Beck And Call (15 page)

his blunt words both shocked and aroused her. Her eyes

practically rolled back in her head. When he’d taken

her before—when she’d been bound and gagged—that

had blown his mind. He couldn’t imagine what it would

be like to fuck these unyielding muscles. Waiting would

be sweet agony, but to have her prepared was worth it.

He lifted her hips and positioned his cock to reclaim

her pussy. With a small moan, she lowered her head to

the pillow, submitting to his cock.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “I’ll push you beyond

what you think you can handle, Serena, but I won’t

hurt you.”

“I know, Master,” she whispered, accepting another

thrust. “I know.”

****

an identical vase to the one he’d sent to her office.

Smiling, she sat up and realized that the cuffs were off

her wrists and ankles. Looking around the room, she

sighed. No wonder he wasn’t worried about her getting

clues to his identity. The only furniture in the room was

the bed and the two nightstands. The bed linens were

brown as were the curtains. There was a lamp on each

nightstand, but that was it. There was nothing else in

the room besides the rose in its vase and the note

propped up against it.

Reaching for it, she sighed again. He’d typed it.

Serena,

Take a shower in the adjoining bathroom. The other

door leads into the playroom. The code that opens the

playroom door will remain a secret for now. Yes,

essentially, you are my prisoner until Sunday night.

The very thought makes my cock harden enough to fuck

you right now. But you need your sleep. So I will let you

sleep.

Take your shower, drying your hair if you choose.

There are no clothes for you. I want to see every inch of

you. When you are ready, come into the playroom where

I will be waiting for you. Stay silent as you enter. Come

sit on the stool next to my chair.

I will then give you your next lesson in being my

submissive.

Master

Serena hugged the note to her chest. It might not

go down in history as one of the top letters of love or

lust, but it told her so many things about him. That he

wanted her, but was more concerned about her. That he

wanted to see her nude. A dark, delicious thrill shot up

and down her spine—he considered her his prisoner,

even if just until Sunday night. His prisoner.

“Serena Marie, you better hope your mother never

finds out about this,” she told herself, climbing out of

bed. “She’d probably have a heart attack or refuse to

acknowledge you as her daughter.” Going to the open

door where she could see a tile floor, she could just

picture her mother’s face. She didn’t know whether to

laugh or wince. She loved her mother dearly, but they

had grown up in very different generations and lived in

very different, if co-existing, worlds.

The enormity of what she had done, had committed

to, struck her. She accepted it with all its implications.

If her family ever found out, she could never go home.

At work, she would be forced to resign. What little social

life she had, mostly volunteering at the hospice, would

also be over. Serena accepted all of it. For him. Because

of him.

Her body wasn’t hers anymore. As he’d said in the

elevator, she was his. Completely. Whatever he wanted

to do with her, she would allow. She would trust him to

protect her outside the sexual domination he had over

her. She had to.

“Oh, my Lord,” she breathed, catching sight of her

reflection.

Her usually creamy skin was rosy from rough

caresses. Her lips were puffy from his kisses and her

pale green eyes glowed with sexual satisfaction.

Turning around, she saw the faint prints of the paddle

on her ass. Examining her wrists and ankles, she was

relieved to see that the cuffs hadn’t left any marks that

wouldn’t fade. The cushioned socks she wore for her

workouts left deeper impressions.

The bathroom was supplied with products she had

read about in high-society magazines, and she couldn’t

wait to try them all. Luxuriating in the hot water that

beat down on her aching muscles, she washed,

shampooed, and took advantage of the shaving gel and

razor. She’d shaved that morning, but the idea of

Master touching stubble wasn’t to be contemplated.

After drying off, she rubbed rich lotion all over her body

before using the blow dryer’s diffuser on her hair.

Wishing desperately for some cosmetics, she smoothed

out her brows and pinched her cheeks to put some color

in them. Lifting her chin, she headed for the playroom

door.

Keith sat quietly at the window, watching the

sunset. So far, he was extremely satisfied with the way

things were going. He knew she had debated reaching

for his mask. Her eyes were more expressive than he

remembered them being in the office. Or was he just

now paying attention? He shook his head. How much

he’d missed with her! Time lost. Or was it thanks to.

Grant’s reminder that he needed to think things

through thoroughly. Behind the mask, he frowned

slightly. He’d never realized how much of his life had

been on auto-pilot. He’d think through business deals

as if he was playing a chess match. His personal life had

been very different. Which was how, he admitted,

Charlotte and so many others had been able to fool

him.

He heard the bedroom door open and her soft

footsteps as she approached him. Out of the corner of

his eye, he saw her sit on the leather footstool to his

right and shift to get comfortable. After a moment, she

was still, waiting for him to speak.

He reached to his left and wheeled the table around

before him. He could see her nose twitch at the smells.

She probably was starving, he smiled. She’d had little

time to eat this morning and he’d exhausted her when

she’d arrived. However, he first opened and poured the

wine. Removing one dish cover, he cut the steak.

Selecting a delicate pink piece, he turned toward

her and held it just before her lips. She sent him a

questioning look. Clearly, whatever she’d been

expecting, he had unsettled her. Good. He nodded,

indicating she should take it. As he’d expected, she

lifted a hand. He promptly returned it to the plate.

Her hand froze in mid-air.

With a dramatic sigh, Keith rose and went to the

chest. Serena’s eyes widened as she watched him open

the second of four drawers.

“Come here,” he said quietly. “And turn around.”

Obediently, she went to him, turning when he

motioned her to. He cuffed her wrists and then fastened

them behind her back.

“You seem to like being bad,” he told her.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“And telling me
no
,” he added.

She winced.

“What did I do?”

“You think you’re too good to take food from my

hand,” he replied, moving to stand in front of her.

Lifting her chin with a hard grip, he shook his head.

“You are my submissive, Serena. When we are in these

three rooms, you are dependent on me for everything. I

tell you what to do and when. I give you drink and food.

You do only what I tell you to and nothing if I haven’t

instructed you. Is that clear?”

Wishing he had told her that hours ago, she

nodded.

“Yes, Master,” she added hastily.

Not fast enough as his lips firmed in the shadow of

the hood. The next thing she knew, he hauled her

across the room to the spanking bench. Instead of being

strapped to it, he placed her over the padded surface

and secured her ankles to a bar with four straps and

several hooks. Her wrists were freed and pulled to her

front. She could barely breathe as she watched him

fasten her to two hooks.

“Master?”

Not a word. In silence, he returned to the chest. A

low cry came from her as she saw the leather strap in

his hand. As she stared, he closed that drawer and

opened the top one. She gasped and stared as he

glanced at her. When she saw the ball gag in his other

hand, she froze. Confined as she was, she shook her

head. No way, no how.

“Sherlock,” she whispered, praying he would honor

it.

He froze.

“Excuse me?” he frowned behind the hood. “What

did you say?”

“Sherlock,” she repeated, voice trembling. “I will not

let you use that on me. And no more gags in my mouth.

I’m not a horse or a rabid dog.” She looked at him,

stunned dismay filling her green eyes with tears. “You

said you weren’t looking for a sex slave and you don’t do

sadomasochism.” He didn’t move. Biting her lower lip,

she looked back at the floor. “What I read about in that

book is the reason I’m here. I wanted to be with a man

like the Dominant described on page eight. Not…” she

swallowed back the tears that clogged her throat. “Not

the cruel master described on page seven.”

“Refresh my memory of the description on page

eight.”

With her memory, and as many times as she had

read it, she was able to recite it nearly word for word. In

the silence that followed, she didn’t move. She strained

to see his eyes beyond the mask. They were in shadow,

so she couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. All she could

do was pray he would keep his word even if he didn’t

like it.

Dropping both strap and gag, he strode across the

floor and released her. She felt her mouth open in

shock. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to

the chair. Sitting down, he held her trembling body to

his chest.

“Serena, talk to me. Why did you use your safe

word? You were on the bench this morning and didn’t

have a problem with it. Why did—”

“You’re not using that thing on me,” she insisted,

fists clenching his black shirt. “You will not hit me with

that thing.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. One hand

firmly held her head against his shoulder. Shifting

slightly, she kept her eyes firmly on the length of

leather snaking on the floor as if it would suddenly

move on its own.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, leaning back in the chair

and cradling her against his chest. “It’s all right,” he

soothed her hair back off her face. “Would you believe

that damn strap isn’t even mine? A friend left it here

months ago.” He stroked her hair. “If you don’t want the

strap, then I’ll keep to the paddle or my hand.”

“Why are you so focused on discipline and

punishing me?” she whispered, wrapping her arms

around her waist.

“Because during the week, we’re not going to be

able to spend time like this,” he admitted. “Because I

want to cram everything in so you won’t forget me

during the week.”

She lifted her head and stared at him. During the

week. She hadn’t thought about that. During the week,

he wouldn’t be able to tie her to the bed and play with

her the way he had, or spank her before making her

suck his cock. Even if he came to her apartment, they

wouldn’t have more than a couple hours together.

“I understand wanting to cram everything in.,” she

replied, finally relaxing against him. “I’m afraid you’ll

forget about me. I’m so scared I’ll do something wrong

and you’ll decide I would be a horrible submissive. Like

what I just did,” she sighed.

“No,” he said firmly, lifting her chin. “Serena, that

is why a submissive has a safe word. Even a slave has

the right to a safe word to end whatever is happening.

We hadn’t talked about punishment and I went too far.”

“But you stepped back when I said my safe word,

right?”

“Yes, but what if I…”

“No,” she shook her head. She tried to hide her

exasperation and amusement. Was it her lot in life to

be around men with perfection fixations? “You’re as

human as the rest of us, Master,” she smiled. “And even

if you started to lose control, you got it back.”

“How can you say that?” he wondered. “How can you

trust me after this?”

“You honored my safe word.” For Serena, it was a

no-brainer. “You didn’t get mad at me for using it. You