bend her over a barstool and drill her until he couldn’t come any
more, but he had to think of his responsibilities.
“Then let’s begin,” he said,
noting how she inhaled.
He spun Joanna in place, putting a
hand on the back of her neck and driving her back to the garage with purpose.
In ten minutes, his mission would
be accomplished, he was sure of it.
Chapter Three
They were going back the way
they’d come. Joanna didn’t understand. She’d been so close. She’d made all the
pledges. What had gone wrong?
What had she done wrong? She
didn’t dare ask the Master, not with the commanding weight of his hand on the
back of her neck, reminding her of his strength and size. He was taller than
her, all muscled power. That his touch could be so gentle just shook her to her
marrow. He could do anything he wanted to her, and no one would make a sound of
protest.
Her heart raced at that and she
smelled her own anxiety, even as she reminded herself that she’d surrendered to
him. She’d committed to a list of possibilities that made her dizzy.
So why were they going back the
way they’d come?
Joanna felt panicky, as if she
truly had been naughty, as if she was going to be deprived of the full
experience of the Plume. She wanted it now, wanted it more than she’d realized
earlier. Her resistance had frayed under the assault of the feathers, the
incessant tickling that made her blood pound in her ears.
She was his to take.
The Master was the stuff of
fantasy. His touch. His voice. His surety. His gentle strength and his
conviction that he could teach her to orgasm only on command. Tough and tender
all at once. It was irresistible. He was irresistible. Blindfolded and bound,
she felt like another woman, one whose life was outside of her own, one who
could enjoy a potent and forbidden kiss. A secret lover. A wicked game.
The fact was that Joanna had never
been so aroused.
But she felt the warm air of the
club fade behind them, along with the murmur of conversation. The tinkling of
glasses faded into the distance, the solid tread of the Master’s boots right
beside her. She heard the swish of those double doors, the ones she had passed
through just moments before, felt the asphalt beneath her heels and chilly air
collide with her thighs and breasts.
“Sir?” Rafael asked. The limousine
must still be there, even though it wasn’t running.
She sensed that the Master made a
gesture, because she heard a car door open. The Master murmured something to
Rafael, something that made the other man walk away, purpose in the sound of
his footsteps.
Joanna tingled. She was alone with
the Master. Maybe he was taking her to a secret lair.
“We’ll start our photo album by
recreating your arrival,” the Master said, his voice so low and melodic that
Joanna wanted to listen to it all night long.
Pictures? Photographed and
fucked. She’d agreed to that, in front of
witnesses. She opened her mouth to argue then shut it again, feeling a flush of
anger stain her cheeks. There’d be evidence of her being here, potential
material for blackmail…
But the fact was she couldn’t do
much to stop him.
She turned away from him, wanting
to run, but his hands locked around her waist as if he anticipated that. He
held her captive against the cool metal of the exterior of the car, his hip
pinning her in place. He was wearing leather gloves and a leather jacket,
encased in leather, its cool smoothness more exciting than Joanna had expected.
His erection was unmistakable and
made her thoughts churn.
She heard the door open beside
her, felt the Master ease her toward the opening. She couldn’t run, not without
being able to see, and she couldn’t free herself. She panicked slightly and his
hand ran over her in a smooth caress.
“Easy,” he murmured and his touch
both calmed and aroused her. He put his hand on the top of her head, pushing
her down. “Sit first, then swing your legs around.”
That he was protective of
more, but he had to think of his responsibilities.
“Then let’s begin,” he said,
noting how she inhaled.
He spun Joanna in place, putting a
hand on the back of her neck and driving her back to the garage with purpose.
In ten minutes, his mission would
be accomplished, he was sure of it.
Chapter Three
They were going back the way
they’d come. Joanna didn’t understand. She’d been so close. She’d made all the
pledges. What had gone wrong?
What had she done wrong? She
didn’t dare ask the Master, not with the commanding weight of his hand on the
back of her neck, reminding her of his strength and size. He was taller than
her, all muscled power. That his touch could be so gentle just shook her to her
marrow. He could do anything he wanted to her, and no one would make a sound of
protest.
Her heart raced at that and she
smelled her own anxiety, even as she reminded herself that she’d surrendered to
him. She’d committed to a list of possibilities that made her dizzy.
So why were they going back the
way they’d come?
Joanna felt panicky, as if she
truly had been naughty, as if she was going to be deprived of the full
experience of the Plume. She wanted it now, wanted it more than she’d realized
earlier. Her resistance had frayed under the assault of the feathers, the
incessant tickling that made her blood pound in her ears.
She was his to take.
The Master was the stuff of
fantasy. His touch. His voice. His surety. His gentle strength and his
conviction that he could teach her to orgasm only on command. Tough and tender
all at once. It was irresistible. He was irresistible. Blindfolded and bound,
she felt like another woman, one whose life was outside of her own, one who
could enjoy a potent and forbidden kiss. A secret lover. A wicked game.
The fact was that Joanna had never
been so aroused.
But she felt the warm air of the
club fade behind them, along with the murmur of conversation. The tinkling of
glasses faded into the distance, the solid tread of the Master’s boots right
beside her. She heard the swish of those double doors, the ones she had passed
through just moments before, felt the asphalt beneath her heels and chilly air
collide with her thighs and breasts.
“Sir?” Rafael asked. The limousine
must still be there, even though it wasn’t running.
She sensed that the Master made a
gesture, because she heard a car door open. The Master murmured something to
Rafael, something that made the other man walk away, purpose in the sound of
his footsteps.
Joanna tingled. She was alone with
the Master. Maybe he was taking her to a secret lair.
“We’ll start our photo album by
recreating your arrival,” the Master said, his voice so low and melodic that
Joanna wanted to listen to it all night long.
Pictures? Photographed and
fucked. She’d agreed to that, in front of
witnesses. She opened her mouth to argue then shut it again, feeling a flush of
anger stain her cheeks. There’d be evidence of her being here, potential
material for blackmail…
But the fact was she couldn’t do
much to stop him.
She turned away from him, wanting
to run, but his hands locked around her waist as if he anticipated that. He
held her captive against the cool metal of the exterior of the car, his hip
pinning her in place. He was wearing leather gloves and a leather jacket,
encased in leather, its cool smoothness more exciting than Joanna had expected.
His erection was unmistakable and
made her thoughts churn.
She heard the door open beside
her, felt the Master ease her toward the opening. She couldn’t run, not without
being able to see, and she couldn’t free herself. She panicked slightly and his
hand ran over her in a smooth caress.
“Easy,” he murmured and his touch
both calmed and aroused her. He put his hand on the top of her head, pushing
her down. “Sit first, then swing your legs around.”
That he was protective of
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