Her Master's Reckoning Read online

  The television monitor was on freeze frame, an image of Rebecca being fucked over the lip of the tub glaring back at me.

  “She didn’t enjoy it,” I murmured, mostly to myself but loud enough for Anthony to hear me. Glancing at my friend, I studied his gaze before returning my attention to the television. Pressing play, I allowed him to watch Rebecca climax.

  “Looks like she enjoyed it to me,” he commented.

  A bark of silent laughter shook my chest. “You don’t know her. Not like I do. That orgasm was far too polite for a woman who usually roars with her release. What you saw was more like a polite tap on the shoulder between strangers than what I know she can do.”

  Eyes remaining on the screen, he asked, “Then why are you so angry?”

  Wearing my professional mask, I admitted, “I’m not angry. I’m just deciding on how to kill that bastard as soon as Rebecca leaves him alone in the room.”

  A beat of silence. “You can’t kill him, Aiden. He’s not your Courtesan to do with as you wish. Plus, the Society tends to look down upon Masters or Owners who leave a trail of dead bodies leading to our door.”

  “Fuck the Society.”

  “She has to present him in three weeks. What do you plan for her to do? Drag in a corpse?”

  He was getting on my last nerve.

  “Plus, what would that say about a man who has been bragging for five years that his Courtesan is also a Master as well?”

  Turning, I glared at him. “He had a razor to her throat, Anthony. And instead of beating the shit out of him, she fucked him. She’s not mastering him, she’s -“

  “You have your methods and she has hers. I watched him crawl out from that dark room. And as far as I can see in that video on the screen, she had her body all over his supposed trigger and she’s still alive to tell about it.” Anthony paused to let his words sink in. “That’s her Courtesan. She’s no longer in danger. And you should give her enough respect to stop spying.”

  “Which reminds me,” I answered, refusing to acquiesce to his statement, “I need to fix the camera in the dark room because I can’t hear a fucking word they’re saying.”

  Hands sliding in his pockets, he leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You’re driving yourself crazy by continuing to watch. And what does that say about you? What does that say about your feelings for Rebecca?”

  “Fuck off. I’ll sell her as soon as this entire charade is over.”

  “If you say so, Aiden.”

  We watched in silence as Rebecca finished tending to Christopher’s wounds, satisfaction tilting my lips as she paid extra attention to the ones at his wrists and ankles he’d earned while electricity shot through his ball sack. After finishing her repairs, allowing him to brush his teeth and finishing up her efforts to shave his face, Rebecca pointed a finger to the floor to demand he crawl behind her.

  A thumb pressing one button to flick through the cameras, I followed her progress through the house, watching as she led him from the training wing into the kitchen. “I didn’t give her permission to take him out of that wing.”

  “She doesn’t need your permission,” Anthony reminded me.

  A third person entered the room. “Oh look, she’s going to let Sera take a ride on her new toy. Guess it’s your turn to watch him play your Courtesan as easily as he’s playing mine.”

  “What makes you think he’s playing her?”

  I didn’t.

  In truth, I knew that fucker was playing me.

  He would pay for the attempt eventually.

  “Doesn’t it make you wonder how a man goes from a rabid, snarling animal to a perfectly polite Pet in the course of one day?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, Anthony continued staring at the screen with little interest. “I guess it depends on the person. Maybe whatever you did to him last night made him want to behave.” His eyes drifted my direction. “What was it you did to him again?”

  “I never told you when you first asked that question and I’m not telling you now. The point is that he’s up to something.”

  “Maybe he’s simply fallen for Rebecca as hard as you fell for her when you first trained her.”

  “I never fell. And he’s not training her. She is supposed to be training him.”

  “If you say so.”

  The silence following his weighted statement was maddening.

  A sigh broke the blade sharp tension. “I’m going to go into the kitchen and supervise. I suggest you stay as far away as possible.”

  “Do you think I’ll cause a scene?”

  He laughed. “No. I just don’t trust you around Christopher and a drawer full of sharp knives.”

  I waited until the sound of his steps were absent from the hall leading to the theater room, each punctuated beat a reminder of the nail he’d so expertly hammered down.

  What were my feelings for Rebecca and why did I give even an ounce of a fuck who she let mount her beautiful body? It wasn’t as if I’d never let another man touch her in the time I had her. But then again, she hadn’t enjoyed those trysts as much as I had.

  There was a time before when Rebecca saw it as a punishment to have to feel the touch of a man who wasn’t her Master. But now? Now, she’d not only thought to challenge me when she’d demanded the keys to Christopher’s cuffs, but also happily taken him into her body without concern that it wasn’t my cock she was riding.

  Relaxing against my seat, I crossed one ankle over a knee, rolled my neck over my shoulders and made a decision to bide my time.

  In a few hours she would leave her fuckboy bound and alone, giving me the perfect opportunity to sneak past her to have a man to man conversation.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  REBECCA

  Greyson behaved perfectly during dinner. Taking a seat on the floor at my feet, he was a warm presence against my leg, his quiet strength allowing me to feel powerful when he allowed me to control his behavior. Yes, I knew he could easily overtake me if he decided to physically fight, but rather than attempting escape, rather than taking offense when I slipped him small bites of food beneath the table like a person would a hungry dog, Greyson remained patiently controlled while I ate my dinner and had a pleasant conversation with Sera.

  I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he was truly broken by anything I’d yet done, but while Greyson had called a truce in an effort to help me piss off Aiden, I was willing to overlook the fact that he was allowing me to control him rather than having no choice but to behave.

  Maybe there were multiple ways to Master a person, and as delighted as I was to discover that truth, I couldn’t help a question whispering repeatedly in my mind.

  Who was I really attempting to Master?

  The man who’d eaten dinner while kneeling at my feet?

  Or the one who’d not bothered to make an appearance since leaving me tied up and stretched out over the surface of his desk?

  Perhaps only one. Or perhaps both. I wasn’t sure while returning Greyson to the dark room and attaching his chains.

  Exhausted and thoroughly confused, I wandered the halls of the house during the early evening hours, not quite ready for bed, and too anxious to sit still by myself in one of the many rooms. Eventually I found myself in a dining room Aiden used to display his photos, the walls a canvas for the images of my face and body that he continued to update and keep new through the years that he’d owned me.

  Aiden preferred black and white to color, telling me once that the monochrome palette was superior for bringing out the true nature of his Courtesan. The first time he’d displayed his work was to cause embarrassment and horror, but through the years it became a reminder that a pair of cruel blue eyes so absent of emotion were the only ones that truly saw me.

  Footsteps were soft behind me. I turned to find Anthony slipping quietly into the room.

  I didn’t speak at first, giving him my back again as I returned my attention to the photos. The silence between us was too much to bear, the minutes passing by wi
th crushing patience.

  “Do you remember the last time we were alone in here?”

  He cleared his throat, the small sound too harsh for what felt like a moment of mourning. “I was a broken man that day as I recall. A beautiful woman sitting at my feet in an attempt to rebuild me.”

  “Do you remember the story I told you?”

  His voice was gentle. Although Anthony was a Master just like Aiden, his approach couldn’t be more opposite. Warm instead of ice cold, tempting a woman into compliance instead of forcing her to her knees. I’d once believed that Anthony’s methods would be preferable to any woman being trained, but after what I’d felt in the bathroom with Greyson, after understanding had swept in to teach me a vital truth about myself, I knew that the methods used by the best of Masters weren’t solely dependent on their own desires, but were perfectly tailored to their Courtesan’s kinks.

  “Something about Aiden allowing another man to fuck you while Aiden’s face was the one you watched. I believe you referred to him as an anchor, but I could be wrong on the terminology.”

  “My glue,” I corrected him as my eyes studied a close up photograph of my face. Lips painted a color that appeared black in the photo, teeth white against the dark shade, you could see faint marks on the sides of my mouth where Aiden had just removed a silk gag. I remembered the moment he took that photo, felt it as if it were happening all over again. “I called him my glue because he is the only person who can take all my fractured parts and put them back together.”

  Anthony didn’t prod me to explain my line of thinking, simply remaining a silent presence at my back.

  Sighing heavily, I turned to look at him. “I can’t orgasm without seeing his face in my thoughts. Another man fucking me and, without Aiden knowing it, he is still the only face I see. I’m some kind of awesome Master, aren’t I?”

  Carefully crafted words answered me. “What we do as Masters has nothing to do with our personal feelings. Not at first, at least. Not when it’s a job and hasn’t crossed the line into emotional entanglements.”

  “I highly doubt Aiden’s ever been entangled-“

  “I think you’re wrong.” Observant eyes met mine filled with certainty that I hadn’t felt in a long while.

  “I think you’re dreaming.”

  “And I think you’re playing a dangerous game.”

  Soft laughter burst from my lips. Anthony was always so smart. “Which one?”

  His brows lifted up his forehead. Interest piqued, he strolled farther into the room to take a seat. I watched as he crossed an ankle over a knee and looked up at me with rapt attention. “Explain.”

  He must have caught the way I checked the camera. “Aiden’s not watching us. He has more respect than that.”

  “Aiden has been watching me all day.”

  “For your safety.”

  “Is that his only reason?”

  A faint knowing grin was Anthony’s answer. “I’d assumed that was all part of your game. Making him jealous is like playing with fire.”

  “I’m a Master. I’m supposed to have sex with my Courtesan.”

  “That’s not what I mean. Fucking Christopher is one thing. It was expected. But to storm into Aiden’s office and demand the keys,” he shook his head, disbelieving. “To speak to him in a manner absent of respect. What were you hoping to gain if not the jealousy of a man who still in every way owns you?” Another quiet pause. “All of that after looking at Christopher while Aiden was fucking you in the bathroom. Rebecca,” he scolded, “We both know what you’re doing.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. Not because I was a moth dancing around the hottest of flames in my game with Aiden, but because Anthony didn’t know his warning was actually an admission. Pride unfurled its pretty wings inside my chest to realize that none of these men had figured out my true intent.

  “Can I trust you to keep my secrets?”

  A regal incline of his head, amber eyes lifting again to meet mine. “My loyalty to report to Aiden is only where your safety is concerned. As to your methods as a Master, he has no right to ask.”

  Gaze drifting to another photograph, one of my Master’s hand exploring the smooth plane of my stomach, I tried to ignore the knot of desire it evoked. Such exquisite hands; punishing when need be, but also skilled in the art of fracturing a woman’s most intimate resolve.

  With these photos on his wall I was nothing more than a butterfly with colorful wings pinned, yet with the acts that created them I was a maelstrom of carnal desire, pushed to limits I would never achieve with another man.

  “The only reason I pushed Aiden to punish me was so that he would degrade me in front of my Courtesan, leave marks on me that made it appear as if I were purposely undergoing abuse in order to help him. With Aiden’s behavior I gained my Courtesan’s compliance only because he now thinks I’m this poor abused woman who wishes to get back at her Master.” A glance over my shoulder at an astonished man. “Greyson fell for it hook, line and sinker without understanding that I happen to enjoy the abuse. Aiden’s jealousy was simply the cherry on top.”

  A bark of restrained laughter, surprise flooding amber eyes as his hands came together in a slow clap. “Very good, Rebecca. I think you’re learning to be a Master rather quickly.”

  My moment of triumph didn’t last long, Anthony’s next question knocking me off balance to learn I’d revealed too much.

  “Who’s Greyson?”

  Panic was a pulsing tension through my body. “Please, I shouldn’t have told you that. Fuck. Please, Anthony, don’t tell Aiden his real name. You know he’ll use it just to show my Courtesan he can’t -“

  “Calm down.” Standing from his seat, Anthony took my panicked hands in his, lifting them to place a kiss on the top of each one. “Be assured, Rebecca, that your secret is safe with me.”

  I felt instant relief, my shoulders withering. “Thank you.”

  He chuckled, his warm hands still holding mine. “To be honest, and this stays between us,” a pointed look, “but I’m enjoying this game between Aiden and you too much. Far be it for me to reveal anything that would ruin it. I have another secret between friends that you must keep as well.”

  I nodded, waiting for what he had to reveal.

  “I came here with the purpose to remedy the Society’s problem with Master Adam, but I stayed with the hope that you and Aiden would keep me entertained. You have exceeded my expectations.”

  “How so?”

  With soft laughter he released my hands to walk from the room. I thought he wouldn’t answer, but when he reached the door he stopped to turn back to me.

  “While you two believe this game is only between a Master and his Courtesan, you’ve failed to see the other players on the board.” A blink of his eyes and a genuine man with a heart of gold smiled kindly. “Have a good night, Rebecca. Try to get some sleep.”

  “I will.”

  He strolled off to leave me with that cryptic statement, my eyes returning to the photographs that documented a Master who could see a woman far too clearly to be fair.

  Reaching up to touch an image of my spine arched in wait of violent pleasure, I wondered if this game would be enough to open my eyes for once, making it possible for me to see Aiden’s soul as clearly as he saw mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AIDEN

  ‘Twas the night before ... I checked my new phone ... Thursday, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for a Master looking for a bit of good, old fashioned fun.

  The tips of my fingers trailed against the rough texture of the plaster walls, my footsteps silent as a thief in the night while I approached a familiar door.

  It was Christopher’s and my turn to swing through the motions of the most primitive of male dances, a time honored tradition where one would be left bleeding while the other ran off with the girl.

  I imagined two bucks running at each other, heads bowed to determine a victor, and while he lay bound to a bed by thick
chains, I’d taken the afternoon and early evening to sharpen my horns.

  The door opened with a satisfying creak, a fitting sound to hear when exploring a house full of horrors. I was the thing that went bump in the night, the ghost that haunted with a chilling cold, the monster under the bed just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

  He didn’t move when I slipped inside the room, the hallway light a quick flash illuminating the dark space before I closed the door to deliver us to velvet midnight. Leaning against it, I was patient while my eyes adjusted to the dark.

  “Rebecca?”

  A softly spoken question, his voice less pained than the last time I snuck into the room.

  “Afraid not,” I answered just as quietly. And wasn’t that interesting? A Courtesan in the initial stages using a name rather than Master.

  He laughed softly. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. Took you a while. Especially after I nicked your girl and made her bleed. I would have sworn you’d come charging in the bathroom.”

  Giving it a minute, I let his words hang between us, enjoying their ignorance, tasting the truth of Christopher’s mindset. Around me, shadows slowly took shape as my sight shifted to accept the lack of light, the corner of a table, the outline of a closet door, the heavy iron frame of a bed weighed down by a man who thought he could bait me.

  “Yes, I can see why you would think that. Rebecca hates pain. She prefers it soft and sweet. She cried for hours tonight after locking you away. So squeamish and frightened, that one.”

  Silence.

  One minute.

  Two.

  “I think we both know that’s bullshit. Your girl likes it rough. Her body was all up on my dick when I threatened her. And what a sweet fucking ride she is.”

  He wasn’t stupid, not when it came to recognizing Rebecca, at least. Still, I wouldn’t willingly provide him any information regarding my Courtesan/his Master. She was mine to know alone. Five years and there were still parts of her I hadn’t yet touched. I’d be damned to draw him a map of all her intimate nuances and secrets.