More than a Dare (Masters Club 4)

Her eyes had flown open to see Master standing in the doorway, his face dark with anger. “How dare you?”

Before she could react, he’d been on her, dragging her from the bed to the floor. He’d made slave m. buckle the ball gag around her own head and then place her hands behind her back so he could cuff them.

“You want to come so bad, dirty girl? Fine, then. Let’s do it.”

Master had inserted some kind of vibrating sex toy between the girl’s legs and flicked it on. Then he’d made her pull out the punishment box from beneath his bed—a coffin-like container he’d had built just for her.

Slave m. had been forced to climb into the box and lay facedown, gagged and cuffed. Then he’d closed the lid and pushed the box under the bed. Finally, he’d activated the vibrator with a remote control.

He’d left her there for hours.

Dahlia had been horrified by the scene, which struck her as abuse, and way over the line. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even now, over a decade later, it still made her shudder. At the same time, her body responded to the memory with Pavlovian desire. She slipped her hand between her legs, consciously shifting her focus from the disturbing passage to Hayden. Closing her eyes, she imagined him standing naked before her, that gorgeous cock in his hand as he fixed that sexy, burning gaze on her.

“Come for me, sexy girl,” he murmured.

With a small cry, she obeyed her phantom lover.

After her bath, she got into bed. Putting the story out of her mind, she reached for her e-reader and opened Ann Patchett’s latest offering where she’d left off.

After rereading the same paragraph several times, she gave up. She closed her eyes and focused on emptying her mind and relaxing her body. She visualized a deep blue ocean. The sand was white and soft, the sun warm on her face as she floated on the water. All was peaceful, calm and serene…

The slave was still in the punishment box beneath the bed.

Stop it. Let it go.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. One…two…one…two…

Shit. Had she finished that chart on Mr. Donovan? Should she get up and do it now? No. She’d had wine. And no way could she concentrate.

The radiator pinged and clanged.

She sighed.

Fuck it.

Throwing off the covers, she sat abruptly and put her feet on the cold floor. She couldn’t read, work or trick herself into falling asleep. What she really wanted was to melt into Hayden’s arms and lose herself in his kiss.

Why was she sitting there while he was just an Uber ride away?

“If you change your mind…”

She got to her feet, suddenly energized.

Forty-three minutes later, she rang his doorbell.

Chapter 7

Hayden was immersed in an article on the effects of obesity on bone metabolism when the doorbell rang. He looked up, his heart giving a leap before his brain had a chance to shift gears.

Dahlia!

He had reluctantly given up on the idea of persuading her to come over that night, and had already washed up and changed into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. He laid the medical journal aside and hurried to the door.

A look through the peephole confirmed his hopes. She was bundled in a down jacket, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, a determined look on her face.

He opened the door with a smile.

“Hi,” she said, offering a shy smile in return. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Opening the door wider, he gestured her inside. “Sleep’s overrated. Come inside.”

Reaching for her bag, he slipped it from her shoulder and set it aside. Taking her face in his hands, he dipped his head to kiss her. Her lips parted, her tongue meeting his as her hands rose to circle his neck.

He kissed her for a long time, first her mouth, then her neck as he breathed in the fresh lemony scent of her hair. He brought his hand to the back of her head. His fingers found the elastic that held her ponytail and he tugged at it, pulling it free.

Wrapping his fingers in her thick, silky hair, he used it to pull her head back as he once more claimed her mouth. She moaned against his lips, a tremor moving through her body. He wanted to command her to drop to her knees and take his cock into her mouth.

He controlled himself. Dahlia wasn’t a Masters Club pleasure sub, eager to submit to his every whim. But she had come to him, and he planned to seize this opportunity to draw her deeper into his world.

Letting go of her, he took a step back.

She opened her eyes, her lips still parted, her cheeks flushed. She was breathing hard, clearly aroused. She started to say something but he stopped her by placing two fingers to her lips.