Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

“Oh, no,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “They’re all quite functional, I assure you. When my owners invite me to their room, sometimes they request that I bring my own impact and bondage toys for a session—my choice. Also, as a resident house slave, I serve all the Masters and Mistresses here at the Masters Club. Sometimes they like me to bring them up to my room for a little private one-on-one.”

“Wow,” Rowan breathed, trying to imagine what it would be like to serve multiple Masters. She could barely serve the one she had.

What would happen when Master John found out about her disastrous first session? He would be so disappointed in her. Just the thought sent a fresh wave of shame through her.

Brandon’s face creased with concern. “Hey, what is it? What’s got you so down?” He moved closer, placing a hand on her arm. “Come here and sit next to me.”

They sat side by side on the bed. Brandon turned toward her with a gentle smile. “What exactly was the difficult start Trainer Eric referred to?”

Rowan looked away from his kind face, drew in a breath and then blurted, “I was super nervous, because I haven’t been allowed an orgasm for a while now.”

Heat licked up her neck as she said this, which was silly. Look who she was talking to, for heaven’s sake. As a full-time slave, he would surely understand.

She briefly described the scene setup and then explained, “I’m very sensitive to rabbit vibrators, especially when coupled with erotic pain. I was just praying that the clamps and keeping my balance on the beam as we moved would be enough to distract me.”

She frowned. “I tried to follow Cleo’s lead. She was amazing—so graceful, so self-contained, so perfect. I knew there was no way I could ever match her confidence and ease. Still, it went sort of okay at first. I was hanging in there, more or less.”

Her gaze slid away, her voice lowering to almost a whisper. “But then the trainer turned up the dial on the vibrator, and I totally blew it. I couldn’t control my orgasm. I lost my position on the beam, pulling Cleo along with me, and ruining the scene.”

Rowan blinked away the fresh tears burning behind her eyes. She sighed. “I can’t imagine what the trainer must think of me. I really wanted to start out well here, but I totally blew my very first session.”

Brandon placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I bet it’s not nearly as bad as you think. You’ve been here, what, three hours, give or take?”

Rowan nodded.

He snorted. “Cut yourself some slack, girl. Your first mistake is trying to compare yourself to Cleo. She’s a highly trained sub who does this for a living.”

“Maybe,” Rowan said. She bit nervously at the ragged cuticle on her left index finger, wincing as the flesh tore.

“Hey, none of that,” Brandon said, grabbing her hand and pulling it gently back to her lap. “You have such pretty hands. You don’t need to be worrying those poor nails like that. Yikes, that one’s bleeding. That’s gotta hurt, no?”

Rowan snatched her hand away, embarrassed. She sucked her fingertip and then slid both hands beneath her thighs to keep them still. When had she started biting her nails?

Jumping up from the bed, he wiggled his hips suggestively, a comical leer on his face. “What you need is something else to put in your mouth, girlie.”

In spite of herself, Rowan laughed. “Don’t count on it, buddy,” she retorted, almost feeling like her old self for a second.

He grinned, dropping his hand. “Just kidding. I have something even better. Chocolate!”

Moving to the wardrobe, he opened one of the doors. He pulled out a large, oblong black box and returned to the bed, setting it down with a flourish between them. Removing the lid, he revealed rows of beautiful chocolate truffles, some dusted in powdered sugar, some painted with intricate sugar filigree, some plain squares of dark perfection.

“Wow,” Rowan enthused. “Those are gorgeous.”

“Aren’t they?” Brandon replied, his eyes sparkling. “Nothing like chocolate to cure whatever ails you.” He pointed to the array. “That one’s burnt caramel, that’s cardamom nougat. This one is vanilla bean. That’s a chocolate ganache. That one’s hazelnut and this here is toasted sesame. Go ahead, pick whatever you like. Trust me, it’s way better than fingernail,” he added with a teasing grin.

Rowan’s mouth watered as she tried to decide. Finally, she plucked the chocolate ganache from its paper sleeve. It smelled heavenly. She took a small bite, unable to stifle a moan of ecstasy as the medley of flavors exploded on her tongue. The slightly bitter dark chocolate shell was the perfect contrast to the buttery-smooth, sweet ganache at its center.

Brandon smiled, cocking a knowing eyebrow. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rowan agreed, popping the rest in her mouth.