Claiming Cleo (Masters Club #2) Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Masters Club Series by Claire Thompson
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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“I’ve missed you, Cleo,” Master Jack murmured softly into her hair.

Her brain finally clicked back on, ordering her protective shields back into place. How dare this man just assume he could pull her into his arms? And why had she allowed it?

She pulled abruptly away, the sexy leather and chain body harness she’d chosen for the evening clinking lightly as she moved.

Calm down, she ordered herself. You’re a trained service slave, not some squealy, excitable sub girl. You are courageous and calm, no matter the circumstance. You have nothing to be nervous about. You owe this man nothing.

Deciding to ignore his over familiarity, she said with controlled deference, “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Sir.”

He furrowed his dark blond eyebrows as he regarded her, a bemused expression on his handsome face. If he’d expected a different reception, he had another think coming. Cleo was no longer that eager pleasure sub, pining for a man who saw her as little more than a distraction. That girl no longer existed.

She held his gaze, silently daring him to challenge her. She wasn’t behaving as a properly trained slave, but at that moment, she didn’t care. If he wanted to complain to her owners about her behavior, she would deal with the consequences.

After a moment, his expression relaxed. He smiled. “How are you, Cleo?” he asked. “This is quite a change, serving as a full-time slave. Are you happy here?”

“Very happy,” she replied, trying not to snap, not sure she’d succeeded. “Thank you for asking,” she added stiffly.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, though his tone belied his words.

What had he expected? That she would be sitting in some dark room somewhere, crying her eyes out? So sorry, Master Jack. Cleo Chapman had moved on. If he asked her to scene, she would, of course, be compelled to acquiesce, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She remained quiet, glad her status as a sub made it acceptable for her not to have to engage in small talk. She would not give this man the satisfaction of drawing her into casual conversation. Yet, her body was thrumming with nervous excitement. Her treacherous nipples had leaped to attention just at his familiar scent, and the crotch of her thong was damp, her clit pulsing softly at the memory of his sensual, masterful touch.

With a glance toward the back of the dungeon, he pressed on. “My good friend, Hayden, was telling me about the new bondage wheel. I’ve got it reserved for the next half hour. I’d love to give it a spin.” He flashed a smile.

She didn’t smile back.

His smile fell away, a touch of steel entering his tone. “Let’s see how it compares to the one in the London club, shall we?”

“As you wish, Sir.”

In spite of herself, she was excited for the opportunity. It would be her first chance to truly experience the wheel, which they’d only had for a week or so. Naturally, she and Brandon had tried it out while doing their daily dungeon cleaning. They’d strapped each other in and given the wheel a slow turn. But she had yet to scene with an actual Master.

As they stepped onto the large mat in front of the bondage wheel, Cleo nodded toward Brandon, who was on duty that night as a spotter and assistant as needed. Brandon grinned back, white teeth flashing against dark skin, his green eyes telegraphing his good-natured jealousy that she was getting to play on the wheel before he did.

“As hot as that outfit is,” Master Jack said, looking Cleo over, “I want you naked for this.” He lifted a small, wicked-looking single-tail whip from his gear bag. “I don’t want those chains in the way when I whip you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Cleo replied, her gaze drawn to the sexy single tail.

As she removed the chain-link harness and leather thong, Brandon and Master Jack adjusted the cuffs along the perimeter of the wheel to accommodate her five-foot-nothing frame.

“I’ll want you facing forward,” Master Jack instructed. “Those breasts are as perfect as I remembered, and just begging for some fresh marks.”

In spite of her firm intention to remain impervious to this man’s charms, a surge of warmth coursed through her at his compliment. While the rest of her was petite, Cleo’s size D breasts were incongruous with her small frame. She’d learned to accept them as part of who she was, and had long ago stopped being shy about it.

She took her place, leaning against the sturdy, padded red X at the center of the wheel. At Master Jack’s direction, she extended her arms and legs toward the perimeter, slipping her wrists into the soft leather cuffs as he Velcroed the upper arm straps into place.

Brandon crouched at her feet, locking her ankles and thighs into position as Master Jack brought the leather restraints across her waist and chest. His hand brushed her skin as he worked, sending a frisson of raw desire she couldn’t deny straight to her core. Just the act of being bound in leather and steel centered her. She closed her eyes, opening her body and mind to the yummy whipping to come.


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