ARROGANT MASTER (6 page)

Dane slinks back in the chair, his brows coming together as
his elbows rest symmetrically on the wooden arms.

“You’re sure you’ve never been trained before?” he asks.

Not in a sexual way and certainly by choice. “Never.”

“Then why do I get the feeling there’s more to you than what
you’re telling me? Why do I feel like I’ve barely scratched your surface?”

 
“Maybe because
you’re not a man who trusts easily.”

I’m brazen and ballsy, but I get the feeling Dane’s a man
used to having his ass kissed on a daily basis. My fingers cross under the
table in hopes that he’ll respect me more for speaking up to him.

“You’d be right, Bellamy. But it doesn’t take a genius to
make an assumption like that about a man in a powerful position. The higher
I’ve climbed, the more I’ve found that there are very few people left for me to
trust. My inner circle is rather small.”

“Am I in your inner circle? As your concierge?”

“No. But you’re in a position of privilege in my life, and
you should be grateful for that.”

I roll my eyes on the inside. Dane needs to get over
himself. Then again, if I were as rich and powerful and attractive as he is, I
might strut around with an aura of arrogance too.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Shit. I thought I did
that on the inside.

“No?” I ask it, like it’s a question because I don’t know
and I didn’t mean to if I did. “I don’t think I did?”

Dane takes a heavy sigh before rocking forward in his chair
and rising. He towers above the desk, his jaw set tight.

“Stand,” he orders.

I float above my chair slowly as he wears a calculating
glare. “Let me just remind you that I haven’t signed anything yet.”

His fists clench though I get the sense he’s more sexually
frustrated than frustrated at me. “You have until the end of the day to officially
make up your mind as to whether or not you intend to be my submissive. Your
signature on these papers makes it official.”

“Understood.”

“Do you have any questions before I return to my business?”

I have a million of them, but all of them would give away
the fact that I’m a flaming virgin, so I shake my head no. A twinge of guilt
resides in my chest. I shouldn’t have lied about being a virgin, but he said my
job offer was contingent upon my answer, so I panicked.

“Do you have any last confessions or admissions you’d like
to share? I’m willing to give you a period of amnesty. Right here. Right now.
All confessed will be forgiven. I’m ready to move ahead with you, Bellamy.
Anything you’d like to get off your chest?”

I’m a virgin.

My family’s polygamous.

I’m selling myself to
you so that I may buy my freedom.

“Nope.” I flash a sweet smile. I’ve just confessed in my
head, and that’s good enough for now. Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt
him. And like he said,
it’s
only sex, and he likes his
life to be as uncomplicated as possible. I’m doing him a favor by omitting
those particular details. “I’ll sign the documents by the close of business
today, Dane.”

“Pardon?”

“Master.”

“Good girl.” His words are like the stroke of a hand atop a
dog’s head, and he leaves with a wide smile on his face, which I know is as
rare as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that a teeny, tiny
part of me almost enjoys making him smile.

I scan the consent form one more time, signing away every
part of me and initialing next to the kinds of things I never imagined myself
doing in all of my days.

I said I was willing to do whatever it takes, and I meant
it.

DANE

I hit the pavement with a steady gait, one that leads me to
the same bar in which I met Bellamy Miller. The fresh air works like a cold
shower, and damn, do I need one. It’s all I can do not to bend her over my knee
every time she dares talk back to me.

In all fairness, though, she’s not my sub. Not yet. As it
stands now, she’s free to speak to me however she pleases.

This day is going to drag; I can feel it from my clenched
jaw to the impatient ache in my cock. Every hour that ticks by until she signs
the consent form and N.D.A. will only serve to wind me up. It’s better that I
stay away for a few hours. Give her space. Give her time to consider the offer
a bit more.

“Mr. Manhattan. Was wondering if I’d see you this week.”
Matt, the bartender, greets me the second I step inside.

I slide across a barstool and fix my gaze to a T.V. screen
where a commercial advertising some miracle cleaning goop flashes with bright
blue and yellow letters. It’s garish and attention seeking, not subtle and
inherently elegant.

I like subtle and inherently elegant, and I’ve yet to find a
sub with those qualities. I’ve met many subs with daddy issues, subs who crave
every kind of abuse, and subs whom I wouldn’t be caught dead with in the light
of day. The good ones are always hiding in plain sight.

 
They’re the
sophisticated marketing executive or the wholesome, sweater-wearing
kindergarten teacher…

The ingénue drinking champagne on a Tuesday…

I glance to the left, at the very bar stool Bellamy had
resided in less than a week ago.

“You want to head back with your drink or you staying up
here this time?” Matt nods toward the back room where a plain black door with a
glass knocker leads to the Crystal Swan.

Some call it an underground sex club. I call it a secret
society, a sanctuary where gentleman of the elite variety can wash away the
day’s concerns with a bit of sexual gratification.

A strip club or a brothel it is not.

“Thinking about it,” I say, reaching for the crystal tumbler
Matt sits before me. I take a drink and let it sit on my tongue as I
contemplate my next move. I could easily head into the
club,
find a pretty Swan to lose myself with for an hour and retreat back to the
office.

But my write up is due for the quarterly stockholders
statement by close of business today, and I’ve got a four o’clock phone
interview with some solar energy newsletter out of Stockton, California.

Aside from my massive to-do list, I’m not quite feeling the
Crystal Swan today.

The same thing happened that day I walked in here. I had
every intention of heading back to the club for a bit of escapism, but then I
saw her.
Long, shapely legs.
Fuck me lips. And crystal
clear eyes round like two flawless diamonds.

I couldn’t think let alone speak for a solid minute. And
when I finally came to my senses, I did what I always do when I need to regain
control of a situation.

I became an arrogant asshole.

But then when she mentioned Randy had just hired her, and
Randy had told me the week before that he was looking to hire a new submissive sexual
concierge, I knew I had to have her. She was
all wrong
for him and sweet perfection for me.

The crystal tumbler is pressed against my bottom lip before
I take another sip. Matt made this one extra strong today as if I walked in
here with a big red stamp across my forehead that read, “SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.”

He knows me well.

“You heading back now?” he asks, pulling the empty tumbler
away and tucking it under the bar. “Jenessa’s in today.”

My mouth curls up halfway, but only for a split second. I’m
sure as fuck not smiling because of Jenessa.

“You know, I think I’ll pass.”

 
“No prob.”

I hand Matt a twenty and duck out of the bar, opting for a
brisk walk before returning to Townsend Tower.

When I’m back to my desk, I scroll over my email, sorting through
them in order of importance and ensuring that the ones marked as high are moved
to the bottom. I’ll deal with those last. Only pompous assholes have the nerve
to use a little red exclamation point.

My phone rings and the extension allocated to Bellamy’s
office flashes on my caller ID.

I cock the phone against my shoulder as I type a response to
an email from my brother’s assistant. “Yes?”

“Where’d you go?” she asks.

“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”

“I finished the consent form.”

I send the email and sit upright. It’s barely past lunch
now, and unrelenting excitement flows through me at the realization that we
have the rest of the afternoon to begin our training.

“Bring me the form, Bellamy. And the N.D.A.”

“Now?”

I sigh. “Yes. Now.”

She hangs up, and the ticking of the clock fills the silence
that consumes my office until the door flies open. I rise, fastening the button
of my jacket and taking careful strides toward where she stands in front of the
door. Paperwork rests between her thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll take that.” I place the papers on a nearby console,
next to the Baccarat crystal swan I received after completing initiation years
ago at the club. “Are you ready to begin training?”

“Yes.” Her lips press together as she tucks a strand of hair
behind her right ear. Her ears are bare. I’ll have to fix that. My eyes trail
down her long neck, the one I’ll
be tasting
sooner
than later. In a past life, Bellamy had to have been a royal, I’m sure of it.
Long neck. High cheekbones. Sparkling gaze.

“Pardon?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Very good.”

I circle around her as if I’m assessing her. And I am. I
listen as she pulls in a slow breath.

“Do you have any questions for me, Angel?”

“Not yet, Master.”

I can’t see her face, but if I so much as detect a smile or
a hint of laughter in her tone when she speaks to me, I’ll take great pleasure
in correcting her the best way I see fit.

“You’ll have a myriad of duties, Bellamy. Behind closed
doors, you will submit to me sexually. Professionally, you’ll act as a right-hand
associate. And socially, you’ll accompany me to events, dinners, and parties.”
I pull her hair from her neck and gather it in my hand, tugging it just enough
that her chin lifts. “You’ll carry yourself as if you’re the Queen of England at
all times. Head held high.
A pleasant expression on your
face.
The epitome of grace and elegance.
You
have it in you, Bellamy. I noticed it right away. You just need to own it. And
I will help you.”

I release her flaxen locks from my grasp and turn her to
face me. The gentle curve of her shoulders under my palms could easily become
my new favorite addiction.

“The sexual things you consented to are just a small part of
this arrangement. You should know that. I’m a man with a very particular sexual
appetite, but it doesn’t define me. And this shouldn’t define you either.”

“
It’s
just sex. I know.”

“Do
not
speak out
of turn, Angel.”

“I’m sorry.” She holds her shoulders straight though her
gaze falls to the floor. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“I’m training you now, breaking you in, but after that,
there will be no room for mistakes on your part. Is that understood?”

Her full lips part and then seam together. Instead of
speaking, she nods.

“I don’t want you afraid of me. Please. I would feel like a monster
if you were terrified of me.” I graze my hand along her collarbone. Her neck is
bare, but she belongs in diamonds. “You are mine. It’s my job to spoil you.
Care for you. Ensure you have everything you need. The world is your oyster
now, Bellamy. You won’t need to ask for a single thing because everything will
be provided for you.”

My hand cups the underside of her sophisticated jawline, and
I lead her face toward mine, inhaling her in like a full-bodied wine.

“I’m going to kiss you, Bellamy, because I want you to trust
me. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Master.”

My lips press into hers, forcing them apart and melding with
their heat. Two soft pillows provide a soft landing, and I take what now
belongs to me with an overzealous hunger. Our tongues fuse and flick, a slow dance
of the most titillating variety. I pull away, licking her exquisite
deliciousness from my lips.

“Has anyone ever kissed you that way before?”

Her head shakes from side to side. “I’ve never had a kiss
like that before, Master.”

“Then that was your first proper kiss?”

“It was.” Her tongue glides along the inside of her lower
lip. “Master.”

“Would you like more?”

“Yes, please.”

“No, no.” I push a firm breath through my nose. “You will
ask in the most refined and polite way possible at all times. Try again.”

“Please kiss me like that once more, Master.”

“Better.”

I step into her space again, gripping the back of her neck
as I force her up against a nearby wall. My lips crush hers all over again,
only this time I’m not hurrying. I’ll take my time, enjoying her sweet flavor
and velvet tongue, fantasizing about what she’s going to feel like wrapped
around my throbbing cock.

All in due
time.

Her hands lift, reaching for my arms, and her fingers press
into my flesh with desperate intensity.

“No, no, Angel,” I say, my mouth still locked with hers. I
grab her wrists and pull them down to her sides. Before I come up for air, I take
her full bottom lip into my mouth and suck before giving a tender bite. “You
don’t get to touch me unless I say you can.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“Do you want to touch me?”

I lose myself for a moment in the sky blue haze of her eyes,
and then I snap myself out of it. Distractions come in the form of a beautiful
woman. It happens. But I refuse to let it tear us out of this perfectly lovely
teaching moment.

“Yes.” She squares her shoulders with mine, keeping her arms
flat at her sides. Fast learner. Love that. “Please let me touch you. Please
tell me how I can pleasure you.”

“Do you want to pleasure me, Bellamy?”

“I live to pleasure you, my master.”

She sounds robotic. Unnatural. And I’m damn sure she’s just
telling me what I want to hear because she has no clue how this works.

“I’ve got my work cut out with you.” My forehead wrinkles as
I study her pretty face.

“Did I upset you? Am I doing this wrong?” Her shoulders
slump. She’s coming out of this like an actor exiting stage left. “I want to
learn, Dane. Tell me.”

“You’re doing fine, Bellamy. You’re still learning. I’d just
prefer if it felt a bit more…organic on your end.”

“Nothing about this is organic for me.” She sighs like she’s
upset with herself. “But I want to learn. I think I could learn to enjoy it.”

I knew training Bellamy would come with a few trying moments,
but a woman who’s not desperately throwing herself at me is something I’ve yet
to deal with.

“You say that, but your jaw is clenched tight.” I drag my
fingertip along her cheekbone and let it fall. “Makes me think you’re telling
me what you think I want to hear, and I’m quite certain you know damn well not
to do that.”

“I mean it. I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I’m
not about to start now.”

“Not everyone is submissive material.”

I slip one hand in my pocket and head over to my mini bar,
pouring myself a finger of single malt
Macallan
and
dropping in a small handful of frozen soapstone.

“I thought you were, but now all I feel like I’m doing is
making you extremely uncomfortable. Takes the pleasure out of this if I’m
honest.”

“You’ve trained other girls, right? I’m not the first?”

“Right.” I take another sip, letting it burn as it sits on
my tongue. After one fiery swallow, I add, “There was something different about
you when I kissed you. You kissed me back. You reached for me, wanted to touch
me.”

She shrugs. “Isn’t that what happens when people kiss?”

“I felt something from you,” I say. “I don’t want you to get
emotionally vested in this, Bellamy. That’s the worst possible thing that could
happen for you, and I’m not being glib. The last thing I need is you confusing
my kisses with something they’re not. Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to
come home with you at Easter. And I just can’t do that. I’ll never be that man.
Not for you, not for anyone.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks flash red. It’s instant. “Oh. No. No, no,
no. You do not have to worry about that with me.”