Read Online Rude Awakening by Sam Crescent, Natalie Dae - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sam Crescent, Natalie Dae
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Master and his friends regularly clashed with them—arguments rife during the monthly discussion times after new subs were introduced—and nothing ever got resolved, no stalemate was ever met. It was one of the reasons Master had never taken Margaret to the club. He didn’t want Knowles and the like filling her head with insane information.
He stared through the glass, waiting for Knowles and the woman to walk away. She turned to face Knowles, a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck so he couldn’t see if she wore Knowles’ collar, the wool partially covering her face, but the slope of her nose made Master’s stomach contract.
Margaret?
He cocked his head, red-hot bile surging up and heating the back of his tongue. He narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to see the woman more clearly, telling himself it had been a trick of his imagination. She faced the shopping centre, head thrown back as she laughed at something Knowles said—teeth on show, neck on show…minus a collar.
Margaret’s teeth and neck.
Oh, no. That is not acceptable. You ran from me to him?
He had the urge to fly out there and confront them, reclaim Margaret and frogmarch her through the shopping centre and take her home, but he held off. There was another way to ensure she came back to him. He quickly formed a plan, biting back a cry of utter astonishment that she had possibly been seeing Knowles without his knowledge. For all his teachings, she’d clearly retained her original spirit, ignoring his warnings that once she accepted his collar, she was his until he said otherwise.
Who the hell do you think you are, slut?
And as for Knowles… He’d be having serious words with him.
Master trailed them for the rest of the afternoon, keeping an eye on the time so he could still collect his contraption. He needed it more than ever now.
Knowles played the perfect gentleman, guiding her with a hand to her elbow, holding the shopping bags and allowing her to walk through open doorways before he did. Master gritted his teeth, annoyed beyond measure that all his hard work was being unravelled so quickly. It made sense now, why, for the past fortnight or so, Margaret hadn’t been doing everything she’d been told. Knowles had already got his oar in behind the scenes, making her think what Master did was wrong, and she’d rebelled, finally fleeing. Master rebuked himself for the smidgen of worry he’d felt at the thought of Margaret being outside in the cold all night. She hadn’t been in the cold at all, but snuggled in Knowles’ bed, lapping up his attention and probably telling him what she wanted and how.
It wouldn’t only be Margaret who would pay, then.
Master kept a discreet distance at all times, and once, Margaret tensed, tilted her head and whipped around as though she sensed him there. He’d darted into a shop doorway before she had a chance to settle her gaze on him, and he smiled that he was still inside her head, their connection still in place.
You know I’m here, don’t you, bitch?
She shuddered and turned to face ahead, Knowles whispering something, then linking her arm with his. The man questioned her, and she shook her head, glancing across to smile at him—a smile she hadn’t bestowed upon Master since the very early days. A pinch of jealousy twanged then, to know he hadn’t been able to elicit such a response from her for years. Yet it was her fault…again. If she hadn’t been so bloody headstrong he would never have had to be strict with her.
After trailing the slut and Knowles up and down the centre for two hours, he pursued them out of the top-end doors where he’d first spotted them. His stomach clenched when he realised where they were headed—the sex shop where his contraption sat in the storeroom waiting for him to collect it. His blood boiled as he walked up the side street, the ground as snowy as his road, pedestrians not having been bothered to come along here. Their laughter drifted back to
He stared through the glass, waiting for Knowles and the woman to walk away. She turned to face Knowles, a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck so he couldn’t see if she wore Knowles’ collar, the wool partially covering her face, but the slope of her nose made Master’s stomach contract.
Margaret?
He cocked his head, red-hot bile surging up and heating the back of his tongue. He narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to see the woman more clearly, telling himself it had been a trick of his imagination. She faced the shopping centre, head thrown back as she laughed at something Knowles said—teeth on show, neck on show…minus a collar.
Margaret’s teeth and neck.
Oh, no. That is not acceptable. You ran from me to him?
He had the urge to fly out there and confront them, reclaim Margaret and frogmarch her through the shopping centre and take her home, but he held off. There was another way to ensure she came back to him. He quickly formed a plan, biting back a cry of utter astonishment that she had possibly been seeing Knowles without his knowledge. For all his teachings, she’d clearly retained her original spirit, ignoring his warnings that once she accepted his collar, she was his until he said otherwise.
Who the hell do you think you are, slut?
And as for Knowles… He’d be having serious words with him.
Master trailed them for the rest of the afternoon, keeping an eye on the time so he could still collect his contraption. He needed it more than ever now.
Knowles played the perfect gentleman, guiding her with a hand to her elbow, holding the shopping bags and allowing her to walk through open doorways before he did. Master gritted his teeth, annoyed beyond measure that all his hard work was being unravelled so quickly. It made sense now, why, for the past fortnight or so, Margaret hadn’t been doing everything she’d been told. Knowles had already got his oar in behind the scenes, making her think what Master did was wrong, and she’d rebelled, finally fleeing. Master rebuked himself for the smidgen of worry he’d felt at the thought of Margaret being outside in the cold all night. She hadn’t been in the cold at all, but snuggled in Knowles’ bed, lapping up his attention and probably telling him what she wanted and how.
It wouldn’t only be Margaret who would pay, then.
Master kept a discreet distance at all times, and once, Margaret tensed, tilted her head and whipped around as though she sensed him there. He’d darted into a shop doorway before she had a chance to settle her gaze on him, and he smiled that he was still inside her head, their connection still in place.
You know I’m here, don’t you, bitch?
She shuddered and turned to face ahead, Knowles whispering something, then linking her arm with his. The man questioned her, and she shook her head, glancing across to smile at him—a smile she hadn’t bestowed upon Master since the very early days. A pinch of jealousy twanged then, to know he hadn’t been able to elicit such a response from her for years. Yet it was her fault…again. If she hadn’t been so bloody headstrong he would never have had to be strict with her.
After trailing the slut and Knowles up and down the centre for two hours, he pursued them out of the top-end doors where he’d first spotted them. His stomach clenched when he realised where they were headed—the sex shop where his contraption sat in the storeroom waiting for him to collect it. His blood boiled as he walked up the side street, the ground as snowy as his road, pedestrians not having been bothered to come along here. Their laughter drifted back to
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