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Being truly helpless is the only thing that can save him. But it’s the one thing he’s not willing to do.
Marius has all the things a Mistress could want in a one-night-sub encounter. Hot body, loads of charm and a willingness to get her off in any way she pleases. That’s his reputation at The Zone. But Marius has a dark side. When a Mistress pushes him for something deeper, he’ll push back, mess with her head. When he takes it too far one night, The Zone management has had enough. He’s kicked out of the club and there’s only one way back in—Lady Regina.
Regina’s been studying Marius for a while. She enjoys her submissives in all flavors, and she likes them challenging, though not usually the “knight-in-distress” type, so screwed up she’d need a backhoe to dig him out of his dysfunctions. But on that pivotal night, she sees something in Marius. He doesn’t know what it means to be truly helpless to a Mistress, but he needs it, more than any sub she’s ever encountered. And that’s a challenge this Mistress can’t resist.
Background: Regina is tending Marius after he competes in an illegal fight…
She stepped back. “You’ll do. I suppose you know a hot shower when you get home is the best remedy, on top of the ibuprofen you just took. Though I’d highly recommend a tetanus update and having your head examined.”
He kept staring at her. He wanted to make her nervous with his silence. Tough luck with that, boy, she thought. You want to self-gag, it doesn’t bother me.
Answering in kind, she tossed one final wipe into the trash and headed for the door. Embracing her Mistress side meant understanding there was an energy flow between Dom and sub once a connection was made, even if the connection was the rope in a tug of war. She rode that energy how it was meant to be ridden, not forcing her own expectations on it. It worked better that way. She’d accomplished what mattered most to her here, which was confirming he’d finally released that surfeit of potent energy from his session at the club earlier in the night. He was leveling out. While he could likely use a lot more aftercare, they were quite a distance from him earning that kind of treatment from her.
“You don’t want to talk about what happened in Tyler’s office?” he said abruptly. “Or why you followed me here?”
“No.” She continued to move toward the opening that would lead back to the ring area and then the parking lot. She didn’t need or want to stay any longer. She didn’t anticipate that he would do or say anything to hold her there longer, so it was a pleasant surprise when he did.
“You didn’t say what you thought of the fight.”
She pivoted and met his gaze. “No, I didn’t. Would you like to know?”
He could look wary, like an animal being baited into a trap. He had thick, dark lashes. His gray eyes were like the mirror surface of a lake. “Yeah,” he said at last.
“Okay.” She returned to him. There was a pen sitting next to the tray of gauze. Picking it up, she extended her hand, looking pointedly at one of his. When he offered it, she clasped his wrist and wrote an address on the inside of his forearm, along with Friday, 6:30pm.
His fingers flexed above her grip and she was aware of his breath stirring tendrils of hair against her cheek. Her hip pressed against his knee. She imagined sliding between his spread thighs, tasting the metallic flavor lingering on his lips, feeling the flex of his shoulder muscles under her splayed fingers and firm palms. His hands would curve over her hips, his own fingers digging in, showing he wanted and needed her.
Careful, girl, she thought. Don’t screw with your own head. He’ll do enough of that without your help.
“Meet me there and I’ll tell you.” Setting the pen aside, she laid a hand on the side of his face. His gaze lifted to her. “Get some rest. Take care of yourself.”
When he started to lift his hand to clasp her arm, she drew back and shook her head, a denial. His lips set in a thin line. “That a command, Mistress?” he asked tonelessly.
“Take it however you want.”
He curled his fingers around the edge of the table, body leaning forward, eyes suddenly cold and hard. “It wouldn’t matter, anyway, since you don’t really like me.”
“No. I don’t,” she responded frankly. “But I care about you. That doesn’t require that I like you.”
Winner of the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement award, Joey W. Hill has published over forty contemporary and paranormal BDSM erotic romances, including six series. Her emotionally-intense love stories offer everything from vampires, mermaids, witches and angels, to boardroom executives, cops and simple housemaids. With her books, she suggests “don’t look past the sex; look in it, and find a wonderful story to touch the heart and soul.