Masters of the Shadowlands 3: Breaking Free

Fear ran through her. Why had Z sent Patrick away? And why was that other Dom here?

Master Z studied her, then lips compressed; he shook his head. “Beth, I fear the Shadowlands is not the best place for you. I think—”

“No!” Horror rolled through her. He would kick her out? Cancel her membership? She’d have nowhere to go except the Tampa clubs where no one would watch out for her. She would have no real safety, would never be able to relax knowing Kyler could walk in at any time. Stupid to need this so much, but she did. “No, please, Master Z.” She yanked at her cuffs, wanting to drop to her knees before him. “I…whatever you want, I’ll do. Beat me if you need to—” Beat her? Just the idea strangled the voice in her throat. “No…I mean…”

He stepped closer, cupped her face with his hand. “Little one, you are not getting what you need here. I suppose we can try one more time, but you’d have to actually cooperate and give up some control. Can you do that?”

“I will. I promise, Sir.” Maybe she didn’t get everything she wanted from coming here, but it helped. Helped ease the stranglehold the coldness inside had over her emotions, kept it from growing and taking over her life.

“Then this is what will happen.” He nodded to the sinister man standing to one side. Beth glanced at him, met unwavering dark eyes. His gaze captured hers, pinned her in place. She stared at him, barely breathing, before ripping her eyes away.

“Master Nolan will be your Dom tonight and in the future,” Z said. “As long as he is willing to top you, you may remain. If he gives up, I’ll terminate your membership immediately.”

Have that Dom top her? Take her under command? Panic filled her as her carefully built world cracked, splintering like antique glass. “Master Z, please.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Please don’t do this. I don’t like him. It can’t—”

“Have you met him?”

She shook her head.

“Beth,” Master Z said quietly, “I’ve known Master Nolan for years. I trust him. What’s more to the point, I trust him with you.” He tilted his head and waited for her answer.

Beth’s breath hitched. Master Z didn’t threaten; everyone knew that. It was one of the things that made him such an effective Dom. So either take the cruel-looking Dom at his side or leave forever. “I’ll try, sir,” she whispered, although her insides shook.

“Excellent.” Master Z stepped back. “Nolan, your sub, Elizabeth.”

She looked at the Dom. Everything about him seemed hard. Mean. At least six feet tall, broad shouldered, thickly muscled. His darkly tanned face was the reddish-bronze of Native American ancestry. His eyes were black. Reaching his upper back, straight coal-colored hair, exactly as long as hers, had been tied with a leather band. A long white scar ran over his left cheekbone. She winced, knowing exactly how that must have felt.

His menacing gaze ran over her slowly, inch by inch. He didn’t miss anything; his eyes lingered on her scars, her breasts, her legs. At least she still had on some clothes, was all she could think. What would he do to her? If he whipped her, she’d leave. She’d have to leave. She bit her lip to hide its tremble.

“Physical problems?” he asked Master Z.

“None. Her medical forms state she’s in good shape.” Master Z gave her a fleeting smile and simply walked away, leaving her with this stranger.

“Spread your legs,” he snapped, and she did, the panic wrapping around her and filling her head. He brushed a hand across her pussy, through the red curls, and grunted when his hand came back dry. He looked…brutal.

Kyler was elegant, slim and smooth, and a monster. How much worse would this man be? A tremor ran through her.

He saw her reaction immediately; she had a feeling nothing escaped those piercing eyes. The authority and power that radiated from him demanded submission, and she dropped her eyes.

This was an experienced Dom, the type she avoided.

“Your safe word is red. If I think you’re using it before you need to, I will stop immediately, and we will be done permanently.” His deep voice sounded like gravel being poured out of a truck, his words taking on the impact of boulders striking the earth. Her shoulders tried to hunch, to prepare for the pain.

“You may use yellow. I will take it into consideration and may or may not stop. Look at me now.” His eyes were cold, empty as a starless night. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” The quaking increased, expanding from her stomach and into her chest. She tried to ignore it. She could do this. She was in the Shadowlands, and there were people everywhere. They weren’t alone.

“You may address me as Master, Master Nolan, or Sir.” His lips twitched. “My Liege or Sire will work occasionally if you’re trying really hard to suck up.”

“Yes, Sir.” A joke…or not? She couldn’t tell, and that realization scared her to death. At one time, her survival had depended on the ability to read every nuance in a voice, every expression in a face. He gave her nothing.

“If I institute high protocol, you will keep your eyes lowered and speak only when permitted. However, during a scene I want your eyes on me.” He tilted her chin up, met her eyes in a look that seared straight down to her toes. “You have pretty eyes, Elizabeth. Keep them on me.”

A compliment? The flash of pleasure at his words disappeared as the sound of her full name engulfed her in the memory of Kyler and how his voice would thicken with anticipation. “Elizabeth, you didn’t… Elizabeth, you forgot… Elizabeth…” She cringed.

Master Nolan’s eyes narrowed, the pressure of his fingers increasing on her chin. “Your eyes,” he said. A pause. “Pretty.” A pause. “Elizabeth.”

She didn’t move when he said her name, she knew she didn’t, but his head tilted slightly before he asked, “What would you prefer to be called?”

“Beth. Please call me Beth, Sir.” Would he do that or would he prefer to punish her with her given name?

He nodded and released her. When he stepped back, she managed to pull in a breath.

“Normally we would discuss your limits, wants, and needs at this point in time.” He glanced at her hard limit paper, tore it in half, and dropped the pieces on the floor. “The normal procedure obviously hasn’t worked out for you.” He lifted his eyebrows and waited.

No, no, no. She bit back the words. Took a breath. Another. Unable to speak, she managed a nod.

“My job is to give you what you need. We may not agree, so until I know you better, I will not gag you. What is your safe word?”

“Red, Sir,” she whispered, the tremors spreading to her legs.

“Very good.” He ran a finger down her face, his touch warm on her chilled skin. Grasping her hair in one big hand, he tilted her head back to take her mouth, not permitting any movement, and yet she didn’t receive the crushing kiss she’d expected. Instead, his firm lips teased her mouth, and his tongue brushed over her lips until she opened.

He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, as if he had no plans to do anything else. Ever.

Pleasure fizzed through her like a shaken-up soda.

When he finally drew back, her lips burned and her head spun. No one had kissed her like that since…since high school when she and Danny parked his car and would kiss all night. After a second, she blinked back to reality and realized in amazement that she’d forgotten her fear for that time.

His intense gaze focused on her face. “You kiss well, sugar.”

She had a second of delight from the compliment.

He ran a finger down her cheek. And then his hand continued down her neck, her chest. His fingers slowed at the whip marks, and a flash of anger appeared in his eyes.

When he stroked along the swell of her breasts, she stiffened. Would he touch her below now? Was he planning to whip her? She couldn’t…

His fingers opened the front of her corset, tiny hook by tiny hook.

“No.” The word escaped. She’d been naked before, but he was different from the other Doms.

One eyebrow raised, and his gaze stabbed her to silence. The corset dropped onto the wood floor.