Master Me Read Online Free Page A

Really, I do.”
    I searched his eyes. He appeared to be sincere.
    “Then why—why did you ignore me all through dinner?”
    His laugh was edged with mockery. “Did you want my attention, little one?”
    My cheeks burned.
    He cupped my chin. “I thought you might be more comfortable if I wasn’t undressing you with my eyes. Believe me, I saw you, Sarah. I saw your gesture of submission, and rejoiced.”
    He bent to me and pressed those arrogant, sensual lips to mine. This kiss was different from the ones in his room. It was deep and quiet, like a pure forest pool. Our mouths locked. Our breath mingled. I seemed to feel his thoughts, probing, questioning, inviting me to fall further under his spell.
    I forgot where I was. I was loose, wet, ready to let him take me then and there. When he finally broke the kiss, I felt almost physical pain.
    “They’re waiting for me now, your friends. They’re dying for my company, too.” He gave an evil chuckle that reminded me, once again, that he was a rock god and I was just his groupie. “I’ve got to go now.”
    Then his voice became velvet and I melted once more. “Tonight, Sarah. Eleven p.m. I’ll expect you in my room. If you’re ready for more—come to me then.”
    Before I could reach out to grab him and hold him back, he was gone.
    * * * *
    The next two hours were possibly the longest in my life. I couldn’t focus on my book. I kept hearing Geoffrey’s velvet voice saying, “If you’re ready for more…”
    I wasn’t ready. Maybe I’d never be. I knew, though, that I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let this chance slip away. My body buzzed with tension, anxiety and lust more or less indistinguishable. I tried to picture what it would be like, but my imagination was not equal to the task. What did I know about dominance and submission? Sure, I’d seen Nine 1/2 Weeks like everyone else, but I figured that was just fantasy—though the film did affect my dreams for days afterward.
    “You must give me your trust,” he had told me.
    Could I do that? Was that even wise, to surrender myself to someone who, despite my knowledge of his reputation, was basically a stranger?
    I replayed his delicious kisses over and over. My pussy grew wetter and more swollen with each passing minute. I considered pulling my vibrator out of the drawer, to cool myself down and bolster my rational capacity. I knew somehow that Geoffrey wouldn’t approve. He wanted me to wait, to build up the pressure. That was why he’d barely touched me in the foyer. He wanted me hungry.
    Lying fully clothed on the chenille bedspread, I was acutely aware of my body—aching nipples, damp thighs, pulsing clit. I circled a wrist with my finger and thumb, wondering about sensations of rope or leather. I would have sworn that I was one hundred percent alert, counting the seconds until my summons. Yet somehow I drifted off into sleep.
    I bolted upright some time later. My bedside lamp made a lonely pool of brightness. The window showed a square of solid black where there had been deepening twilight before. I snatched my alarm clock and peered at its face. Eleven oh five! Fear shot through me like an electric shock.
    Shuffling into my sandals, I raced down the hall to his door at the end. My heart felt as though it would split my chest. I sucked in a lungful of air and knocked.
    “Enter.”
    One word only. A command. An invitation. I turned the knob, my knees wobbly, feeling as if I was moving through Jell-o.
    Geoffrey had moved the armchair to the open window. He sat in profile, breathing the night air, but turned his head towards me as I crept into the room. For the briefest instant, I saw something sweet in his expression—gratitude, relief, maybe joy. Then his face transformed into a mask of arrogant superiority.
    “You’re late.” He didn’t rise to greet me.
    “I’m sorry, sir…I fell asleep.” Desperation clutched at my throat at the notion that I had displeased him.
    “Excuses will not help you