Page 44 of The Devil's Spawn

“As for the other slaves,” he continued, “you won’t speak to them unless directed to.” Carefully, he removed my mask and set it on the table before taking his off as well. But as he reached for me, I stepped out of line again.

“Please don’t make me do this, Master.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Master.” But wanting to trust someone and doing so were two different things.

“Then prove it,” he said. “Obey me. I promise you won’t be touched by anyone but me.”

No, I’d just be used and humiliated in front of his societal bigwig friends. Allowing him to unzip my dress took more self-control than I thought I possessed. As that zipper slid down my back, I clenched my fists and mashed my lips together. Why did the idea of submitting to him in front of others seem so daunting? Compared to what he put me through daily, having an audience shouldn’t bother me so much.

My dress fell in a heavy pile on the floor, surrounding my shaking limbs with the finest fabric money could buy. Gripping his offered hand, I worked my heels off before stepping outside the circle of discarded formalwear, and goose pimples erupted on my skin as he slowly freed my body from his rope binding.

“Are you ready?” he asked, folding the silky twine before pocketing it.

Not even close, but I’d be damned if I allowed this night to be the catalyst for a breakdown.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Master.”

Gage herded me to the top of the stairs, where the “robe” hung on a hook. Robe, my ass. The garment was nothing more than a sheer peignoir.

“Whether you receive pain or pleasure tonight is up to you,” he said, holding the lingerie open so I could push my arms through the long, flowing sleeves. Impossibly, I felt more exposed with it on.

“How so, Master?”

“If you behave, you won’t be punished.”

“That doesn’t reassure me, Master.”

“Why not?”

“Because you love my pain.” Promises or not, he’d find creative ways to make me stumble.

Taking my chin between two commanding fingers, he pressed his lips to mine for a fleeting moment. “You know me so well.”

The winding staircase took us to a room hidden below where the ball had been held. My skin chilled from the cold, or maybe from nerves. A door came into view, and Gage halted.

“You will follow my directions and only mine. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Master.” I swallowed hard, but nausea busted through my resolve. “Can I have a safe word?”

“You don’t need a safe word. You asked why you? This is why. You give me what I crave most. You give me the honor of truly owning you. Trust that I know what you can and can’t handle.”

Oh God. I was close to panicking.

“No gags,” I begged.

He ran a thumb across my lips. “Considering your condition, I wouldn’t have gagged you anyway. This is what I’m talking about, Kayla. You don’t trust me to take care of you.” Sharp disappointment drew his face taunt, deepening his indigo eyes.

“I’m sorry, Master.” My failure at pleasing him sucked the strength from me, and my knees gave out. Wrapping my arms around his legs, I nestled my cheek against the smooth fabric of his pants. “I want to make you proud.”

“You’re making me hard.”

Those words had the power to flip that mysterious switch inside me. From despair to arousal in less time than it took to inhale. Gazing up at him, I exhaled my reservations and grabbed his offered hand.

He propelled me to my feet, and though my body still shook from fear of the unknown, I felt stronger at my core as he wedged open that door and ushered me toward the next test of my submission.

21. The Circle

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