Page 61 of Master My Love

He produced her white clutch in his other hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as she relieved him of both. She had to sit to buckle the strap around her ankle, hissing softly as her tender ass met the coolness of the leather couch, her thin dress providing no protection.

Once done, she stood and looked around his apartment, hoping it wasn’t for the last time.

Samson’s voice, deep and resonant, sliced through the silence, interrupting her thoughts. “Eric can be daunting, but he’s a good man. You are the first woman he’s considered making a go of things with for as long as I’ve known him. That’s over twenty years.” When he continued, his weighty words settled heavily over her. “If you’re not serious about the lifestyle, and aren’t interested in him for the long haul, do us all a favor and cut him loose.”

Val walked toward the big man who’d teased her one moment, threatened to cage her the next, who cuddled his tearful wife tenderly against his chest minutes after whipping her ass for being a bitch. Like Eric, he was a multifaceted, complex man, and ruthlessly straightforward when the occasion called for it.

Even with the additional height her heels gave her, he still towered over her, an intimidating figure, but she looked up, meeting his gaze with determination. “I’m in it for real and for the long haul, Master Samson. I fucked up and disobeyed him, plain and simple. But I won’t do it again.”

His sudden bark of laughter made her jump. “Impossible,” he declared. “Submissives are amischievouslot, by nature.”

His deep-brown eyes met and held hers, turned serious again. “Since you’re serious, a word of warning. Fair or not, as the master dom’s sub, you will be held to a higher standard. He is in charge here, andyour behavior reflects on him. When you screw up, you diminish him in the eyes of the membership.”

“The hierarchy!” she whispered as realization dawned.

He heaved a sigh, muttering, “You get it. Thank fuck.” Master Samson opened the door and nodded for her to go ahead of him. “If you remember that going forward,there may be hope for the rest of usafter all. Eric is hell on wheels when he’s pissed.”

“You’re telling me.” Her remark coincided with the rubbing of her sore bottom as she walked past him and out into the hall, not caring if he noticed.

Naturally, he did, and like the sadist he was, Samson chuckled.

***

THE NEXT MORNING, UNABLEto sleep or eat with her stomach in knots and her nerves in a jumble, she dragged into work for an eight o’clock appointment. Afterward, Val had insurance claims to file until her next client arrived at one. Worried she had screwed up the most promising and exciting relationship in her life, she couldn’t focus, which was a disservice to her patients.

She kept checking the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until she could check her messages. When none were from Eric, she felt sick. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, ready to break down in tears, and felt hopeless,convinced she’d pushed him too far.

The walk to her mailbox wasn’t much of a distraction, but the envelope bearing her son’s return address lifted her spirits. It was a Valentine’s card. Reading it was bittersweet. Every year since he was old enough to draw, he’d made her a card. They had gone from crayons to markers to colored pencils, which graduated to ink, but it always touched her that he took the time to make something special.

Thinking about spending another Valentine’s Day alone, instead of sharing candy hearts with her kids or being with Eric, as she’d hoped, was disheartening. She supposed she’d spend it with her old friends—Ben and Jerry—diving into a pint of Chunky Monkey, every lonely girl’s best friend.

As she headed back inside, she saw a package at her front door. She never used that entrance and wondered how long it had been there. There was no postmark or shipping label, so it had to have come by courier. She recognized the logo on the box as thesame boutique Julianna had taken her to. Unable to wait, she ripped into it. Folding aside the tissue paper, she discovered a white satin and lace chemise. Searching for a card, she found it tucked inside the matching G-string.

Valerie,

It appears I’ll be tied up with business all weekend. This will give you plenty of time to consider my request. I hope to see you on Monday evening with the right decision made.

Meet me in the lounge at 9. It’s our 1st Annual Valentine’s Pajama Party. I can’t wait to see you in white lace. Remember my new dungeon rule.

E

Sighing with relief, she sent up a prayer of thanks that she hadn’t spoiled everything. She didn’t needplenty of timeto make up her mind. She wanted Eric Dupree and, to quote the sexy Master Dom himself, haveeverything a D/s relationship with him entailed.

Eyeing the extremely short nightie, she ran her hand under the delicate lace cups. Designed to entice, it would leave little to the imagination, which she assumed was Master Eric’s intent. Thin straps crisscrossed in the back but otherwise, there wasn’t one. She held it up to her. The lacey trimmed hem barely reached her upper thighs and the high vent on one side would offer a tantalizing glimpse of her hip and a lot of skin whenever she moved. Val’s heart raced, and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had three days until she saw him again and hoped it was sufficient to wrap her head around being practically naked at her first club party.

Smiling, almost giddy with glee, she did a little happy dance providing old Mrs. Gleason next door much-needed entertainment, before she rushed inside to try on her nightie.

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