Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Beau wasn’t sure what he meant by that but decided to wait and see. “Sounds good,” he replied.
Chapter 8
Lia collapsed into her bed in the slave quarters, physically exhausted from the intense evening but too wound up to sleep. She hadn’t wanted the night to end. But, after applying more salve to her bruised bottom, Beau had basically ordered her to bed, informing her she’d had quite enough for one night.
It was shocking in retrospect to realize she’d let that man—who had just been a scene partner, after all, not her lover and certainly not her Master—tell her what to do. What was even more shocking was that she’d obeyed him.
She wasn’t sure what to think or feel about Beau Jackson. Yes, he was gorgeous. And holy shit, he was good with rope. And those hands, so strong and sure as they heated her skin—and her cunt—to a fever pitch. Still, experience told her that her raging crush on the guy might only be a response to how easily he’d taken dominant control of her. Once she came down from the high of the BDSM endorphins still coursing through her, she might feel differently.
Then there was the matter of his age. Eleven years was a significant gap. Though she herself was fine with it, what could a thirty-five-year-old tenured professor possibly see in her, beyond an occasional BDSM play partner?
But, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he was so incredibly hot tonight. So masterful. So sure. So sexy…
Whether or not that amazing scene was just a one-off, she remained almost painfully aroused, her clit throbbing. She definitely needed to climax if she was ever going to get to sleep.
Rolling to her back, she let her legs fall open. Closing her eyes, she slipped into the ropes Beau had so artfully wrapped around her and let the feel of his strong, stinging hand heat her blood as she rubbed her aching sex.
She came quickly, gasping softly as her body shuddered with release. Warmth coursed through her body as she imagined Beau’s big, strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her into a snuggling embrace as they drifted together toward sleep.
Whoa. Where had that come from? Dominant, sexy scene partner, yes. Warm and fuzzy snuggle bunny? No way.
With a wistful sigh, Lia gathered the quilt around her and burrowed into it. She slipped almost immediately into deep, dreamless sleep.
When Lia next opened her eyes, a glance at the digital clock by her bed told her it was already after nine. Sudden panic made her sit bolt upright. She’d overslept by more than two hours. Master Lawrence would have her ass.
As her brain clicked back on, relief coupled with chagrin washed over her. Making a sound that was half-chuckle, half-groan, she sank back onto her pillows as she waited for her pounding heart to slow its rhythm.
Not surprisingly, the quarters were deserted, the trainees having been roused hours earlier for their morning chores. Padding naked down the hallway to the communal bathroom, she used the toilet, brushed her teeth and took a quick shower.
She considered whether to dress for the day and decided against it. All the other subs would be naked. When in Rome…
When she came upstairs, she entered the dining room, her heart skipping a beat in anticipation of seeing Beau again. A lavish spread was set out on the buffet counter against the back wall of the large room, including platters of fresh cut fruit, pastries, scrambled eggs, bacon, ham and other goodies, along with a coffee urn and a pitcher of orange juice. Most of the chairs around the table were occupied by both guests and residents, but there wasn’t a tall, dark-haired hunk among them.
She entered the kitchen through the swinging doors. Mason and Hannah sat at the large oak table, their heads bent together over a recipe binder, mugs of coffee at their elbows. Hannah wore a cashmere sweater over linen slacks. While she’d completed a modified training program, she hadn’t joined The Enclave community, and was submissive only to Mason.
He was in his usual black T-shirt and black jeans. He and Lia hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms, her behavior during their botched blood play scene the month before the final straw on the camel’s back of her constant failure as a would-be slave girl.
The pair looked up as Lia entered. Mason, shaved head gleaming in the overhead light, gave her a curt nod, his expression unreadable. Hannah, however, smiled warmly.
“Good morning, Lia. Did you get some breakfast?”
“Not yet,” Lia replied. “It looks amazing though.”
She glanced around the large kitchen. The trainees Nick and Kinsley were at the sinks, naked save for their aprons, their backs to the room as they busily washed pots and pans.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, silently including Beau in the question.