Master Me (2 page)

He inched down the cotton, revealing the upper swell of her ass. Now he,
he
had a fetish. It was called Ana’s ass and he’d had it since the first time he’d seen her in short shorts, his freshman year of college. She’d still been a junior in high school.

Untouchable. He’d let her remain that way all these years.

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Master Me

No more.

“Max, please don’t,” she whispered.

“You want me to, don’t you?” He tightened the arm braced across her back.

Tugging on her panties, he revealed another inch of perfect ivory skin. He hardened at the thought of it pinkened by his mark.

“Yes,” she admitted. “But…we shouldn’t.”

“I disagree. I should have taken you in hand a long time ago. It would have saved me a lot of headaches while you’ve run around.” At the thought of her with other men, he yanked the cotton to her upper thighs.

“Max.”

Sweet heaven, her ass was beautiful.

“Silence, slave,” he ordered.

“Max,” she protested again.

“Silence!” He accompanied his order with a resounding smack across her firm buttocks. Ana cried out in surprise and immediately tried to squirm away. He held her still, leaning slightly on his arm and tightening his legs to keep her from kicking.

“Stay still and take your punishment for not listening to me.” Smack. “You could have been hurt.” Smack. With each fall of his hand, she muffled her cries. He rubbed his palm over her swiftly reddening ass. Pulling back, he again slapped her behind. This time, her groan broke loose. A distinctly aroused groan. Good. That was where he’d been heading with this. Pain was not his objective with this punishment. Soon, the heat from his spanking would travel from her rear and into her cunt. Then she’d be moaning her need as her cleft dampened his thigh. He resisted the urge to slide his fingers between folds and find her molten honey.

“Did Tyler ever spank you?” he asked, clapping his hand on her again.

“No,” she managed around her groan.

“Has anyone?” He caught his next blow in the crease where her thighs met her ass.

11

Brynn Paulin

“No. Oh God, Max. I—”

She needed him to touch her, probably as much as he wanted to. Not yet. He gave her ass a few more swats until she was sobbing her arousal as strongly as if he plowed his cock into her pussy.

“Did you fuck him?” he demanded.

She didn’t answer. He tilted to look at her face but found it hidden behind a curtain of hair. His belly tightened, yanking at his groin. The sight of her inky locks pooled on his white carpet captivated him. He wanted to see her curls spread around her head as he laid her on that carpet and sank into her.

“Anastasia?” he prompted. He stroked his hand over her reddened buttocks. Heat radiated into his hand. She’d remember this every time she sat for the next few days.

Good. He didn’t want her running to another jerk. She needed someone who’d take her in hand. Someone who’d take care of her submissive needs.

For now, it seemed that task fell to him.

Reaching into the drawer of the table beside the couch, he removed balm to rub over her bottom. It wouldn’t soothe. Instead, it would intensify the heat flooding her body without hurting her.

“Did you fuck him?” he asked again as he spread the balm over her.

“No,” she breathlessly admitted.

“No? I thought you’d been his slave for a whole week.”

“I was—Max, what the hell is that?” she demanded as the burn sank into her skin.

She whimpered, making gasping little cries that drove him insane. He’d bet her cleft was flooding. The sheer temptation to check was almost too much.

“You were telling me about Tyler,” he reminded.

“He didn’t fuck me.” Her bottom quivered as her body lifted and fell with her aroused pants as he smoothed the balm between her ass cheeks. One hand clenched around his ankle. “He preferred to subjugate. I knelt and waited while he rested his feet 12

Master Me

on me. Sometimes, he wanted to watch while I played with myself. He seemed to really get off on that but it didn’t do much for me.”

Now that would have been fucking hot to see, not that it made Max happy. Of course, he was thrilled she hadn’t fucked that bastard. Hell, with her sprawled across his leg, he didn’t know what he thought.

Her fingernails bit into his ankle as she remembered. “He had two other slaves, too.

We weren’t allowed to speak or even look at each other. Their unhappiness should have been my first clue. But I didn’t go. I think he meant to sleep with me last night—after God knows who else did.”

He scowled at the undesirable vision of her body dripping with semen. Tyler didn’t bother with using protection and Max was fairly certain he didn’t enforce it with others either. Max circled her puckered anus with his fingertip. He wasn’t sure Tyler would even make them use lube.

Ana shied away from his caress. “Damn it, Max. Stop.”

He frowned. Pulling his hand away, he gave her one last swat across her ass. This time combined with the balm, the stroke would skyrocket through her. She screamed, going up on her toes and clawing the carpet.

“Again. Oh please, again,” she begged.

He pulled up her panties and straightened her skirt. He didn’t want her to come just yet. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tomorrow, after work…if she accepted his proposition.

Guiding her upright, he turned her to face him and cupped the back of her supple thighs. Her tear-stained cheeks tightened his balls.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about myself. Something I’ve hidden all these years,” he told her.

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Brynn Paulin

Not at all cowed despite the spanking, she gave him a look that clearly said “duh”.

She’d be the perfect submissive for some man. Spunky and full of spirit, yet willing to bend to her Dom’s needs.

“So I gathered,” she replied, her dry tone in opposition to her shuddering arousal.

“Why, Max? I’ve told you everything.”

“It’s not something I share with many people. I’m not ashamed of who I am. I grew up this way. For me, for my family, this way of life is normal. Most people just don’t understand.”

“You thought I wouldn’t understand. Damn it, Max.”

“Anastasia,” he warned.

“Sorry.” She bowed her head, then her gaze snapped up full of pained betrayal.

“You didn’t think
I
’
d
understand this?” she hissed. “I told you I thought I was a sub. I told you the deep desires inside me. What I
needed
. And you hid this?”

“You said it earlier, ‘but not with you’. You didn’t want me to be this person. To you I’m just Max. Laid-back, nice-guy Max. You never wanted to see me any other way.

Instead you fell for every asshole who crossed you path. I’ve watched it long enough.

It’s time you start thinking of me another way.”

Defiance flashed in her eyes. “And how is that?”

“You need training. I’m the most obvious person to give it to you before you dig yourself into a situation where you’ll get hurt.” He curled his fingers into her lush ass, drawing a moan from her as he pulled her close enough to smell her heady arousal. “To you, I will be Master, at least temporarily. You are my slave. When the time comes, I will help you find a Dominant who will fit your needs.”

“Do I get a choice in this?”

He dropped his hands, sliding his fingertips down her thighs on the way. “Of course you have a choice. Kneel. I’ll talk.”

Indecision filled her eyes, along with confusion.

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Master Me

He stared at her impassively, waiting. She had to make this decision on her own. It was the first of several to come and he wouldn’t influence it.

Slowly, still looking unsure, she backed away from him and dropped to her knees, her arms crossed over her chest. He eyed her stiff closed-legged stance and fisted hands.

Just as he’d suspected. Tyler hadn’t taught her anything.

Max stood. He prodded her knees apart with his foot. “When we are alone and I tell you to kneel, your knees will be apart. Likewise when you sit. When you stand, your feet will be shoulder-width. Do you understand?”

One finger uncurled from her fist and tapped on her arm.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“You will refer to me as Master unless I give you permission to address me otherwise.”

The finger tapped a little faster and she made an unimpressed face. “Yeah. Master.”

He sighed silently. She would be difficult—if she decided to let him train her. That remained to be seen.

He crouched in front of her. Gently, he unfolded her arms and pushed them behind her back so that her hands rested on her beautiful ass, her right hand holding her left wrist. Now she could tap that damn finger all she wanted and he wouldn’t see it.

Unless he was behind her. Suddenly the thought of mounting her from behind punched a hole in his middle. Yeah, he needed to do that.

Standing, he squashed the need to bend her forward, shove up her skirt and take her right now. Not until tomorrow…not until she’d thought about this.

He tipped her head slightly forward. If she raised her eyes she’d still see him clearly. She kept her gaze militantly focused on his toes. Ugly trepidation clawed up his spine. Max suspected maybe he might have totally fucked up their long-standing friendship.

15

Brynn Paulin

He couldn’t hide his nature anymore and watch Ana continue to hurt herself.

Silence surrounded them while he waited for her acceptance. He suspected she was waiting for something from him as well. An apology? He wouldn’t apologize for what he’d done. This was who he was.

Swallowing his misgivings, he stepped from her line of sight. He was a Dom. He naturally took charge and she was a natural submissive. This is how it was supposed to be with them, how it had always been on some levels. The sooner she accepted that the sooner they could open their relationship to levels she’d only imagined.

He trailed his fingers over her silky curls. “When I tell you to kneel, this is the position I require.”

Ana didn’t reply.

“When I tell you to kneel, you will immediately comply.”

She drew in a shaking breath, holding it for a moment before she released it. Again, she said nothing. Anger rolled from her, yet she held herself in check and maintained the position he’d dictated.

Ana fought the urge to clench her fists as Max watched her. She couldn’t see him now that he’d moved just behind her right side. Nevertheless she could feel him.

Watching her. Her mind raced as she tried to catch up with the events of the past minutes. Max—laid-back, funny, kind
Max
—was a Dom? Everything she thought she knew about him said no way, yet the past half-hour didn’t lie. He wasn’t faking this.

There was no role-playing. Max had emerged and shown her his true nature and revealed a skin far more suited to him than that of the man she’d always known.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, it rang true to what she knew. Bits and pieces of their past settled into place. Max took gentle control of every situation. He wasn’t pushy or obnoxious about it. He had an air of authority to which people, men and women alike, naturally deferred.

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Master Me

Even her. Especially her. She’d wanted him since she was a sophomore in high school. He’d been a senior forced into tutoring math because of some prank he’d pulled.

It soon became evident she was better at math than he was, still, they’d become fast friends. She’d learned to hide her desire for him in order to retain hold of her prized position at his side. As one of his closest friends, she’d always had more pull with him than any of the sundry girlfriends who’d waltzed in and out of his life.

Yet he’d hidden this.

Betrayal and anger fought inside her before aligning in a single-minded frenzy of hurt. She had to hold back her reaction or she’d explode in a flood of recriminations.

Had he been sitting back and laughing the whole time she’d been rhapsodizing about thinking she’d really be into the D/s scene?

“I’m leaving,” she said, lifting her head and flexing her toes into the carpet in preparation to rise.

“Stay still.”

She ignored him and started to get up. He pressed his hand to her shoulder.

“Anastasia, stay where you are or I swear I will restrain you.”

Restrain? She almost swore at the rush of moisture to her cleft. Damn it. She couldn’t be aroused by him. He was an asshole. A freaking asshole who’d lied to his friends.

She tried to shrug off his hand but he tightened his grip.

“Let me go.”

He crouched behind her, his knees bracketing her sides and trapping her arms between them. Damn it. Why hadn’t she moved them when she’d decided to go? He slid his around her, one around her middle and one over the top of her breasts. She found herself wrapped in Max, enveloped by his deep woodsy scent. His lips brushed her ear. “You don’t give the orders here, slave.”

17

Brynn Paulin

“I’m not your slave,” she murmured, unable to place much conviction in her words.

A wicked part of her had wanted that from the first time she’d encountered writings on Dominant/submissive relationships. For years she’d squelched that desire. She’d thought Max wasn’t into that so she’d explored her own options. Damn him.

His presence elicited long-suppressed responses in her middle. If his hand was to drift down a few inches, she knew he’d find her pebble-hard nipples. She struggled to hide her arousal and the moan that threatened when his equally hard cock brushed her trapped hands.

“That remains to be seen,” he replied, tightening his hold when she tried to squirm from him.

She had to get out of here.

“Max, let me go. I mean it. I’m pissed at you and this isn’t helping. How could you keep this from me all this time? I’ve told you everything. And you knew what I was searching for. You could have helped me but you didn’t. You let me flounder along and make a fool of myself.”

He nuzzled her cheek, unaffected by her tirade. “And here I thought you were most pissed because I spanked you.”