Page 7 of Master My Love

“Why do you think we opened the clubs?”

“Of course,” she drawled. “How silly of me.”

Amused, his dark eyes gleamed. “We don’t mind taking assignments; it’s in our blood. You can take the warrior out of the military, but you can’t take him out of the man.”

“Master Eric was in the service?”

“In the Navy for two decades, a SEAL for more than half of that.”

What she knew about SEALs came from the TV news. They were the badasses of the armed forces, and always seemed to be the ones taking out terrorist strongholds and conducting other dangerous missions the public only learned about after the fact, if at all. No wonder he looked so serious; he must have seen a lot of unspeakable things and been forced to do some as well.

Val glanced at Master T, who, on first impression, was easygoing by comparison. “Did you serve with him?”

“Hell no. I’m an Army man.” He didn’t elaborate, shifting back to the original point. “The other six owners cycle through from every so often and pitch in, but other than a membership council who helps with applicant approvals, Decadence LA is Eric’s baby. Better mind him, little subbie. He has full authority here. He can make your experience extremely pleasant or very uncomfortable.”

Neither proposition sounded all that bad if Eric was directly involved. T considered her for a moment with one black brow arched. She already knew he was perceptive, but had he figured out she’d willingly prostrate herself at the beyond-sexy master dom’s feet and submit to anything if he asked her to—or commanded it?

If he didn’t know the direction her thoughts had taken, the blush heating her cheeks gave her away.

He ran his finger down one, brown eyes dancing with amusement. “My goodness, the boss made an impression. But I didn’t mean you personally, Val. I was speaking of submissives in general.” He paused again, frowning this time. “Don’t set your heart on Eric, darlin’. You’re not ready for him. You'll want a fluffier dom to ease you into the lifestyle.

“Fluffy?”

Soft came to mind. She didn’t want that; she’d had soft with her husband for years. A kind-natured, giving man, Kent had been gentle with her from the beginning. They’d been best friends in high school and been inseparable. It continued in college, made easy when they chose the same university. It seemed natural for him to be her first. They married soon after graduation, so he’d also been her last.

Their love wasn’t the grand romance she’d seen in movies and read about books. And she couldn’t say they ever set the sheets on fire in the bedroom. It had been comfortable, similar to pulling on an old pair of jeans, and she’d learned to be content with what they had.

After years of soft and sweet, she wanted something different. She never experienced rough, dark, or taboo sex before, or hot, raw, and mind-blowing, for that matter. She was open to any of the options, but the rough and taboo possibilities particularly intrigued her inner bad girl.

Val nearly laughed out loud. As if she had an inner bad girl.

With Kent gone almost four years now, and the kids away at college, her nest was empty, and she was lonely. Her friends were badgering her to get back out there, especially Kate, who was the only person she’d ever confided in about her submissive desires.

Kate understood better than anyone. After two failed marriages, to what she referred to as “vanilla” men, she finally found the perfect man, one who wouldn’t take her crap when she was in “a mood,” called her on her bullshit, and who she claimed, paddled her ass like a pro for fun, and occasionally, not so fun, when she needed it.

Val wanted that, too. For years, she had fantasies of a powerful, dominant man taking control. She never told Kent, at least not straight out. She’d hinted at spicing things up, but he never picked up on her cues. She suggested role-play. He had declined, worried he would feel silly. One evening, after too many glasses of wine, she asked for a spanking during sex. He swatted her twice, both very mild, before stopping, afraid he might hurt her. She gave up trying after that.

If she was going to dip her toe in the relationship pool again, she needed an experienced dom who would take charge. Who would fuck her in a position other than missionary and wouldn’t call her a freak if she got off from getting her bottom paddled.

Her favorite fantasy popped into her head. It varied each time, but the basic dream stayed the same, being punished by a powerful man for some imagined offense.

He tipped her over onto his lap. With an arm around her waist to keep her still, he tugged up her skirt well above her hips.Her panties came down next, but not all the way. Instead, he left them twisted above her knees, which seemed more erotic than having them pulled off altogether.

Once bared to him, he rubbed, warming her skin and stimulating circulation in other nearby places.

“Are you ready for this, naughty girl?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, sir. No one has ever spanked me before me.”

“Never? Not even a few swats in the heat of passion?”

“No, not even then.”

Kent’s half-hearted attempt did not count.

“Well, now, that’s a shame, bordering on sinful.” She’d heard those words before. Twisting, she looked over her shoulder and met Master Eric’s gleaming blue eyes. “It’s an oversight we’ll have to correct immediately.”

A thrill of excitement made her tremble as he raised his big hand and brought it down in an arc toward the fleshiest part of her behind. She braced for impact as shivery spirals of desire raced to her nipples and—

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