by Abby Gordon
Leaning forward she fingered the collar. As thick as her thumb, gold links surrounded glittering diamonds and rosy pearls alternating around her neck. It was large enough to make a statement, she grinned, like when they went to the club he'd mentioned. Or in public, to remind her that she was his submissive, even if no one else understood what it meant. And just below was the physical mark he'd left on her. Never having a hickey before, she studied it almost as much as the necklace.
"Serena, what is happening to you?” she shook her head.
In the reflection, she saw something on the back of the bathroom door. Turning, she read the store name on the dress bag hanging on the hook. Unzipping it, she stared. Everything was there—lingerie, shoes, and a note telling her not to wear anything but what he had given her. In awe, she touched the dress's material. It was finer than anything she'd ever owned.
Tears flowed as she leaned back against the vanity and glanced over her shoulder at her reflection. The diamonds sparkled and the pearls gleamed. She smiled, lifting her hand to touch them. This wasn't what mattered most, she knew. Her fingers traced the mark made from his mouth.
That meant more. It wasn't the things Master could give her, but something Keith never had. Himself. Even if she didn't know Master's name, or what he looked like, Master had given her himself. They had talked, laughed, and shared. He'd given her time, respect, and tenderness. And passion.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the counter and went to the shower.
Two hours later, she entered the office and was surprised to see Keith's door already open and the coffeemaker percolating contentedly. Although she tried to be quiet, he heard her as she hung up her coat.
"Serena!” he called.
She closed her eyes briefly. That tone was his I'm-in-a-bad-mood-and-heads-will-roll voice. She so did not need to deal with an irritated Keith. Yes, she knew he'd had a bad week dealing with last Monday's fall-out. Well, she straightened her shoulders, her week hadn't exactly been entirely bucolic either. Except for last night.
"Serena!"
She sighed. Handing him her resignation her first day back was not going to go over well. What was she supposed to tell him? She was resigning to be the mistress of a man whose name she didn't know?
"Serena!"
He appeared at his door. As she'd expected, there was a scowl on his face.
"Where's the folder for the Brown contract?"
"Unless someone moved it, that file should be in your in-box,” she replied, putting her purse in the drawer. When he didn't answer, she glanced up into his piercing gaze. “Is it not there?"
"What did you say?"
"The Brown file should be in your in-box."
Master's words came to her and she flushed, turning away.
"Serena,” Keith said in a low voice. “Could you come in my office a moment?"
"Of course,” she nodded, glancing at the coffee which was finishing its automatic cycle. “Do you want coffee?"
"No. Now."
He went to the hall door, closing and locking it. Puzzled, she nodded and moved ahead of him into his office. He turned the lights off as he followed her.
"Keith,” she started, deciding to bring up her resigning now. “I need to tell you something."
"Nice necklace,” he commented. “New?"
"Thank you,” she replied, touching the collar. “Yes, it...it was a gift."
"By someone with excellent taste and who knows what suits you."
"Yes,” she nodded, pausing between the leather chairs that faced his desk. She heard the door lock behind him. “Keith, there's something I need to tell you."
"You told me what you need,” he whispered, coming up behind her. “You told me you were all right and desperate to be submissive and taken by me."
Serena whirled, eyes wide as she stared at him.
"What did you say?"
But she could see the truth in his eyes. Keith was Master? She felt her legs tremble and threaten to give out on her. He caught her shoulders.
"Yes, sweet Serena,” he murmured, gathering her close. “Yes."
"I don't understand,” she breathed, shaking.
Keith was Master? How? Why? Her mind spun as she tried to understand what was happening. One thing suddenly blazed across her mind like a falling star streaking across the sky. He'd tricked her!
"Don't think,” he told her. “Just feel what I do to you.” His hands moved up to frame her face. “Feel how we are together."
His mouth brushed hers lightly, before claiming her in a full hard kiss that spread heat through her until her toes curled. His arms went around her and cradled her to him. But she was still shaking, with love, with desire, with exhaustion, with anger. She'd been through hell the past week—physically, mentally and emotionally. She wasn't about to just fall into his arms. He had some major explaining to do. Bringing her hands up, she planted them on his chest and pushed him far enough away to see his face.
"How could you do that to me?” she demanded. “Why? And last night? Was that some sort of test? Did I pass?"
"I didn't know how to approach you,” he said quietly. “Not after what you'd said about Charlotte and the socialites. I...I didn't think you'd be interested in me that way."
"Only since the first day I saw you in the elevator,” she shook her head. Dammit, that would make him think he didn't need to do anything. “Actually after that conversation, I was convinced you'd never look at me because I wasn't a socialite."
"Whereas I started to truly see you,” he replied, fingers brushing over her forehead to her temples. Cradling her jaw in his palms, he kissed her gently. “I couldn't get you out of my mind or the things I wanted to do with and to you. I stayed up all night working on how I would seduce you,” he whispered, gathering her close again. “When you didn't throw that book away, I took a chance at putting the second one in the drawer. I was fairly certain you were a submissive, but there was always the chance you would not accept it."
"Keith, do you realize the risk you took?” She stared up at him. “The books in my desk? Even thinking of seducing me? Much less coming to my apartment last night? Especially after everything that happened last week?"
"Yes. That brought it home quite vividly,” he nodded. “Do you know how much last night meant to me?"
"Tell me."
Her voice was barely audible.
"Let me show you,” he smiled.
He tugged loose the tie belt for the wrap-around dress and in seconds pulled the dress from her body. Leaving her dressed in a black lace bra and thigh-high stockings, along with the impossibly high heels that were the most comfortable she'd ever worn. And her collar. His clever hands flipped the front clasp of the bra.
She reached for his head and searched his eyes. She still didn't know what he wanted from her. Would the passion be enough? He didn't give her any time to think. His hands roamed her body, finding the nerves he'd discovered and exploited so well before.
"Gorgeous,” rasped his voice. “And mine."
"Keith,” Serena breathed, finally relaxing at his familiar touch.
"Mine,” he murmured several times.
As if it was his new mantra. As if it would make it true. As if it was what he wanted more than anything else. He demanded her response and she gave it to him. Hands clinging to his shoulders, she let her head fall to the side. He bent her back and feasted on her neck and breasts.
"Master,” she sighed.
It was as if she'd said a magic word that unleashed the animal within the man.
She'd been able to feel his cock as he'd held her close. She'd known he wanted her. But now, now, he made sure she had no doubts as to his intentions.
His hands braced her upper back as his mouth lavished attention on her breasts. One after the other, he suckled until she was crying out in her need. He caught one nipple in his mouth and slowly drew as much of her in as possible. Her head fell back as her body caught fire. When his tongue circled just before his tee
th closed on the hardened tip, she moaned. Her hips shifted desperately against him.
"Please, Master, please,” she begged.
He laid her on the desk he'd already cleared. Firm hands held her thighs wide apart. For a long moment he stared at her dripping pussy.
"You're wet,” he observed, tracing her folds with a finger. “But are you hot?"
"Yes!” she panted, wriggling her hips. “Please!"
"What do you want, Serena?"
"In-box."
"Tell me."
"You inside me,” she managed.
Two fingers slid inside her. With a moan, she arched off the desk. He hooked his fingers as his thumb went to her clit.
"So wet for me, sweetheart,” he said approvingly. “Hot and tight."
"Oh, God,” she moaned as he applied exquisite pressure on the nerves he'd discovered during their weekend together.
It was her G-spot, he had told her. With the right amount of pressure applied inside and out, a woman's orgasm, if she'd been thoroughly aroused, would be mind-blowing. He'd demonstrated it repeatedly until she couldn't walk on her own.
Now, his fingers stroked her insides as his thumb circled on her clit and just above it. His lips caught a breast and she felt her entire body surrender. It didn't matter that she wasn't tied up, blindfolded, or gagged. He commanded her body completely. He would give her pleasure, give her carefully applied pain, and protect her throughout.
"Master,” she whimpered.
His lips covered hers and she couldn't talk. Couldn't think. Could only feel.
One of his hands left her body and in a few seconds she could hear his zipper. Her hands reached for him.
"Let me help,” she panted.
"I've got it, sweetheart,” he chuckled.
His fingers and thumb pinched her clit and wrung a cry from her throat. Pulling his hand from her, he tugged her hips to the edge of the desk. And drove straight into her slick folds.
"Yes!"
Serena's exulted cry was more a whisper than a shout, but she didn't know. She wouldn't have cared. She had the man she had wanted for years and the Master who had taken her body and made it his.
Keith's hips pistoned his cock in and out of her. His hands gripped her hips to hold her still. This was wild. This was hot. This was sheer animalistic possession.
And she reveled in it. A thumb went to her clit and pressed hard.
"Yes, yes, yes,” she panted. “Master, please. I need... I need..."
"Come when you're ready. Come, sweet. Come for me,” he grunted.
His head moved down and he latched onto a breast. Hard. Moaning, she threaded her fingers in his hair and held him to her.
As his hips increased their speed and urgency, his tongue and teeth devoured her breasts. And the animal inside her roared to life.
And she came. Again. And again. And felt him surge into her.
"Oh,” she sighed as he held her close.
"Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed. “Mine. Just mine."
He stepped back, still holding her, and carefully sat down in the leather chair. He was still inside her as her legs wrapped around her waist. He didn't lean back but focused on stroking her hair and nuzzling her neck.
"Keith? Master?” she frowned. “What do I call you?"
"Master when we're alone. Keith in public,” he replied, a gleam in his eyes. “Or you could call me husband.” He saw the surprise in her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I put you through so much, didn't I?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I'm sorry, Serena. I'll make it up to you.” His hands framed her face. “I swear, I never imagined Mark would come after you. I would have kept you in the playroom for a year before I let that bastard come near you. I would have done anything..."
Two fingers gently covered his mouth.
"I know, darling,” she whispered. “And you were there for me. Claire kept saying she talked to you on the phone, but I thought she was confused about which phone. And the way you had the guards with me constantly and...” She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “And you were the one who insisted I bring Debbie to you so she could tell you what had been done to her. I know you didn't have any idea what would happen, but you knew what you were going to do to Duncan and any other man involved. Didn't you?"
"Yes,” he answered. His hands stroked her back. “I wanted to come to you. I wanted to call you. As your boss. As your master. I thought you would want time to heal, to think. Each time you called, your message was so short I wasn't sure if you were about to end things."
"I was afraid I'd start crying and beg you to come to me,” she told him, closing her eyes and snuggling closer. “I couldn't understand why you didn't call or come see me. Wasn't what happened big enough to—"
"It was,” he nodded, arms tightening around her. “But you had enough to deal with last week without suddenly finding out I was your Dom and,” he sighed, glancing at the three stacks of files on the credenza. “I've been a little busy myself. The fall-out has been interesting."
"The company?"
"Actually doing better,” he smiled, lips twisting slightly. “Much to my family's chagrin."
"How's Penny?"
He sighed and rested his cheek on the top of her head.
"She finally realized just what kind of man Mark is and ended the engagement. Her father's in control of her trust fund and cut her off."
"What?” Serena gasped. “Why?"
"That,” he sighed, “is the sixty-four thousand dollar question. We're not sure what the connection is between Mark, Duncan, Hester, and my father and uncle."
Serena pulled her head back slightly so she could see his expression.
"You think your family was trying to ruin you?"
"Maybe not completely, but enough to drive me to sell the company to the family holdings. Their professional and personal reputations have taken some knocks lately."
"Your brothers?"
"Possibly,” he conceded.
"I'd heard that Kevin didn't like your success,” she said slowly. “And after what happened last year with Grant Franklin, he really was pissed you took Grant's side.” She frowned. “But what would Penny...” her eyes widened. “Did her trust have shares or something they needed?"
He stared at her.
"Shit,” he muttered. “Mental note to self—go over everything during the day with Serena. Not one of us ever thought of them needing her shares. That's got to be why he cut her off."
"But she's over twenty-one, right? Doesn't she have full access? Or at least to all the interest or something?"
"I'll have to check on that,” he nodded.
"So what is she doing in the meantime?"
"I gave her a job. As the company's special events coordinator, she's very busy setting things up for our newest division. I also pissed her off a bit. I figured since she took my side someone might come after her, so she's had a bodyguard full-time. Neither she nor Ben have looked very happy."
"You have been busy,” she observed. “A new division?"
"You've opened my eyes to many things,” he told her. “So I thought, since you can't stay my assistant once people know about us, that you might like to head up a section devoted to philanthropy. Raising money for hospices, computers for schools, and..."
With a gasp of happiness, Serena kissed him hard.
"Yes.” She studied his face. “I'm figuring your family isn't one we'll have to spend much time with, is it?"
"No,” he shook his head. “I told you my parents divorced when I was young. I didn't understand any of what was happening. All I knew for certain was that my mother wasn't there anymore. Over the next fifteen years, I had three stepmothers who were all under thirty when they married my father.” He grimaced. “I didn't think much about relationships between men and women. That may have made me a dominant, to keep women submissive, but...” he shrugged.
"I'm not complaining,” she told him, tilting her head to look at him. Now seemed like a good time to
tell him about how she felt about his family. He didn't seem very fond of most of them, but she didn't know many people who liked wholesale criticism of their family. “I don't think I've met your father. I talked with him on the phone a couple times. He was rather abrupt and patronizing. Your mother came in once. I liked her. She seemed much too sweet to have married your father. I've met Penny on her way to see Mark, but no one else."
"That's because when I was twenty-two, I found out just what my father had done to my mother during their marriage and when they divorced. I ...” he broke off and closed his eyes. His arms tightened around her even as she held him close.
"How old were you when they divorced?” she whispered.
"Seven. That age when your parents are perfect. Until you suddenly don't see your mother anymore and hear terrible things about her."
"You're close with her now?"
"Yes,” he nodded. “I'd never understood why Mom had just disappeared. No one even mentioned her. My father acted as if she had never existed.” He worked his jaw and swallowed. “I tracked her down after I earned my MBA. I was horrible to her. I yelled and accused her of being a terrible mother and...” Keith clenched his jaw. Serena's heart broke for the little boy who'd felt so alone for so long. “She lost her temper and told me everything. My father had threatened her with all sorts of things if she ever tried to contact me.” He met Serena's steady supportive gaze. “He'd only married her so that their children would be part of her family. After I was born, Mom had several miscarriages. That didn't fit in with his plan, so he divorced her. Her brothers were more concerned about maintaining their business ties with my father. I did little besides drink for about three months. On my twenty-third birthday, my father and older brothers made bets as to how fast I could drink myself to death. I lost my temper and attacked my father.” Serena gasped and he nodded. “Yep. And, about the only thing I'm sorry about is that I didn't kill him."