clueless, you know.”

He arched a brow. “So your text about figging was a joke?”

“Shut up.”

He sipped at his water, his expression unreadable. “Be glad you’re not mine.”

“Why?” she challenged. “Slaves don’t talk like that?”

“Depends on the Master. But mine wouldn’t.”

For some reason, her curiosity piqued. “You’re a strict Master?” Shit—had that sounded too interested?

Shut up. Just stop talking now.
She didn’t need any more wank fodder. And anyway, she knew most Dominants didn’t tolerate mouthiness—she’d seen it enough in Chris.

He shrugged. “Some things are negotiable, but I doubt I’d be okay with my slave telling me to shut up.”

“Even if it was just teasing?”

“It’s about respect. I don’t think there’s any way to make
shut up
respectful.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Sure there is.”

He leaned toward her, seeming intrigued by her challenge. “Oh really?”

“Shut up,
Sir
.” She raised her chin, more than half wishing he’d paddle her ass. “See?”

“Brat,” he mumbled, but there was laughter in his eyes. “If anyone needed a spanking, it’d be you.”

Instinctively, she scooted a few inches away.

His lips curved in amusement. “Scared?”

“No.” Liar. “You wouldn’t do it without permission.” It was almost a question. Did she want him to? Fuck. Yes. No. Of course not!

“No. Lucky for you, I wouldn’t.”

This was coming awfully close to her fantasy. A picture flashed in her mind—Banner rolling his sleeves up as she leaned over his knee, her knowing what was coming but wanting it anyway.

She gave her head a shake and cleared her throat. “Um. The list?”

He stared at her a moment longer, looking as lustful as she felt. Did he sense a connection too? Or maybe it was all in her mind. A result of the dream, or her lack of vibe action, or the earlier migraine. Any of those excuses would do.

“Right.” He held the paper toward her so they could both read it. “This is a good start anyway.”

She scanned the list. Words she knew popped out right away.
Anal
.
Spanking
.
Leashes
. Those, she understood, had given thought to. Others, like
enemas
,
humiliation
, and
rape fantasies
, she hadn’t. Cringing, she turned away.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“Some of these are . . .” She paused. She didn’t want to offend him—the whole “your kink isn’t my kink, but your kink is okay” thing Janine talked about. “Not my thing.”

“We all have those. Which ones make you feel something? Something pleasant.”

Something pleasant? Right now, she just felt horny. Sorting out the cause and effect overwhelmed her lust-addled brain. She’d thought a checklist would make things easier, but in this condition, she could check off any number of things, and then kick herself for it tomorrow.

“Ugh. I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He took the paper away and turned toward her. “Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re not listening to your body. You’re in your head too much.”

No, that was the exact opposite of the problem.

“Close them,” he commanded.

She did.

“Take a deep breath.”

She inhaled then exhaled slowly, feeling some tension drain away.

“Don’t think,” he said. “Feel.”

“Okay.” Sounded easy enough.

He shifted on the couch, and his leg pressed against hers. His scent intensified, making her want to breathe him in and hold him there inside her, calming her, enticing her. The warmth from his body crept through her clothing, giving her that melty feeling inside.

Hot breath against her ear pulled her focus to him, only to him.

“Do you want to be spanked, Kate?” His voice whispered near her neck.

She fought to stay put when her instinct was to flee. He was too close, too . . . there. But she refused to run away from her desires anymore. She would face this head on. She’d stay in the saddle.

“I . . . I think so.”

“Good.”

The small praise made her smile, but she wiped it away, feeling silly. Why should she care if he thought she was good? She wasn’t
his
good girl. He didn’t want her.

Fingers touched the back of her neck, grabbing hold of her attention again. They dragged lightly across her skin, making goose bumps rise all over her body.

Jesus. Maybe he
did
want her.

“Do you want someone to pull your hair? To control you with their hand wrapped around your pretty ponytail?”

“Yes,” she said on an exhale.

“Very good.”

God, was there a kink for having a hot guy whisper dirty things in your ear? Because he could seriously check that one off.

Her heart fluttered. His fingers drifted up the back of her scalp, tugging gently at her hair. The small pains sent heat pulsing down her body, pooling in her pussy, where she was still feeling heavy and aching for relief. She sucked in a strained breath through her teeth. Her stomach felt like it had dropped out of her body.

“Would you like someone to take charge of your pleasure? Tell you when to come and when not to?”

She tried to think, but her head felt fuzzy, his voice too distracting. Her gut said yes, her clit throbbed, seconding that. Her voice shaky, she rasped, “Yes.”

“Do you want someone to master you? To own you?”

Her body shuddered uncontrollably.

He tightened his grip on her neck, almost as though he was expecting her to pull away. She didn’t.

“Do you want someone to put their collar around your neck so the world knows you belong to them?”

Her body was ready to agree to anything, but her brain made her eyes pop open. “No.”

Banner tentatively pressed his lips to hers. Surprised, she yelped against his mouth. It quickly turned into a moan, and her eyes drifted shut. He tasted as clean as he smelled. His mouth was soft at first, guiding her, teasing her. Then he took over, dominating her, forcing her to open for him. As overbearing as the rest of him, his tongue pushed into her mouth, making her take it, daring her to fight back. She did. He pushed her, and she responded by nipping at his lips and sucking on his tongue.

This time he moaned, and she felt some satisfaction in that. Her lips curved into a proud smile.

Wait.
What the hell was she doing? He wanted a slave. Not her. He’d never want her.

She pulled away, reluctant because it felt so good, but she knew it would end in heartbreak if she didn’t. She eased the small hurt of rejection by remembering she didn’t want him either. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

His lips, reddened from her mouth, were right there, still close enough to touch. She looked into his eyes, and he stared back with a hunterlike glare.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered.

“Because I wanted to. I probably should have asked first.”

They stared a moment longer, neither wanting to make the first move away from the other. His gaze dropped to her chest. She knew her nipples were hard. She could feel them poking through her shirt, sensitive and aching.