She’s in my club.
"Try?" I reply, my voice thick with lust. My need for her overrides everything. “This isn’t a game. We’re not playing, Savannah.” I spread my hands across her thighs, pulling her to me. She makes a low sound of approval that only spurs me on. “While you’re here, you're mine. I won't risk anyone finding out who you are or putting you in danger because they suspect who you really are." I pull back just enough that I can look in her eyes.
"What does it mean to be a slave?” she whispers.
"It depends on who’s the master.”
Her beautiful eyes stare at me. She licks her lips.
"What does it mean to beyourslave?" she amends.
I cup the back of her head and hold her gaze. I want her to know this. Tofeelthis. “It means that I take care of you. It means that you do everything I say, not just because I like control but because I take care of your every need. It means you embrace serving me, and I serve you by taking control.” I run my thumb along her lower lip, memorizing the soft, warm feel of her skin. I want to taste her so badly my mouth waters. “It means that I expect complete obedience. That you are subject to my discipline if you disobey."
She doesn't speak. I take her wrists in my hands to massage where the restraints bit into her until her flesh is warm to the touch.
She licks her lips and swallows. Fear? Apprehension?
Desire?
“If I don’t pretend to be your slave, people will know I don’t belong here.”
I nod. “Yes.” Even though I want her, even though Icraveher, this much is true.
“They know what you do in private?”
I pause so I think before I give her my honest answer. I won’t lie to her. “They don’t. But submission isn’t something you can just put on and take off, Savannah. The more you practice, the better you’ll get. If you’re only obedient to me in public, the ruse will be up.”
One of us will slip.
She quirks an eyebrow up at me. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that so you can do whatever the fuck you want with me?”
I feel a slow smile spread across my face. “Not at all.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Savannah
This is maybe gettingout of hand, and fast. I’m trying to think of how to respond, but I’m having a hard time keeping my thoughts logical.
When he first took my blindfold off, the first thing I did was glare at him, like I’ve wanted to do since he started getting all domineering with me, which was pretty much the first second I was in his presence.
Now, however, I really want to observe this place.
It’s hard to keep my head on straight, though, because how am I supposed to think rationally when my body’s onfire?
I want this, and I don’t even know what “this” is. I can see the way he restrains himself, as if he’s holding himself back from everything he wants to do to me.
I don’t want him to hold back. I want to see what he can do, even if that means he’ll destroy me.
But God, even sex-craving doesn’t give me the energy I need. Right now, half the reason I’m leaning against him is because I’m so damn exhausted my eyes hurt when I blink. I lean my body against him because it’s getting harder to stand.
I stifle a yawn, and he shakes his head.
“Jesus,” he curses under his breath. “You must be completely exhausted. I’m an asshole.”
I raise my eyebrows and don’t respond, because… he isn’t wrong. Heisan asshole, but not because he’s forgotten it’s nearly daylight out and we’ve almost pulled an all-nighter.
“Come here,” he says roughly. Taking me by the hand, he pulls me into the center of the room. I want to take in every detail, from the luxurious strands of lights that form a sort of chandelier over the bed, to the velvety curtains that give us privacy, the enormous bed that sits dead center in the room, elegantly draped in fine fabrics and piles of pillows.
