Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

She stared at him, stunned at just how far apart they were. It was as if the private island of their love had broken apart, leaving him on one side, her on the other, as the current pulled them away from one another. Yet, he seemed completely oblivious to the divide.

“You’re going to fuck up,” he continued blithely, oblivious. “But don’t worry. I will punish you swiftly and harshly, not because I want to hurt you, but because I want to teach you. You’ll have no more confusion, no more question about whether you’re ‘slave material,’ to quote those idiots at the Masters Club. You’ll know in your bones, in your cunt, in your heart and your soul that you belong to me, every bit of you.”

On some level, the words sounded sexy. They would have been sexy if they were something she read in a BDSM romance novel. But they didn’t feel sexy in real life. Not with the memory of her recent imprisonment still looming large in her mind. Not with this strong, determined man seated above her, holding all the power, power she’d given him. Not with the newfound knowledge her few brief days at the Masters Club had given her.

He regarded her expectantly. “You have permission to speak now. What did you want to say?”

What could she say that he would hear? That he would understand?

“I don’t think,” she began hesitantly. She started to bring her finger to her mouth, seeking the solace of a ragged nail to chew, but stopped herself in time.

When had she become this timid, anxious girl? How had things gone so far? Where had the strong, independent woman who had taken care of herself since she was seventeen disappeared to? Why had she willingly abdicated control over her life to such a degree?

She cleared her throat, determined to speak, to explain. She would just lay it out there. If she didn’t tell him outright, how was he to know?

“This isn’t right,” she blurted, determined to get it out. “The whole Master slave thing isn’t working for us—for me. I’m not happy. I’m starting to realize I haven’t been for a long time.”

She held her breath, at once thrilled at her own courage in finally saying what had been weighing more and more heavily on her, and terrified at how he might react.

Master John frowned, looking genuinely confused. Then his face closed, his eyes growing hard. “Don’t be absurd,” he snorted. Pushing back his chair, he rose to his feet.

“God knows what kind of gobbledygook those people crammed your head with. You don’t know what you want, little girl. But I know. I know you better than anyone. And I’m telling you, you were born for this. You’ll see. Once you’re properly trained, you’ll find the submissive peace and joy that comes from serving your Master with every particle of your being. I’m going to prove it to you, starting now.”

He looped his finger in the O-ring clasp at the back of her collar and used it to force her to her feet. Reaching into the pocket of his pajama bottoms, he produced her leather cuffs. As she tried to pull away, he grabbed her arms, holding her still. He was easily half a foot taller and sixty pounds heavier than she, every ounce of it muscle. He wrapped the cuffs quickly around her wrists, clipping them together before she could stop him.

“No. Please. I don’t—”

“Silence,” he roared, startling and frightening her even more than she already was. “Don’t make me gag you again.”

Placing his arm around her, he propelled her toward the bedroom. Once there, he pushed her down onto the bed.

His voice softened once more, though his eyes remained hard. “You just relax and think about what I’ve told you. Don’t move from the bed. I’ve got to handle this one Zoom meeting I can’t get out of, but it should only last an hour or so. After that, I’ve cleared the rest of my schedule for the week. I’ll do what I should have done from the start. I’ll dedicate myself to your training. Together, we will achieve your full potential.”

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Rowan lay in a kind of confused stupor for several long moments. Her brain could no longer make the connection between the wonderful, super sexy Dom she’d first met and this controlling, clueless guy who refused to listen to her, refused to believe there was any way of looking at things besides his own.

Talking wasn’t going to do any good. He was determined to do what he thought was right, however wrong it felt to her.

She had to get away from the man she had once thought she loved, but now only feared.

But where would she go? She no longer had a place to live, outside of this one. She’d quit her various jobs in the city at Master John’s insistence. While she did have some savings, it was hardly enough for the deposit and first month’s rent she would need. And what about her artwork—the dozens of canvases stacked in her studio—her life’s work?