Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “So, BDSM training lite. I guess I can work with that.” He flashed her a grin. “Your contract says proper protocol. You might as well get used to addressing the Dominants here appropriately if you’re really going to do this thing. You may call me Master Mason or Sir—your choice.”
“Oh. Um. Yes, Master Mason.” Her tongue appeared for a moment on her full lower lip. She had a very sensual mouth, he couldn’t help but notice. What would it be like to kiss those lips…
God. It was tempting to just grab this newbie and throw her down, caveman style. It irritated him that her bullshit BDSM-lite contract precluded his using her body as he wished. It was yet another reminder that she wasn’t a serious slave trainee.
It reminded him of that old commercial about the dude saying he wasn’t really a doctor—he just played one on TV. Hannah wasn’t really a sub—she just wrote about it in her romance novels.
Pushing down his irritation, he said, “Here’s what’s going to happen during this session. I will assess how Lia handles needle and knife play. She’s a tough cookie, heavy on the masochism, light on submission, so I’ll keep the focus on her obedience. You will watch and learn.”
Returning to the wardrobe, he took out the sharps container, the first-aid kit and a roll of disposable exam table paper. He covered the bondage table with a long sheet of the paper and then turned to regard Hannah. “How do you feel about needles and knives? Are you the type who passes out at the sight of blood?”
Hannah drew in a breath. “Only my own,” she said with a nervous laugh.
Mason nodded. “Duly noted. I’ll be sure to use a blindfold for your session.”
“For my session?” Hannah replied, her voice squeaky with alarm.
Mason chuckled. “Relax. I doubt you’ll progress to that point—not with all the loopholes and caveats in your contract.”
Hannah scowled, a look that would have been grounds enough for a punishment, if she were actually in training. Why was he letting her get under his skin? He should just accept her on her terms and keep his expectations low.
Maybe he’d work with her on her submissive skills, or rather her lack thereof, or maybe he wouldn’t. But he’d be damned if he’d waste his time cajoling her into something she wasn’t up for. Just now he had an actual trainee to work with.
He glanced at his watch. “Lia should be here in a minute. Normally, I’d have you kneel on a floor cushion to observe a scene, but because I plan to put Lia on the table, you wouldn’t be able to see much from that vantage point. I can’t have you distracting me during edge play, so I’m going to cuff you to the bondage rack. You can observe from there.”
He waited a beat to see if she’d protest. She only stared at him, her silvery-blue eyes wide.
He cocked a brow. “Question is—do we keep your dress on or take it off?”
Chapter 14
Hannah stared up at Mason, who was regarding her with a shit-eating grin. She wanted to wipe that damn smirk off his face. She wanted to snap at him to quit calling her newbie. But, then again, she was a newbie. A newbie who was probably in over her head, modified contract or not.
Still, he didn’t have to be such an asshat about it. She could tell he was just waiting for her to refuse to remove her dress. He clearly assumed she didn’t have the courage.
She wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of watching her stammer and blush. “I’m fine with taking my dress off,” she said. Damn it. Was that a quaver in her voice? Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed. She kept her head up, her gaze on his rugged face as she tried to calm her beating heart.
He gave a startled laugh. “There’s hope for you yet, newbie. Get that thing off and stand under the rack, arms out in front of you, wrists touching.”
Absolutely determined not to blush again, Hannah reached for the hem of her sundress and pulled the garment over her head. She dropped it on the edge of the mat beneath the bondage rack and took her place there, wrists held out in front of her as directed.
Mason barely glanced at her as he reached up and removed the pair of leather cuffs that hung from a chain over her head. As he cuffed and clipped her wrists together, she admired his muscular forearms, and the tattoos inked on his skin.
There was the requisite chef’s knife on his right arm, outlined in scrolly design work. Hannah knew from her brief stint in culinary school that chefs often got tattoos not only as symbols of pride in their work, but also to hide the myriad burns and scars that came with the territory.