Page 13 of Master My Love

Chapter 4

AS HE ESCORTED THEtempting little blonde to the entrance, a perpetual reminder droned through Eric’s mind—she isn’t yours, Dupree. Keep your dick in your pants.

There was something about this woman that made him yearn to carry her off to somewhere private and have her all to himself. And not only for tonight. Things he never imagined in his forty-four years, like exclusivity and commitment, popped into his head.

Maybe that was it.

He was in his mid-forties and had never been in a committed relationship before. Sure, he’d had flings and some short-term contracts with submissives. But his constant travels and getting called out on missions, without notice, most often in the dead of night, made him hesitant to pursue anything more permanent.

But now, he couldn’t deny the temptation of waking up to a warm, willing woman every morning. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about claiming one as his own.

Hell. What was wrong with him? He scarcely knew her.

“This is impressive.”

Her softly spoken words snapped him out of his uncharacteristic thoughts. Looking down at her, he smiled. Her head barely reached his shoulder, and she fit comfortably under his arm. She had appealing curves, and the faint scent of vanilla and lavender emanating from her hair smelled so fucking fantastic, he longed to bury his face in it and breathe her in. Eric also had the overwhelming urge to hide her from the other doms, many of whom liked soft and curvy. He’d never felt so possessive.

Showing her the main playroom was also a concern. With her here for a single night, he had one shot at making an impression enticing enough to lure her back. The crowd here was edgy, more so than at the San Antonio club. They were a few years younger on average and a lot more adventurous. As a dominant, it excited him and gave him the chance to broaden his BDSM expertise. As an owner, they scared the shit out of him sometimes, not that he’d ever admit it.

Managing this group was like herding cats, especially with many of them determined to test every boundary. It kept him and his security team hopping.

He worried about exposing Valerie to that level of kink right off the bat. If the limit list had scared her off, how would the little innocent react to witnessing those same activities in the flesh?

He’d prefer to introduce her slowly on a night they weren’t bursting at the seams with members and guests. Getting to know her better in the lounge first, perhaps giving her a taste of restraints or a light paddling in a private room upstairs. But with midnight approaching, he didn’t have time for that.

As he guided her out of the playroom with his hand on her lower back. The ends of her long hair brushed his skin. He wanted to run his fingers through the glossy strands to see if they were as soft as they looked. Except he wouldn’t be able to stop there. He would need to touch her, tracing each hollow and curve, delving into every furrow and crease, and to taste all the parts in between.

When they walked by the dance floor and saw several couples engrossed in their own world while grinding against each other to the thumping bass of the music, he felt her body tense. Maybe they had a few minutes for a drink to help her relax.

“Would you care for something from the bar? Since you aren’t playing tonight, you may have one alcoholic beverage.”

“Is that a club rule?”

“It’s my rule for my submissive tonight. The max is two for everyone else, or play is off-limits.”

“I’m so nervous I could probably have four with no effect.”

“Let’s not test your theory.”

Finding a place at the crowded bar wasn’t easy. He located a single stool and motioned for her to take it, watching with delight as she tried to hold down her skirt while struggling to climb up. She couldn’t know the enticing picture she presented with the low-cut neckline of her corset and her short hemline. After two attempts, she gave up and rested her hip against it instead. Since the show was over, Eric stepped in to help. Paying no mind to her yelp of attention, he grasped her by the waist and set her atop the tall barstool.

“Thank you. I think,” she breathed, when he leaned in and rested an elbow on the bar. Her delicate blush charmed him further.

“You’re welcome. Pretty etiquette, little one, but you need to add a few sirs and masters to perfect it and stay out of trouble.”

She blinked as awareness dawned. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting.”

“Sir,” he prompted.

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