Authors: Joely Sue Burkhart
He fisted his hands, fighting to keep the need from roughening his voice. “Don’t you feel how much
I
want her?” Barely, he kept back that he wanted to
hurt
her as much as he wanted her in his bed, but Mal knew the truth better than anybody.
“Hell, I’d have to be blind and dumb not to feel you two. You’re both walking orgasms waiting to happen. The sexual tension is only going to worsen your Master instincts. Why don’t you ease a little of that desire with her tonight?”
“It’s not that easy. She wants the Master.” Sighing, he pulled his hair tighter, letting the pain feed the need rising within him, buying him a little control. “I don’t know that she wants the man.”
“Are you crazy? Of course she wants the man. It’s the man who makes the Master and vice versa. She wants you, V. She needs whatever you’ll give her.”
Kimberly had loved the man but feared the Master. What if the man didn’t satisfy Shiloh at all? She might be so into the scene that she wasn’t interested if he didn’t have the crop in his hand, and right now, he was too raw and ragged to even think about bringing his weapon of choice into his bed.
“Do you want to play a few scenes with her? Have a good time and then go on your merry way? Or do you want a relationship?”
Shiloh blazed in the darkness of his mind like a supernova. If he had her to brighten up his life, heat up his bed, and smile that saucy little grin, he could die a very happy man. “I want it all. I want her.”
“Not even you can be a Master one hundred percent of the time. You need down time to rest and restore, and she can help you fill that well. If you’re empty and dead inside, you won’t have anything to give her in the scene. Give her a chance to know and love the man. Or…” Mal paused, waiting for him to meet her gaze. Challenge sparked in her eyes. “You can hide. You can keep secrets like you did with Kimberly. How’d that work out for you?”
He ground his jaws and bit back the curse. “It sucked.”
“Give Shiloh the crop for the show. You already know she’ll love it.” Mal gave him a hug and headed out the door. “Tonight, give her the man, and I think you’ll find she loves him too.”
Following the music, Shiloh found him in a large, darkly lit living room, flipping through stations on his Bose. A leather sectional was arranged before a massive flat-screen television on the wall above a gas fireplace, with more seating scattered throughout the room. He could invite his entire production team over to watch the big game.
“What’s your pleasure?” He glanced over his shoulder, mouth quirked. “For dancing.”
Suddenly as shy and awkward as a teenager on a first date, she listened to the different songs, even while it felt like she was sinking into quicksand. Here was another facet of Victor Connagher that she’d never seen before. It wasn’t the CEO of VCONN who grimaced at rap and tipped an imaginary cowboy hat at the oldie but goody Johnny Cash song on the country station. Every little element of his personality that he let peek out only made her want him all the more.
When he flipped over to Golden Rock, she said, “There, that’s good.”
He walked toward her. “I agree.”
Flickering firelight cast shadows across his face. Her tummy flipped and whirled as he took her into his arms. This certainly wasn’t the Master gliding to the music, holding her safe and warm against his heart.
Or maybe it is
, she thought, sighing as his fingers rubbed the nape of her neck. The strength in his hands was still there, and he used that controlled power with deliberate intent. His other palm spread heat through her shirt in the small of her back, his fingers wide, holding her close to his body.
“For the challenge tomorrow,” he murmured against her cheek, “pick whatever you like. I don’t care.”
She tilted her face up and searched his eyes. “For the final ‘Master’s choice’ bondage round?”
“I don’t care,” he repeated, his brow furrowed. “I’d rather see what kind of bondage you’re into, all right?”
She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and laid her head against his chest. “Even if I pick one of Patrick’s bridles?”
Victor blew out his breath loudly in a snort and shook himself in a very horse-like move. “I suppose I can teach you to whinny, but I refuse to get one of those butt-plug tails anywhere near you.”
Laughing, she rubbed her face deeper into his shirt. Chest hair tickled her nose. Breathing his scent made her heart tremble in her chest, her breathing catch and hunger unfurl. Her amusement faded, leaving her near tears.
She’d dreamed of being in Victor’s arms, but the reality couldn’t compare with those foggy, nebulous longings. She’d never thought he would joke and laugh, or that he’d hold her like this, swaying gently to mellow rock music.
“You know how I said earlier that you weren’t spending the night?”
She jerked her head back even while clutching him tighter about the neck. Her heart pounded so hard with hope that she swayed. “Yeah?”
“I was wondering…” He hesitated and his fingers tightened on her back, as though he was afraid she might bolt. “If I asked you as a man and not a Master, how would you feel about that?”
Confused, she searched his face, trying to figure out what he meant. Victor, the man, the Master, the CEO, he was all the same to her, facets of the man she ached to please. If he didn’t want to play out a scene first, that was fine, as long as he was willing to take care of that need eventually.
Soon, please God, soon.
“Or we can just save it all for the show.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but his brow remained creased and it felt like his body heat doubled.
“I’m not afraid of the Master or his crop,” she said slowly, noting the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the tightening of his mouth. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I know, but you haven’t seen the reality, baby. You haven’t seen me let all that darkness and ugliness come boiling out. I haven’t played Master in too long, and I don’t…” His hands spasmed on her back. “I don’t know how far I’ll go. The crop can make you bleed. I could split your skin open, just like Patrick threatened, and God help me, I’d enjoy every moment of it.”
She shivered but not with fear. “I don’t need the crop to love you, Victor.” She bit her lip, then, afraid she’d said too much. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, and there were certainly lots of things they needed to work out yet, but she had recognized a man that she could love from the very first minute she’d been introduced to him. “You’re a Master whether you have the crop in your hand or not.”
“When I’m the Master, at heart, I’m a sadist.” His voice lowered to a threatening growl that curled her toes and sent her heart thudding heavily with anticipation. His fingers closed on her right nipple and she trembled, her eyes falling shut. He pinched firmly, his fingers strong and sure, tugging on her mercilessly. “The sadist in me will relish hurting you while I love you. I can’t do one without the other.”
Heated pain bloomed in her breast—and shot straight to her core. It felt like he’d pinched her clit in his fingers, inexorably dragging her closer and closer to orgasm.
Over the years, she’d dated so many men who were tentative and too damned polite. Even her last serious boyfriend had never touched her with such assurance. As though he knew exactly what she liked, exactly how much to hurt her.
Exactly as Victor touched her.
Wet, hot, tight, she ached to fall to her knees and open his pants.
The thought pushed her over the edge. Letting out a laughing purr of pleasure, she sagged against him, nuzzling his neck as he scooped her up into his arms. “I can’t do one without the other either.”
“That’s why you have my word that I won’t bring the crop to bed, and I’m going to lock the sadist—and the Master—up as much as possible.”
She bit back her protests and let him carry her through his house. She didn’t need him to keep the sadist at bay. But Victor did. He thought he could lock away that side of him and pretend it didn’t exist. Jailed inside prison walls of his own creation, the sadist—the Master—the
man
—would simply wither up and die.
Luckily, she was pretty sure she had the key to those prison doors.
Chapter Ten
Victor carried Shiloh to his bedroom, mentally reviewing his old college playbook to give his body time to cool off. She was like molten fire in his arms, pure and hot and unafraid. She ought to be afraid. The first intimate caress he’d given her had been too hard, punishing.
Yet she’d quivered with pleasure.
She bit at his neck, nibbled his ear, and she might as well have been tearing a hunk out of his control.
The man
, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as she pulled her shirt over her head.
Give her the man, not the Master, certainly not the sadist.
Shimmying out of her jeans, she gave him that impish grin, her mouth lush and soft. “First one out of her clothes gets to undress you.”
The thought of her hands sliding into his pants… Growling out a curse, he yanked his shirt over his head but promptly stalled. Unhooking her bra with her hair tumbled down in her face, she suddenly looked shy and vulnerable, not the confident saucy little wench daring him to undress faster.
Biting her lower lip, she peeked at him, dropped the scrap of silk, and slid her hands down toward her panties.
“Stop,” he barked out. He jerked his hair tighter, giving himself a moment to find his center.
Get a grip, V.
She froze immediately, waiting with eyes down and demure like a good submissive. When had they switched from man and woman to Dominant and submissive?
As soon as you started yelling commands
, he reminded himself. He stepped closer and tilted her face up to his. “You’re not the Master’s slave tonight, remember?”
Relaxing, she laughed softly. “So when you start giving orders, I should just ignore you?”
“Absolutely.” He dropped his gaze to her breasts and felt his control slipping all over again. Damn it all to hell, he never should have waited so long to date her. He shouldn’t have waited for her to devise an entire show just to get close to him. Lightly, he traced the rounded outer curve of her breast with his fingers, trying to make up for the force he’d used earlier. “Tell me to fuck off. This is about you and me, not the Master.”
“But what if I want the Master to fuck me?”
He shuddered, his fingers locking her breast in a vise. Breathing hard and deep, he fought to loosen his grip instead of dragging her the few steps to his bed and doing just that.
“Sorry,” she whispered, hanging her head. “I have a bit of a potty mouth in the bedroom. If you don’t like me to talk dirty, order me to shut up.”
“I love it.” He finally managed to form a coherent thought. “It’s just not good for my control right now. If you have a truck driver’s mouth, I want to hear it.”
No, I want to kiss it
. He devoured her mouth, crowding her backwards toward his bed. Too fast, too hard, his tongue deep in her mouth but he couldn’t slow down. She deserved leisurely loving, a sweet and tender induction that she would remember fondly for the rest of their lives, not this hurried, frantic pawing.
The thin strip of lace about her hips tore in his urgency. Without the Master’s control, he couldn’t seem to control the man, and he dared not let the Master step forward for fear the sadist would rear his ugly head too.
Somehow he found himself on the edge of the bed first. Shiloh had managed not only to whirl him around but had also discarded his pants. Her fingers searched the ponytail at the base of his neck, trying to find the holder without pulling his hair. “It’s so tight. How do you stand it that way?”
“Leave it.” His voice sounded raw to his own ears, as though he’d been chewing rocks for days. She planted a knee beside his hips to join him on the mattress, but he gathered his wits enough to point at the bedside table. “Condom.”
She gave him a long look with her head cocked slightly, as though she saw through the thin veil of decency he managed to keep between her and the monster shrieking inside him. “I know your medical history for the show, and you have access to mine. There’s no need—”
“I insist.”
How could he explain that he needed the barrier? A reminder that she wasn’t his to possess and ravish at will? He always used a condom during a scene. Always. Slipping a rubber on for Kimberly had helped him keep the sadist completely hidden away, the small ritual a mental reminder of control. He needed to make sure he took care of Shiloh the same way.
Her mouth quirked and a suspiciously devilish gleam sparked in her chocolate eyes that made his balls ache even more. She fished a packet out of the drawer, tore it open, and calmly went to her knees before him.
“We’re not playing Master/slave tonight,” he insisted.
“So this isn’t the Master’s cock.” Wrapping her left hand around him, she leaned forward, deliberately breathing on him. It was all he could do not to fist his hands in her hair. “I shouldn’t worship it with my mouth first like a good little slave before you fuck me.”
Good God Almighty, it was so fucking hot to hear those dirty words coming out of her sweet mouth, to know exactly what thoughts were tumbling around in her mind. He’d never had a woman talk dirty to him before. Breathing hard, he finally managed to get out, “There’s no need.”
She smiled wickedly. Dreading—and anticipating—what she might do, he groaned. “I shouldn’t lick every magnificent inch? I shouldn’t make sure it’s nice and wet before I slide this rubber on?”
A threatening growl trickled out of his mouth. He palmed the back of her head and pulled her closer, letting her see the growing darkness in his eyes. “Do it.”
“Is that an order?” She licked the head, traced the slit underneath, and then used her lips to nibble her way gently down his shaft. “Because if this isn’t the Master’s cock, maybe it’s the sadist’s.”
She squeezed harder and slowly drew his full length through her fist. His legs trembled and he tightened his fingers in her hair hard enough she cried out. Finally, thank God, she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his tip before pulling back.
“Definitely the sadist’s,” she whispered huskily. “So big, so thick, you’re going to hurt me with this lovely cock, aren’t you, V?”