Hostile Takeover Hill, W (thriller books to read .txt) 📖

it’s really like. I think what you’re really worried about is that I won’t scare. How would you punish me? Spank me? Tie me up. Fuck—”

In a snap of motion, his hand closed over hers, forcing the wineglass back to the table. He caught her chin, leaning forward so she was staring into brilliant green eyes.

“Where is the key to this?”

Since her senses were reeling from his proximity, it took a moment to realize he was asking about the collar.

She could go with the coy, smart-ass answer, like “Where do you want it to be?” or “Why don’t you search me to find it?”, but while she knew what she was, it was more fantasy than experience. She’d never had it tested under the searing regard of a fully unleashed Master. This wasn’t a practicing Dom with protocols and reasonable discussions of limits. Ben was an actual, in-his-blood Master, who demanded only one response from a submissive. The unembellished truth, delivered promptly.

“It’s… The key’s attached to my navel jewelry.”

His gaze still locked on hers, he dropped a hand to pull the blouse free of her skirt. When he found the tiny key, his attention dropped to examine the connection. She bit her lip at the pressure on the catch bead, a jeweled flower that provided the fastener to hold the key there. His touch passed over her navel, and she couldn’t help it, a small noise came from her throat, her thighs tightening at the moisture that came from her sex. His eyes flickered up to her face. “Part your legs,” he said in that same hard tone.

She obeyed, but as she did, everything quivered. Her nipples were stabbing against her bra, and her palms were damp.

He unhooked the key, smoothed her blouse back down over the area. “Lift your chin.”

As she did, he fitted the key to the lock. The collar loosened, came away in his hands. He laid it on the table between them. Her neck felt too bare, too light without it. Once she’d made her decision about Ben, she’d put it on, resolved not to take it off, and she’d been wearing it over a year. His gaze lingered on her neck, then lifted to hers. “Look down at the table, and don’t look up unless I give you permission.”

She was going to hyperventilate. Everything was tightening up inside. Her skin was cold and hot at once, and that trembling continued. It was as if she had the flu. Was he having the waiter box up the dessert to take her to the club? Was he going to agree to her desires? Was she ready for that?

“A slave doesn’t collar herself,” he said, his voice low. Uncompromising. “If you’ve ever set foot in a club, that won’t happen again. That’s not your world. You defy me on this, I won’t hesitate to take it to Cass and Lucas.”

He was chastising her like a child, but his orders, his touch, had been that of a Master taking sexual control. Another emotion swept through her now.

Anger.

She lifted her gaze, locked with his. Before she could respond, the waiter came back, carrying a to-go box. Ben rose, lifting his hand for one of the slow-cruising cabs patrolling for evening patrons. The waiter handed her the dessert box when Ben brusquely gestured for him to do so, then the man wisely retreated. They were too crowded in the dining area for her to try digging in her heels, so she set her chin, allowed herself to be guided back to her feet and out of that area to the waiting cab.

However, once there, she stopped and faced him, extricating her elbow from his grasp. He’d pocketed the choker, and she wouldn’t wrest it from him, no matter how much it meant to her. If he was right, and she knew he was, it was his to put back on her. She wondered if he’d read the inscription on the back of the pendant. If he did, would it have the same meaning for him it had for her?

Giving her a hard look, Ben spoke to the cab driver, telling him Cass’ address and handing him enough to cover fare and tip. He opened the door for her. “Get in. You’re going home.”

She set her chin. “I’m twenty-three. I’m no longer a child, Ben. Cass and Lucas don’t have any say in my decisions about this.” She drew a breath. “If you’re not willing to be my Master, you don’t either.”

The anger was strong enough she was tempted to tell the driver to take her to Progeny instead, right in front of him. But she wasn’t going to go without him, and she couldn’t bluff a man like Ben. She had to be willing to do everything she said she was going to do.

She got into the car with quiet dignity, though she was vibrating with emotion. As he closed it, he stepped back without saying anything more. He’d reverted to that unsmiling expression, his eyes so calculating, seeing so much. She wondered if he was going to end her internship, try to block her from seeing him again. But that was what could happen tomorrow.

While she hadn’t been completely prepared for the emotional impact of his rejection, she had anticipated something like it happening. There were always snags in a negotiation, setbacks. The key was a backup plan, and she had one. When she’d come up with it, she’d wondered if she’d have the bravery to pull it off. Now, galvanized not only by his stubbornness and anger, but those moments she’d seen and felt something entirely different from him, she had the courage to use a battering ram if necessary.

As the cab moved away, leaving him behind, it gave her the space to take some deep breaths, marshal her thoughts. It was time to stop reminding him of the child she’d been and hit him full force with the woman she was.

* * * * *

Ben brought the choker