Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Sydney exhaled a shaky breath. How did he always know the exact right words to say?
Master Michael walked into his closet, and when he came out, he was wearing a pair of faded jeans and seen-better-days boots. He’d put on a navy T-shirt that showed off his biceps that made her imagination serve up all kinds of naughty scenarios. Anytime she was nervous, he defused the feeling and lightened the atmosphere.
“I’ll start dinner,” he offered.
After applying a coat of mascara, then dressing in her skirt and top from earlier, she looked for her hiking sandals and couldn’t find them. Belatedly, she recalled she’d left them downstairs while they were having lemonade.
Barefoot, she headed down the stairs.
The house stood empty, but the patio door was open, so she went outside and saw him sitting in the same chair he’d occupied earlier.
“Steaks are marinating,” he told her. “I poured you some wine.”
As she sat, she accepted the glass.
“I hope red’s okay,” he said. “If not, there’s a chardonnay in the refrigerator.”
“This is perfect.” She had a feeling this wasn’t going to be like drinking the fermented fruit juice she’d had with her friends. “Thank you…”
One eyebrow raised, he considered her.
It didn’t take a genius to understand that he expected her to use formalities, even if they were not in the bedroom. That chafed, but at least he was clear in his expectations. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Salud.” He lifted his glass toward her.
The first sip sang across her senses. It was rich and full-bodied, definitely not like the wines that came out of a jug. “Holy cannoli. What is this?”
“Zinfandel. Not at all related to white zin.”
After the amount she’d consumed in Miami, she’d definitely never confuse the two. “It’s almost a meal in itself.” And the alcohol in the drink went straight to her head. At least she wouldn’t be tempted to have a second glass.
“Is it acceptable?”
“I bet the bottle has a cork, even.”
He frowned, as if he had no idea whether or not she was joking.
“I like it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think.”
“I can get you something else,” he said, standing.
“No, Sir. Really. I was teasing.” She leaned over to grab the shoe she saw sticking out from under her chair. But she didn’t see the match. “Where’s the other one?”
“Crap.” He helped her look before giving up. “The gate was open when I came back out. Were they expensive?”
She smiled. “Very, Sir.”
“I may have to get a second job. Or maybe I should get her a companion? Another nuisance to entertain her?”
“Are you kidding me? And have more of them?” she asked, pretending to be aghast. Then she shrugged. “I have been thinking about a new wardrobe. I could accidentally leave out all my things, one at a time.”
“You may not like all my replacements.”
“You did pretty well on the red shoes.”
“At least she didn’t get away with the flogger.”
“That’s happy news.”
After another sip of his wine, he lit the grill. “Would you like to eat out here? That way we can use the kitchen table for fucking.”
Her mouth dried.
Once they’d cleaned up after dinner, she learned how serious he was.
“Go change,” he said. “I’ve pretended to be a gentleman long enough. My inner Neanderthal is done being polite.”
She looked at him.
“Move it, my girl. Now.”
“Yes, Sir.” Hurrying her along, he slapped her rear.
Upstairs, she quickly stripped. Then all thoughts vanished when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
There were a few faint red marks on her skin, most of which she suspected would be gone by tomorrow.
Small indentations remained on her thighs and wrists from his bondage. The reminder of being tied to the fence and flogged beyond reason thrilled her.
She paused.
At some point while she’d been outside, bound and gagged, subjected to a dozen strands simultaneously lashing her body, she had stopped thinking.
Now, she tried to remember everything that had occurred. He’d been striking her belly, and an unusual peace had washed over her. Right after that, they’d made eye contact, then…
Nothing.
It was as if she’d drifted away.
She couldn’t remember what had happened between then and the moment he’d instructed her to open her mouth so he could remove the gag.
Once he’d loosened her arms, he’d swept her from the ground and carried her to a chair. This meant he’d somehow unfastened her legs without her realizing it.
Was it possible she’d reached subspace? She’d heard about that magical place, something she’d believed was nothing more than mythical fantasy. In fact, when she and her friend, Vanessa, had been having a discussion about it a year or so ago, Sydney had insisted it was a chupacabra, the legendary creature of folklore that people had heard of, but no one had ever seen.
But now…?
All she knew was that she’d felt groggy, as if she’d been in a deep sleep or had been plunged into an alternate reality.
The orgasm afterward, with the plug, had left her speechless.
As annoyed as she’d been prior to that, she hated to admit that he’d been right to keep her on edge. When she’d finally come, the sensation had been more intense than anything she’d experienced before.
Master Michael had taken her to unexpected, dizzying sexual heights. Every moment they spent together made her crave more.
As she shimmied into the skirt and zipped the jacket, she heard him moving around downstairs. He could wield a flogger and a spatula. Could a man be any more perfect?
After slipping on her heels, she checked her reflection to be sure her hair looked presentable.
When she descended the stairs, he was waiting for her near the table, his belt and four strands of rope in hand.
“Christ,” he said, eyes darkening a shade. “I knew the outfit was going to be hot, but I had no idea.”
“I hope your inner Neanderthal is pleased?”
“Oh, yeah. Very much so.” Slowly, he nodded. “Right now, I have two questions. Do you want your butt reddened to match your front, or would you like me to just shove my cock inside you?”
His words, along with the way he raked his gaze down her body, from her eyes to her toes, made her shudder. The comment had been bluntly sexual, but his questions held a serious note. “As usual, why choose?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He nodded. “Unzip that jacket. I want your breasts flat on the table.”
Desire slammed into her.
Like the expert he was, the moment she was in position, he secured her in place.
“The height of those shoes puts you in the perfect fucking position.” He growled the words as he dragged her skirt up over her buttocks.
Before she was mentally prepared, he smacked her ass with the leather, making her cry out and tug against the restraints.
“Would you like the gag?”
“No, thank you. I’d rather fucking scream the house down, Sir.”
“Do it,” he said.
Unfortunately, he backed off, warming her with a few gentle spanks. “One or two lasting marks are fine,” he said. “But I don’t want your ass black and blue.”
Turning her head to the side, she sought his gaze and challenged him. “What if I do?”
“Too bad. I’d rather do this numerous times than have to wait between sessions.”
Since she would soon be taking a couple of college guys on a mountain biking expedition, she would have loved a reminder of him to take with her. “Refusing to break your toys, Sir?”
“You’re much more than a plaything to me, Sydney.”
After several more swipes, he finally belted her hard enough that breath whooshed from her lungs.
When she lifted her chest, he placed a strong hand between her shoulder blades and forced her breasts back onto the table.
His deliciously harsh actions made her lose herself.
This kind of scene was exactly what she’d hoped to find when she went to the Den. Who knew that a gentleman cowboy would be the one to satisfy her?
The strapping continued, and he even caught her behind her knees. She roared out her anguished pleasure. In reward, he repeated the motion in the same spot.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Sydney started to sob. To his credit, he kept going, the rhythm soothing her and making her pussy wet.
Then his massive, sheathed cock was at her entrance.
Instead of taking her slowly, he parted her and shoved in with a single impaling stroke. The scratch of denim on her thighs told her he hadn’t even bothered undressing.
He put his hand on her nape, immobilizing her as he repeatedly took her.
It stunned her that he was ready for sex so soon after they’d finished, and that it was this rough fulfilled her.
“Come for me, Sydney.”
Master Michael used her body so completely that she was lost. When he reached beneath her to squeeze one of her breasts, she bucked, granting him deeper access, and when he took it, she screamed out her orgasm.
Bracing himself, he cupped her shoulders, then he moved inside her with short, quick motions before releasing a telltale guttural moan that signaled his climax.
He thrust a few more times, with a little less depth, before digging his fingers into her flesh and surging forward in a powerful motion.
She adored his primal, driving culmination.
Once they were done, they both stayed in the same position, together, connected, his fingers lightly on her hips. Surprising herself, she didn’t want to instantly end it.
Contentment unlike anything she’d ever experienced washed through her, bringing tears to her eyes.
At least a full minute later, he released her bindings. “Will you be okay if I leave you for a moment? I want to grab a washcloth. You’ll be able to hear me, and you don’t have to stay in one place.”
His thoughtfulness touched her. “I’m fine.” Even if she wanted to, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move right now.
He left her in her puddle of emotion, her thighs sticky.
This, what she had with him, was exactly what she’d been seeking.
Less than a minute later, he returned and pressed a cool cloth between her legs. Always, after a scene, he cared for her. She was already coming to appreciate that about him. “Thank you, Sir,” she murmured.
After helping her to stand, he used a second washcloth to wipe the tracks of her tears. Though some Tops offered post-spanking comfort, Master Michael went above and beyond.
“I smeared the finish on your table,” she said as he turned her to face him.
“Fair’s fair. I wrecked your makeup. And Christ, that’s hot.”
“Is it?”
“It means you surrendered. There’s nothing more rewarding than proof of your tears.” He lowered the washcloth.
For a moment, she wondered if he might kiss her, and she wondered if she would let him if he tried.
He smiled, leaned down, and softly said, “How about a fresh glass of wine?”
“I can finish the one I was already drinking.”
He shuddered. “I won’t hear of it. After sitting outside for so long, it’s oxidized.”
“Really?” She was clearly no connoisseur. “I thought that some people decanted red wine.”
“A much more controlled process.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’d know the difference.”
“My preference. Indulge me?”
“In that case, thank you.” He shot her a cocky, inviting smile that she found it impossible to resist. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”
“Not at all. Or, if you want, feel free to soak in the bathtub.”
Though that was tempting, she wanted to spend more time with him, so she opted for the quicker option—standing beneath the water’s spray for just long enough to be reinvigorated.
After dressing in one of his T-shirts and a pair of leggings that she’d brought with her, she rejoined him.
Neither seemed to have any need for any major conversation, and, over wine, they watched the sun begin its descent. “This is a beautiful spot.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He slid his wineglass onto the small table.
Considering him and the vast, empty distance, she asked, “Do you ever get lonely out here?”
Instead of immediately responding, he faced her, his hands pressed together, seemingly considering her question. “It’s an honor to sit here, and an obligation to the past, and the future. As for being lonely…” He shrugged. “There’s peace here. One that was ruined when I thought I might lose some of the land. Harsh lesson, but it taught me it’s better to be alone than with the wrong person.”
His ex, no doubt.
“How about you?” he asked.
“Me?”
“No desire to put down roots?”
“As you said, it’s better to be alone than with the wrong person. The relationship with Lewis made me regret my choices.” She thought back to her life with her parents. They’d moved every year or two, looking for new experiences. And all of their vacations had been exciting. “There’s too many places to explore, so many adventures that are still on my bucket list.”
“Such as?”
“Climbing Everest.”
“I should have guessed.” He grinned. “What intrigues you about that?”
“The challenge, right? Standing at the highest spot on the planet, a place so few people have ever been.”
“So what stops you?”
“It’s been a combination of the time and financial commitment. With acclimatization, ascent and descent can take a couple of months.” She took a tiny sip of her wine. “And while I’m away, I’m not working in my business.”
“That makes sense. What else is on your list?”
“This is one I don’t tell a lot of people.” She smiled. “Seeing penguins in the wild.”
“Penguins?” he repeated.
“You know, those adorable creatures that look like they’re wearing tuxedos.”
“I know what they are,” he replied wryly.
“Did you know that the emperor penguin can dive to about sixteen hundred feet. And some species can swim up to twenty-two miles an hour.”
“Seriously?”
“Fairy penguins are the smallest of all of them.” She grinned. “The African penguin used to be known as the jackass penguin because they seem to bray like donkeys.”
“No way.” At least he didn’t sound bored.
“And many mate for life.”
His eyes turned the color of the forest at dusk. “Now I’m finding your trivia interesting.”
With a laugh, she rolled her eyes. “Is that all you think about?”
“When you’re around?” He perused her. “Yeah.”
Flashing back to the kitchen table, her insides turned molten.
“Along those lines, are you staying the night?”
By way of an answer, she tipped her glass in his direction. “I’m ready for a refill.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. And we can build a fire out front, if you’d like.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Twenty minutes later, they were seated in chairs around the firepit, and logs crackled and hissed. Master Michael had brought out a bag of marshmallows and several long skewers to toast them.
When Jeb, the foreman, neared on his side-by-side utility vehicle, Master Michael waved the man over. Evidently not to be left out, Chewie trotted alongside him.
Master Michael scratched behind the goat’s ears before she wandered away to forage. A few minutes later, apparently seeking a new diversion, she jumped on top of an enormous boulder. Sydney watched in fascination as Chewie looked around, bleated, walked down the far side of the rock then trotted around and did the same thing again. The rock was craggy and had to be three feet tall. “What did you feed her?” she asked.
“Shoes?” he suggested.
Laughing, she popped another marshmallow on a long, thin stick.
Jeb was telling a story about Master Michael learning to work with horses.
“Takes a lot of patience and dedication,” Jeb explained. “Establishing trust. Spending time with it, grooming it, asking nothing in return. Are you interested in this?”
“Absolutely.” Through the years, she’d done plenty of riding, but on older, gentle horses. Until now, she’d never even considered the amount of skill having a quality horse required.
After finishing her treat, she lanced another with her skewer.
“Only then can you start to get it accustomed to a harness and lead rope before moving on to a bridle and saddle. Requires consistency and repeatedly using the same cues and signals.”
She was so engrossed in Jeb’s explanation that she forgot to constantly turn the marshmallow. Seconds later, the confection burst into flames.
Frantically she pulled it out of the fire and blew on it. The outside was charred, and the inside was a gooey mess. Happy, she sank her teeth into it. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had anything that tastes better.”
After putting her metal rod down on a rock, she sat back, sipping her wine, and listening intently as Jeb told stories of Master Michael growing up on the ranch.
For a few minutes, she was transported back in time, picturing him as a kid, then a young man.
“How long have you been here?” she asked Jeb.
“A lot of years.” He nodded. “Hired by Mr. Dayton a couple of months before Michael was born. Watched his first steps. Was here when he wrecked his truck for the first time, as well as the second.”
“Enough of that,” Master Michael warned, eyes narrowed.
“And then there’s the time a horse bucked him off at a rodeo and he fell into a pile of—”
“You looking to get fired?”
“A bale of hay,” Jeb finished, sporting a wide grin. “Wouldn’t ruin your reputation in front of a pretty lady.”
Both men laughed.
An hour later, with the bag of marshmallows empty and the moon riding high in the sky, Jeb said he’d extinguish the fire if she and Michael wanted to head inside.
As he closed and locked the door behind them, Michael swept his gaze over her. “I’ve got a couple of suggestions about how we should unwind.”
“Do tell, Sir.” She moved toward him to trace her fingertip down his chest, letting it rest on his belt buckle. “Do tell…”
* * * *
Almost three weeks later, as she crested Vail pass in her trusty SUV, headed back from Utah, Sydney cranked up one of her favorite open road tunes.
Calling on all of her resolve, she’d intentionally kept up with her regular life. She ran the always-challenging mud race and had just finished guiding a four-day trip to Moab that had included climbing, hiking, and mountain biking.
But as the trip had drawn to a close, she’d had greater and greater difficulty concentrating on anything other than how soon she could return to Eagle’s Bend Ranch.
Her preoccupation with Michael and his land was starting to bother her.
But turning up the music even louder didn’t help her banish thoughts of him.
As the vehicle’s tires devoured the miles between them, memories of their time together stroked through her mind like strobe lights.
She loved the new adventures he dreamed up, sex in the outdoors, a bare-bottomed spanking while they hiked, being secured to his fence, framing her in a window as he flogged her, taking her again and again to the edges of subspace.
Other times were companionable as they stargazed or took a horse out for a ride under the full moon.
In the mornings, she’d watch the sun crest the horizon, or drink a cup of coffee on the patio while Michael worked in his office.
Sitting outside next to a campfire was becoming a regular occurrence, as was chatting with Jeb and learning more about ranch life.
Every moment together was better than the last…
And Michael was beginning to matter to her.
No.Absolutely not.
Disoriented, terrified, she gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Sydney couldn’t allow herself to fall for him.
In order to preserve her independence, she had to focus strictly on sex and BDSM.
And yet his tempting invitations made that more and more difficult.
Even though she’d promised herself that she would limit her visits, the moment he’d invited her to join him on her way home, she’d accepted.
Her more rational mind urged her to cancel, go home, shower, relax, then get ready for her next job.
But there was no way that would happen.
Like a snowflake melting in the sun, she was powerless to resist him.
About an hour later, she left I-70 and headed west.
The rest of the drive seemed to take forever.
When she reached the ranch gate, Jeb was there, waiting, ensuring she didn’t run into trouble.
Each time she visited, she felt more and more at home. While it was comforting on some level, it was terrifying on others, mostly because it meant she was visiting too often. Even while she’d been gone, Michael’s land had beckoned, and an unwelcome part of her craved the peace and solitude he’d created and wanted to share with her.
And that was the crux of her sudden angst.
Her parents had taught her to embrace life, to seize as many opportunities as possible. In her relationship with Lewis, she’d shoved her inclinations aside.
It had taken her more time than she would have liked to run away.
And when she’d dumped the pieces of her collar, she’d promised herself she’d live her life on her terms, hitting the road when she chose, spending time with the people she wanted to see, working only for clients she enjoyed.
Her solo trip had been to the Bahamas where she’d sipped rum and enjoyed the sun as she’d healed from her bruises—emotional ones as well as physical ones.
As she drove onto Michael’s property, Jeb tipped his hat, and she waved.
Beneath the now-familiar tree, she parked, then opened the back door to get out her bag that she now kept filled with sexy clothes in addition to utilitarian garments.
Since her arms were full, she bumped her butt against the door to close it.
She was walking toward the house when she was yanked to a shocking and sudden stop, then dragged backward.
Breath whooshed from her lungs.
Before she could lose her balance, strong arms wrapped around her, steadying her. Next to her ear, Master Michael whispered, “Welcome back.”
“What the hell was that?”
He turned her to face him. “You’ve been lassoed,” he explained, eyes intensely serious. “It’s the best way to get the attention of a gorgeous woman and simultaneously remind her who she belongs to.”
She wanted to say she belonged to no one, but damn it, when he looked at her like that, her resistance evaporated. “I—”
“Say ‘yes, Master Michael’.”
“Anything you say, Sir,” she compromised. Her heart still raced, but she had to admit she liked his unusual greeting. “That’s a hell of a welcome.”
“Wait until you see what else I have in mind.”
“Oh?” The diabolical Dominant kept her guessing. And she adored that.
He kissed her senseless, devouring her, leaving her gasping.
Then he stepped back and smiled before releasing her from the lasso.
While she showered and changed, he waited downstairs. Then, when she joined him, sashaying into the kitchen on spiky heels while wearing a garter belt, stockings, and leather bustier, she had the pleasure of watching his mouth fall open.
“New?” he asked, sliding a glass of bottle of water onto the counter.
“For you, Sir.”
“Thank you.” His words were laced with approval and seduction. “I missed you.”
“I thought about you,” she admitted, taking a purposeful step toward him, playing the diva. “I almost masturbated.”
He scowled. “Almost?”
“It was close. So very tempting.”
Scowl deepening, he studied her intently. “But you didn’t?”
“Of course not, Sir.” Provocatively, she batted her eyelashes. “That would be wrong.”
“I’d have had to spank you if you had.”
“Really? And how would you have done that, Sir?”
“I’d have sat on that chair.” He pointed.
“And then, Sir?”
“I’d have taken you over my knee. Like so.”
Quicker than she could have imagined, he reached out and snatched her from the ground. He was sitting and had her over his knee in under three seconds, trapping her legs and bringing his hand down on her rear.
Yes. This was her every desire come true.
Hopelessly surrendered, she allowed her body to go limp.
He blazed her buttocks and that tender flesh right below the cheeks.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sir.”
Before she fully understood what was happening, he picked her up again. “I should go away more often, Sir.”
“I think you should never leave.”
Her heart lurched to a momentary stop.
But before she could reply, he sat her on the edge of the table, distracting her, allowing her to tell herself his statement was nothing more than heat-of-the-moment ridiculousness.
After forcing her legs apart and pressing on her chest until she was lying on her back, he pulled a condom from his pocket.
“Sir has one thing on his mind,” she noted as he dropped his jeans.
His eyes dark, he looked down at her, making her shiver from anticipation. She’d seen him in a lot of moods, but this one, pulsating sexual dominance from the moment she’d arrived, was new.
“Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you like you were missed, my girl.”
“Fuck me like you missed me, Sir.”
Before entering her, he sheathed himself and spanked her pussy half a dozen times, making her gasp. She thrashed her head. Holy hell. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but it thrilled her.
Holding her ankles, he dragged her forward so that her butt was no longer on the table. She hung suspended, having to count on him to keep her safe as he ferociously ravaged her.
Repeatedly, he slammed into her pussy, shooting her senses into overdrive. “Sir!”
“Tell me, girl. Tell me what you want.”
“Oh, Sir! I need to come.”
“Take it.”
She was lost. The pain from the over-the-knee spanking, the slaps to her pussy, the sensation of weightlessness, and the days apart had left her dizzy.
He moved quickly, propping one of her legs on his shoulder. She was still exposed completely to him, and he pushed on her clit.
Sobs choking her, she screamed as she climaxed.
But he was unsatisfied. Voice gruff, he demanded, “Fucking give me more.”
Master Michael relentlessly toyed with her as he thrust, forcing her over the edge in another shattering orgasm. On and on he went, holding back his own orgasm as he incessantly sought to break her.
By the time he ejaculated, her pussy was swollen and tender, and a sheen of sweat dotted her exposed skin. “That was…”
“A short demonstration of how much I missed you.” He looked down at her, a lock of damp hair falling over his forehead.
She released a shaky breath. “You really know how to roll out the red carpet, Sir.”
Even after he’d helped her to stand, Sydney wobbled for a moment before regaining her footing.
“You’ll be okay if I leave you for a moment?”
Once she’d nodded, he went into the small bathroom, and when he returned, his jeans were fastened. He looked respectable, but damn it, still so appealing.
After bathing her between the legs, he asked, “Would you like to shower while I pour you a glass of wine and finish making dinner, or would you like to be the sous-chef? Watching you dice and chop while dressed like that is definitely intriguing.”
“Oh.” At one point while they’d been text messaging, he had mentioned dinner. “Thanks for the offer. I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I need to go home. I have an early-morning flight.”
“I see.” His eyes turned the color of iced emeralds, snaking a chill down her spine. “I’m a piece of meat to you? A quick fuck between trips? A means to an end?”
Jesus. His awful words landed with the force of a single-tail lash, and she recoiled. “No.” Frantically she shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong.”
“Do I?” he countered, arms folded. “You stopped by for a quick lay.”
No. It’s not like that. “Sir… We have a misunderstanding.”
“Do we?”
Sydney rubbed at the goose bumps that prickled her skin, telling herself his reaction shouldn’t have surprised her. As they spent more time together, of course he’d make more demands of her. Like Lewis had.
“You show up here whenever the hell it’s convenient for your schedule. Get spanked and fucked, scratch your itch, then go on about your life without looking back.”
“Michael, please…”
“Clearly my mistake for thinking I was anything more than a goddamn convenience to you.” Icy venom dripped from his voice.
Damn it all. “Please…”
He remained unresponsive.
Too late, she recognized they had fallen into a routine, and she loved the hot scenes enough to keep coming back when she shouldn’t have. “Sir…” As her worst nightmare played out, Sydney squeezed her eyes shut. “Michael…” Suddenly unsure what to say, how to behave, she tried once more. “We never talked about anything more than sceneing together.”
“So that’s all you’re offering? Or should I say taking?”
Taking? His accusation stung. “That’s unfair.” She met his gaze then wished she hadn’t when she read the combination of anger and frustration starkly reflected in the stormy depths. But worse was the layer of hurt beneath the other emotions.
In that instant, he crushed her soul.
Softly, trying again, she said, “I never agreed to be your submissive, or anything else. I’ve told you about my past.” Frantically, she tried to make him understand. But his eyes had turned flat. “I…I thought you understood where I was coming from.”
“Then we have nothing more to say to one another.”
“Are you…?” She shook her head, trying to understand what was happening here. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“No?”
She’d waded into an emotional nightmare.
“It’s your way or no way, Sydney. Too damn bad if it doesn’t work for me. If I want something more than a casual fuck before you wave and jump back in your car.”
But she couldn’t give him anything more. Unless she risked everything. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s not enough for me any longer, Sydney.”
Her insides chilled. Almost always, he’d called her by an affectionate nickname. But now, he’d built some distance between them.
“Go on with your life like you want.” Coldly, he hooked a thumb toward the door. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Her thoughts swam, as if caught in a class six rapid. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Couldn’t. “I…” Raw emotion lodged itself in her throat, and she tried desperately to gulp it back. “I apologize…” Tears burning her eyes at his stinging rebuke—rejection—of her, she dashed up the stairs.
He didn’t follow.
At one time, he would have watched her, maybe even given her a spanking to encourage her along, but not now.
Never again.
When she slowly descended the staircase, bag in hand, he was nowhere around.
Her heart heavy, wishing they could talk but also recognizing the futility, she exited his house for the final time.
Hoping against hope that he’d come after her, she took her time crossing to her SUV.
Still stalling, she climbed behind the wheel.
But her Dominant was nowhere to be seen.
When she arrived at the gate, Jeb was there to wave her off. At least Master Michael—Michael—hadn’t forsaken her entirely.
As she drove through the exit and lifted her hand in farewell, he touched the brim of his hat. Chewie wandered over to join him and grazed on some weeds.
Using the back of her hand, she dashed away the tears that spilled down her cheeks.
Crushed in a way she never had been before, Sydney accelerated away, staring in the rearview mirror until she could no longer see Jeb or the cloven-hoofed terror who’d suddenly looked up.
Sobbing, she struggled to concentrate on the road ahead of her.
Once she reached Winter Park, she pulled off the road at a popular restaurant where couples ambled in, hand in hand.
A vision of Master Michael, arms folded as he indicated the exit, seared itself into her memory, and her emotions fractured again.
She couldn’t breathe.
How would she go on without him?