Claiming Cleo (Masters Club 2)

“No,” Jack said, patting the space beside him on the sofa. “Sit here beside me, please, Cleo. There are some things that need saying before we proceed any further with this.”

Cleo took her place on the sofa, her bare bottom perched on the edge of the soft, caramel-colored leather. She wrapped her arms protectively across her chest, her large blue eyes fixed on him, her expression curiously blank.

Her blurted remark about being set up had stung. But she wasn’t wrong. They’d basically tricked her into this arrangement. For a moment, he silently questioned himself for letting Hayden talk him into this crazy scheme. But no—he had walked into it with eyes wide open. One way or another, he was going to see this through.

“Look,” he said, resisting for the moment the urge to reach out and touch her. “We need to clear the air before we move forward. From your reaction back there, it’s obvious you aren’t exactly enthusiastic about the whole arrangement.”

Color rose in her cheeks, and she ducked her head. “I apologize, Sir. My reaction was inappropriate and disobedient. I will accept your punishment, if that is your decision. I am yours to command.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed with a half-smile. “But I may not choose to exercise my claim over you—not if it’s not something you want.”

She looked startled. “But the money you bid—”

“Will be paid either way,” he interrupted. “It’s for a worthy cause, and I’m more than happy to make the contribution. But this is about more than fulfilling the terms of a play auction.”

Shifting on the sofa so he was facing Cleo, he regarded her a long moment. He drank in her delicate beauty, memorizing the sweet curve of her cheek, the slight point of her chin, the large, china-blue eyes and the sweep of long, flowing brown hair. His gaze lowered of its own accord to her full, rounded breasts before returning to her face.

She stared silently back at him, waiting.

“I’ll be blunt,” he said. “The two scenes we shared last night convinced me there’s still something powerful and real between us. And make no mistake, I very much want these five days to find out if what we have goes beyond just a couple of hot scenes. I want to challenge you, Cleo, in ways I don’t think you’ve been challenged before. I want to take you to the very limits of your endurance, and then just a little bit past that. Your submission will require courage, grace and full obedience. I, in turn, promise to provide you with the full power exchange I know you crave.”

Though she remained quiet, something softened in her face, opening and yielding at his words. He was heartened by this, but not yet ready to pull the switch.

“As you well know, consent—true consent—is a basic and essential tenet of any successful BDSM relationship. You were right about being set up. Though the auction was real, you were brought in under false pretenses, and you have every right to be annoyed.”

He drew in a breath, letting it out slowly as he marshaled his thoughts. “I believe we have real potential as Master and slave. But I have no intention of or interest in forcing you into something you don’t want. We can part here and now, as friends, and leave it at that. It’s your choice, Cleo.”

Cleo was silent for a long moment, her eyes downcast, her expression difficult to read. “So, you’re saying I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to?”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying,” Jack agreed, though his heart sank.

A small pucker appeared between her eyebrows as she pondered his words. Finally, she lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “Mistress Dominique and Master Grayson asked me to participate in the auction, and I strive to obey them in all things. I understood when I agreed to step in that there was a possibility I might be placed with someone I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen on my own. That, in and of itself, is not a proper reason for a slave to decline to serve her Masters as they wish. So, yes. I will submit to the terms of the auction.”

“Ouch,” Jack said, wincing at her roundabout and rather lukewarm endorsement. But, hey, he’d asked for it. He wasn’t about to quit before the miracle, so he swallowed his punctured pride and managed a smile.

“Okay, then. I accept your terms, reservations and all. Now you can get one of those boilerplate contracts, and we’ll get down to the nitty gritty.”

Cleo rose gracefully to her feet and pirouetted toward the desk. Moving behind it, she opened a drawer, riffled a moment through files and then returned to him, pen and clipboard in hand. She handed him the clipboard.

When she started to kneel beside the sofa, Jack shook his head. “Did I tell you to kneel on the floor?”