My Secret Master (A Dark Billionaire Romance) (21 page)

She trembled; it went through her whole body. “I'm yours. Forever and always.”

Her swaying curves had gotten me hard earlier. The words she spoke now... well.

Nothing had ever turned me on so much.

Smiling, I helped Naomi to her feet. Bending near, I whispered, “The collar looks very fitting on you.”

Around us, people clapped. It was a polite noise, reverent. Under the buzzing hum, Naomi took a quick breath. “Can I tell you something secret?” she asked softly, so no one could hear.

“Yes. Always.”

She reached up, brushing the expensive surface of the collar. “Nothing has ever felt so right.”

My heart thumped, and I went silent.
She means that.

How had I gone so long, avoiding a moment like this? What had made me run from collaring a slave?

Staring over Naomi, taking in her proud smile, her glittering eyes... I realized what had held me back.

None of the others were like her.

Naomi was special; more so than I'd even guessed.

I'd fought the urge to claim my own sub until now, because none of them had been right for me.

I loved this woman.

God, I actually loved her.

Reaching down, I clasped her hand. It wasn't a normal gesture for a Dom, and I sensed how she stood straighter at the touch. But I didn't fucking care. Not anymore.

Even if this whole club crumbled... if my world was ruined, my secrets exposed...

I had Naomi.

And that was all I would ever need.

- Epilogue -

Naomi

––––––––

I
set the last of my things inside the cardboard box, hoisting it in my arms tightly. Seth had told me he'd send people to help me move, but I'd insisted I could do it myself.

I own so little, it only took me a few hours to pack.

Kicking my door open, I caught my reflection in the window. The image made me halt.

Even in the foggy surface, the glittering, jeweled collar was magnificent. The day Seth had locked it on me... it was one I'd never forget.

But, if I had, this over the top symbol of possession would remind me.

I'd explored it once I was alone. The smooth stones felt good under my fingers. The clasp was securely locked, a thing that thrilled me in a funny way. Seth owned me, and even if strangers didn't quite understand what that meant, they still had a suspicion when we strolled around together.

Perhaps they thought it was a gift from a husband to his wife.

Or that Seth is a sugar daddy.

Snorting, I carried the container down my steps. I was planning to bring it to the front, for when Corbin arrived. Out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention.

The flag for my mailbox was up.

I thought I changed my address already?

Setting down the square burden, I opened the tiny metal door. A collection of papers spun to the ground. Groaning, I bent to gather them up, shaking my head in irritation.
I won't have to deal with this anymore at Seth's place. Corbin probably brings the mail to him by hand.

Thinking about the fact that Seth had asked me to move in with him made me smile. It had been an offer I couldn't turn down.

Besides, in a way, I'd been mostly living in his mansion for some time already.

Of course, I don't look forward to explaining this to Mom.
She'd think I was nuts, or maybe she'd get a bit of greed in her once she heard how rich Seth Hart was.

Rolling my eyes, I straightened out the pile. It looked like everything was junk.

Everything but one envelope.

It had that official sort of crispness. I recognized the name on it instantly.

Dropping everything, not caring where it fluttered, I tore the envelope open. With shaking fingers, I unfolded the paper, reading the familiar words. Only, this time, what was written at the very bottom was not some cold rejection.

Seth had been right. His letter would do the trick.

I'd been accepted to the California College of Art and Design.

****

T
he scent of paint was strong in my nose, my mind bent to my work. I didn't hear him, didn't sense him, until he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. Warm lips touched my neck, his chuckle muffling my pleased gasp.

“Seth,” I laughed, placing my paintbrush on the pallet. “You surprised me.”

“Don't I always?” he mused, spinning me so he could taste my lips. Falling into his touch, my brain melted like candy in the sun. Releasing me, he stepped back so I could see his pleased smile. “That painting is coming along nicely.”

I stared up at the wall. It was one of the many stretches of white in his home—my home—that I'd been eager to get to work on. “You like it?”

“I do, very much.” Reaching out, he pulled me against him so we could stand and view the mural in comfortable silence. “What does it mean, what's its story?”

I gazed over the scene wistfully. It was almost entirely black, curling like fog that consumed everything. There, in the very center, was a white bird flying proudly. On its chest was a golden heart.

It would have been easy to assume the darkness was chasing the bird, harming it, but I knew better.

In such a short time, Seth and I had become incredibly close. He'd been my boss, my secret lover, my enemy, and then my Master.

We'd fought...

We'd fucked.

There had been nothing that wasn't hot and wild between us, good or bad.

I'd wanted to capture the soul of our existence. I didn't think the painting did it true justice, but how did you capture such powerful emotions in a mural?

Still...

I'd tried.

“It's a story about love, and not fighting it when it comes calling,” I said pensively.

Seth nuzzled my cheek, stroking my throat around the collar until I whimpered. “So it's a story about us.”

“Yes,” I agreed, proud he'd understood. “It's a story about us.”

Pressing his lips to mine, Seth smiled around our kiss. The wall held me up, his shadow blocking out everything but the fire in his stare. “I'm looking forward to our next chapter, little jewel.”

“Yes,” I said softly, touching the collar I wore with pride. “I am, too.”

This wonderful man wanted a future with me. We didn't need masks. We didn't need secrets.

In this confusing world, no matter how broken or damaged...

No matter what monsters hid inside our minds...

We loved each other.

And that was enough.

THE END

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~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

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A
USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite loves to write dark and filthy romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!) Her favorite bad boys are the ones with tattoos, the intense alpha types that make you sweat and beg for more!

Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she wants to share those stories with her audience.

Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially dirt, she's learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives her.

She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.

Not at the same time, of course.

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www.NoraFlite.com

Also email her at [email protected] if you want to say hello! Hearing from fans is the best!

-Nora Flite

Also from Nora Flite:

Outlaw Road

Exposing the Bad Boy

Last of the Bad Boys

Only Pretend

For the Thrill

For the Fight

For the Bond

Hard Body Rock

Slow Body Rock

Flawed Body Rock

True Body Rock

Watch Me Fall

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