The Master, Page 9

  She glanced over to his side where a cart stood, filled with silver and china. Once more he was certain he saw a flash of yearning in her expression.

  “I would like very much to teach you how to serve tea, little one. Is that something you would like?” He wasn’t usually uncertain, but with Sasha having had such a strong reaction to the tea, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

  “Yes, Sir.” She spoke slowly. “I would like that very much.”

  “Thank you, Sasha.”

  His hands had an itch to run his fingers through her hair or to graze the nape of her neck, but he restrained himself. There was no reason to touch her at the moment outside of him just wanting to.

  “Tonight, I’m going to demonstrate by serving you. You will watch, learn, and serve me at our next session. Do you have any questions?”

  She licked her lips and crossed and uncrossed her legs. “It doesn’t seem right, Sir. For you to serve me.”

  “It pleases me to do this.”

  She looked again to the serving cart. “In that case, Sir, I would be honored.”

  “Thank you, little one. Now no matter if you are serving only your Master, or a group of twenty, the host is always seated at the head of the table.” He motioned to her seat. “After everyone is seated, a slave will wait patiently for her Master to indicate it is time to begin. Your Master will probably have a preference as to how he would like you to serve in a group setting. Either you’ll begin with the guest of honor, then the females, followed by the males, and ending with the host or you will start with the guest to the right of the host and then proceed around the table, ending with the host.” He raised an eyebrow. “All clear?”

  “Yes, Sir. Will you share with me which you prefer?”

  He swallowed around the lump in his throat at how she wanted to know his preferences. How long had it been since he’d worked with anyone who had such a sweet serving spirit? She would make some Dom very happy one day.

  “I usually request the second option.”

  “Usually, Sir?”

  “I like to keep those serving me on their toes.” Those serving me. Why had he worded it that way instead of saying my slave? Perhaps because she knew he’d only collared one woman? He may have well said her name.

  He wasn’t sure if Sasha knew Kate was more than his submissive. That Kate had served him twenty-four/seven as a slave instead of a Dominant/submissive relationship like Daniel and Julie. He was afraid that knowledge might make her more timid or bring on a panic attack.

  But he was with Sasha at the moment and didn’t want to think about Kate. And Sasha was frowning.

  “Tea service is special for me, Sasha. You are only the second person I’ve done this with.”

  “Really?” she asked, and he was pleased to see the frown lines ease around her forehead.

  “Really.” He smiled and continued. “Tea is presented before the food, and you always serve from the right.”

  She listened attentively as he described how and when to pour and serve. With watchful eyes that missed nothing, she studied the way to position the cup, saucer, and spoon. Though she had been uneasy at the thought of him serving her, he noticed that unease grow as she realized how much there was to remember.

  He was going over how a slave was to behave while serving when she stopped him.

  “Excuse me, Sir, but can I go get my journal? There’s so much to remember, I’d like to write it down so I don’t forget.”

  “No,” he said. “You may not. I want to see how much you remember when you serve me in a few days.” Her frown lines returned. “It’s a learning exercise, little one. There will be no penalty if you forget something.” At her smile he added, “The first time, anyway.”

  He almost added that if she did well, there might be a reward, but before he could form the sentence, he remembered what she requested the last time he rewarded her. He decided not to say anything. After all, though he considered himself very self-disciplined, a man could only take so much.

  • • •

  The next day after closing the shop with Julie, Sasha waited downstairs instead of heading up to her apartment. She went to the break room to turn the light on and had just cleared the table of scattered papers when someone knocked on the door.

  She was expecting Abby, but Nathaniel stood at his wife’s side, holding a large box. Abby held little Henry, and Elizabeth was spinning around in circles.

  “Hey, guys. Come on in.” She moved to the side and let the family pass.

  “I’m so dizzy.” Elizabeth laughed.

  Abby shifted Henry and put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Come on in, silly.”

  “Hey, Sasha,” Nathaniel said. “Tell me where to put this, and the kids and I will get out of your hair. We have a date at the Children’s Museum.”

  “Dinosaurs.” Henry nodded. “Rawr.”

  “Break room would be great, thanks.” Sasha giggled as Henry made dinosaur claws at his sister.

  “He’s talked nothing but dinosaurs for days,” Abby said.

  “Rawr,” Henry said again.

  “Come here, big guy.” Nathaniel returned from the break room and reached for Henry. “Let’s go hunt dinosaurs.”

  “You guys have fun,” Abby said, lifting up on her toes and kissing Nathaniel.

  “Call me when you’re ready to go home,” he said against her lips.

  When he left, Abby turned to her. “Okay, I’m dying to know. Tea service? Is a regular pot not enough?” She spoke with a smile. Obviously, she had some sort of an idea what she needed it for.

  “Cole’s training me to serve tea, and I want to practice.”

  They walked into the break room, and Abby started unpacking the china pieces. “I’ve never done that, so I probably won’t be much help.”

  “That’s okay, I just need you to sit at the table.”

  “That I can do.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Sasha practiced serving tea to Abby as best as she could, pulling from memory everything Cole had told her the day before. There were a few times she wasn’t sure she was serving correctly, but all in all, she was pleased with what she recalled.

  After the second run-through, she plopped down in the chair beside Abby. “Okay, I think I’m good.”

  “I thought you did great. Of course, I have nothing substantial to base that on.”

  “That’s okay. You helped more than you know simply by being here and bringing the stuff over.”

  “I’m glad.” Abby smiled. “Since this counts as our weekly meeting, why don’t you tell me how it’s going with Cole? Outside of him teaching you tea service.”

  “So far, so good,” Sasha admitted. “He’s different than anyone I’ve played with. Such a complex combination of easygoing guy and no-nonsense Dominant.”

  He was such a protector. She remembered at tea how tender and gentle he’d been when she’d confessed her fears about never being collared. There had been a kindness and sincerity she’d rarely experienced when he spoke to her. For a second she let her mind wander and thought about what it would be like to be his for more than a retraining.

  “What’s the wistful look for?” Abby asked.

  Sasha wasn’t sure she wanted to admit what she was thinking, but then decided if she couldn’t discuss it with someone she trusted, who else was there?

  She dropped her gaze to the delicate flower pattern on the teacup sitting on the table. “I was just thinking about what it’d be like to be collared by someone like Cole.”

  Abby didn’t say anything. When the silence grew too lengthy, she looked up at the other woman. Abby’s face was unreadable.

  Sasha gave her a weak smile. “I know I’m not near ready for anything of the sort, but it doesn’t hurt to think, right?”

  “When you say ‘someone like Cole,’ what do you mean, exactly?”

  Sasha had a feeling there was more behind Abby’s question than what was being asked. “You told me you did some mental play
with him. You know what he’s like. Or was there more to the question?”

  Abby templed her fingers. “How much do you know about his relationship with Kate?”

  “I know they were together for a long time, they lived together, and she left him.”

  “There’s more. It’s not a secret or anything. Kate was his slave.”

  Sasha felt her body stiffen at the word. “Slave? As in . . . ?”

  “Twenty-four/seven. Yes.”

  “Wow. That is—” She stopped. She was going to say “completely unexpected” but after only a few seconds of thinking, the statement made sense.

  And turned her on.

  “Is what?” Abby asked.

  “Interesting. That’s interesting,” Sasha said, trying to hide her curiosity and unexpected arousal. Abby raised an eyebrow, so she continued, “Some of the comments he’s made make more sense now.”

  “And?”

  Sasha leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “You’re as bad as a Dom. You know that, right?”

  Abby laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been told that, but thanks. Now, tell me what else was going through your head.”

  “I think the idea of a Master/slave with Cole is hot.”

  The smile left Abby’s face. “Wait. What?”

  “When Peter suggested collaring me, he said he wanted to be twenty-four/seven on weekends.” Sasha was pleased to discover she only felt a mild uneasiness talking about Peter. Nothing at all like she’d felt in the past. “I didn’t like the idea, but somehow thinking about being that way with Cole sounds more attractive.”

  “Sasha.” Abby’s voice had grown very serious. “You aren’t in a position to serve any Dom like that right now, much less . . .”

  She stopped talking and looked down at her lap. Before she could say anything else, Sasha finished her sentence for her.

  “Much less one like Cole?”

  “I’m sorry, but yes.” Abby took a deep breath. “You’re only seeing a part of the Dom Cole is. He’s holding back a great deal because he’s an excellent trainer, but don’t be mistaken, he would not be an easy Master to serve.”

  “I wasn’t even thinking of it that way. I was thinking what it’d be to have his care and protection all day, every day.”

  “And all night, every night. As a slave, you give up control of everything. He wants to fuck at two in the morning, you fuck at two in the morning and you like it.”

  She knew Abby meant it as a deterrent, but just thinking about it turned her on.

  “Sasha, wake up.”

  His voice is insistent and even though the bed is warm and sleep tempting, she wants to please him more than she wants either the warm bed or sleep. He’s been working long into the night lately and while she goes to sleep alone, she knows it won’t be too long before he wakes her each night. She loves that he can’t sleep without taking her first.

  She rolls over to face him. “Yes, Master?”

  He is standing naked by the bed, hands on his hips, his erection jutting upward. He crooks a finger at her. “Come here. Arse to the edge of the bed. And make it fast, I’m hard as hell and need to fuck.”

  He doesn’t ask if she’s ready. He doesn’t have to. It’s her place to be ready for his cock at all times. She moves to the edge of the bed and feels the growing wetness between her legs as she does.

  He places a hand on each of her knees, keeping her spread for him, and enters her fully with one thrust. “Fuck, yes.”

  He presses deeper.

  “Hell, you didn’t hear anything I said.”

  Sasha snapped back to reality. “I heard the two-in-the-morning-fuck part.”

  Abby groaned.

  “Look at it this way,” Sasha said. “I’m safe in my fantasies.”

  • • •

  Three days later, she knelt in Cole’s office and questioned the intelligence in writing her slave fantasy down for him to read. Though her head was down, she could clearly picture how he looked reading her journal. He would be frowning and there would be worry lines between his eyebrows.

  It took him a long time to read.

  Finally, finally, she heard the chair scrape against the floor. She waited for footsteps, but only more silence followed.

  Right when she thought she would be kneeling forever, there was a soft squeak from the seat cushion followed by slow footsteps that came closer and stopped behind her.

  His voice was rough. “Interesting reading today, little one.”

  Glad I could keep you entertained. But she knew better and didn’t want to start the discussion out on the wrong foot, so instead she said nothing.

  “I was unaware you had an interest in being a slave,” he said.

  “Before this week, I didn’t know I had an interest, Sir.”

  “What triggered that interest?”

  “I had a talk with Abby.”

  “I see.” He gave a coarse laugh. “And Abby told you Kate was my slave.”

  “Yes, Sir. She said you were twenty-four/seven.” She prepared herself for the lecture on how she wasn’t ready and why she was foolish to even contemplate such a thing. Damn it, what was she thinking writing it down for him?

  “I can see the appeal,” he said, surprising her. “There’s a certain security involved, at least on some level. And, of course, there’s the mutual commitment. But, Sasha, don’t romanticize the position of an M/s relationship.

  “You are owned by your Master. You are his to tease and torment as he pleases. Serving him is your all-consuming passion and pleasing him your only goal. If he wishes to use only your mouth for a month, you will suck his cock and be thankful for the privilege to taste him. If he tells you to sit naked with your pussy displayed for his viewing pleasure, you will sit with your legs spread so he can enjoy the sight of his cunt. Even if he wants you to stay that way for hours and he spends most of that time in a different room. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, but wasn’t sure. She hadn’t gone through every possible scenario.

  “There are days you’ll feel your only worth is tied to your arse, your mouth, your pussy, and how often he decides to fuck them. For instance, I would require you to be naked whenever you were at home, command you to kneel and present yourself for my use when we were in the same room. And make no mistake, Sasha, I would use you and use you often.

  “In the morning before you left my bed, you would suck me deep into your mouth. I’d order you home for lunch and spread you out on my table, where I’d take my time feasting on your pussy before I fucked it. And after work, I’d keep you naked and spend hours driving you to the brink of orgasm until finally I’d allow you to come, but only with my cock buried deep in your arse.”

  He bent down and whispered in her ear, “Is that what you want, Sasha? To be my fuck toy to use when, where, and how I want? You honestly wouldn’t mind if, while you were reading a book, I ordered you to your hands and knees on the floor because I decided my cock’s need to fuck outweighed your need to read?”

  She stiffened at his words. There was more to it than that. And no, she wasn’t interested in being used only for sex. It was the whole dynamic of the Master/slave relationship that appealed to her.

  “It’s more than that, Sir. It’s not always like that.”

  He hadn’t moved from behind her. “I’m well aware of the many facets involved in such a relationship. I did have a collared slave for several years. And if asked, I’m sure she would tell you it was like that enough of the time.”

  “Then there was a part of her that needed to be used like that.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “The relationship wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did if she wasn’t being satisfied.”

  “Think beyond the sexual,” he said, not responding to her statement. “You own a business. What if your Master decides he doesn’t want you working? Would you be prepared to sell your part of the floral shop?”

  “Did Kate work, Sir?”

  “I allow
ed her to work. Do you honestly think you could live in