Finding Master Right (Masters Unleashed 1)

“It’s still early in my relationship with her. I’m not in love with her. Yet. And I doubt she’s in love with me.” Ambrose sighed and shook his head. “Why don’t you just talk to her and try to work this out? You’re being an idiot. What happened to your interpersonal skills?”

“I’m not good enough for her,” Banner blurted.

Ambrose’s brows shot up. “Whoa. Fuck. Where the hell is that coming from?”

“Rook.”

Several emotions registered on Ambrose’s face in succession. Mostly confusion and disbelief. “Your baby brother, the kid who idolizes you, said that you weren’t good enough for Kate?”

“No. He said he thinks that was why I gave her to you. That I think I don’t deserve her. Maybe he’s right.” Banner wrapped his hands around the cup of hot chocolate and realized that his hands had gone cold.

“See? Now that’s love talking. It’s a crazy, creepy love. But it’s love. You can work on your shit. She’s a patient girl.”

Banner considered that, but the truth was his crap shouldn’t be her problem. She was a counselor, but it wasn’t fair to expect her to be his counselor.

He struggled for words, but he drew a blank. “If you love something, set it free.”

Ambrose growled in exasperation. He crumpled a piece of paper and threw it at Banner’s face. It bounced off and landed in his lap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re right. You are an idiot. You don’t deserve her.”

Banner brought his hand up to his chest, feeling as though he’d been stabbed.

Ambrose pushed his chair back, rose, and walked out.

Chapter 15

“That’s good. Now open them wider.” Ambrose bent down and tapped her thigh with his forefinger.

Kate rolled her eyes but complied. How long had they been doing this? Positions, protocol, form. She felt as if she were in fucking ballet class or something. Even Banner wasn’t this picky. Why did it feel like Ambrose was stalling? They hadn’t even played yet. No sex, no bondage, not even any spanking. Fuck, she hadn’t even taken her clothes off in front of him yet! Was the man a eunuch?

Ambrose nodded in approval, then sat back in the recliner, leaving her on the carpeted floor. “You’re a quick learner.”

“We’ve only been doing it a month,” she muttered.

He didn’t hear her, or at least pretended not to. She waited, impatiently, for his next command, trying her best to look sexy and desirable. With Banner, big doe eyes always worked. She looked up at him, widening her eyes, and bit her lip.

He looked interested for a moment. Hope blossomed. But then his expression went blank again and he said, “Will you get me a soda from the fridge, love?”

Her shoulders sagged, and she stifled a disappointed sigh. She hadn’t signed up to be a service sub, but at least it was something to do. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she grumbled as she rose from the floor.

The sarcastic remark would’ve earned a punishment with Banner. Of course, with Banner he wouldn’t be wasting their time together having her fetch him drinks. And if he had happened to ask it of her for some reason, she didn’t think she would have minded.

Ambrose only chuckled at her brattiness. She threw him a glare, hoping to get a rise out of him, something, anything. Things had grown stale between them fast. They’d had chemistry to start. He was Dommy like Banner had said, but they never actually did anything. It was just instruction. Over and over. He nitpicked every form, every position, every action. Frustration was mounting. If she didn’t masturbate to thoughts of Banner nearly every night, she’d have died from boredom by now.

She walked back into the living room to see the TV had been turned on and fought the urge to chuck the bottle of Jennings Cola at his head. Why didn’t he want to have sex? Was she unattractive? Did she smell bad?

Sighing, she knelt back on the floor. Ambrose was watching the nature channel. Something about ant communities.

I can’t believe I shaved my legs for this.

He’d wined and dined her. He was charming and funny and freakin’ hot. The first couple weeks, he’d taken her through his rules and the positions he preferred for his subs. She’d done exactly what Banner had taught her—complied with minimal resistance, acted submissive, asked what she should wear. But then things just stalled. Ambrose wasn’t as controlling as Banner, which was exactly what she wanted. Or so she’d thought.

But now she craved dominance. And not in the form of how many inches apart her knees should be when kneeling. She wanted a rough hand in her hair. She wanted to be bent over something and threatened. She even wanted to hear the sound of a belt being pulled from its loops. She could almost smell the leather, hear Banner’s ominous footsteps as he walked toward her.

Ambrose felt more like her teacher than her Dom. He didn’t take control like Banner did. He didn’t demand her submission. And he definitely didn’t take ownership of her.

God, she was losing her mind. Being owned was exactly what she’d been protesting—the whole reason she and Banner could never work. Maybe it was sexual frustration making her yearn for a Master. For Banner’s mastery. For the click of the leash onto the collar around her neck. His collar.