Rebecca Mason has known heartache and sorrow in her life, losing everyone she loves. She’s on her own in San Francisco, lost in every way, until she dares to make the decision to chase her dream of working in the art world. It is then that he meets a rich, seductively powerful man who will become the Master she never knew she wanted and change her life forever. He will lead her on a dark, passionate journey where pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain, and where every limit she once had is no more. In this man, she will find solace to her pain, an escape from the ache inside her. And in him, she will discover a darkness she may never escape.
I dreamed of him. . . . He’d tied me to his bed again only this time I was facedown, unable to see him. I wanted to see him but I didn’t feel a fear of the unknown. He wasn’t touching me, but as crazy as it sounds, I could feel him. There was something about him in that dream that just reached inside me and slid straight to my soul. I had no idea what he was going to do to me. I had been certain, though, that he knew best. He’d make whatever we did, whatever he did to me, pleasurable. He’d know what I needed.
Fascinated by the dark fantasies in the journals she’s discovered, and the two men who have now found a place in her life, Sara McMillan finds herself torn between her new life and her past. Now, more than ever, Sara identifies with the lost journal writer, Rebecca, and is certain that something sinister has happened.
In the arms of the sexy, tormented artist Chris Merit, Sara seeks answers about Rebecca and ends up discovering things about herself she never knew existed. Chris forces Sara to reconsider who she is and what she truly wants from life, but not before his dark desires threaten to tear them apart. Her boss, Mark Compton, offers her the shelter to understand just what those needs mean to her, and what they might have meant to Rebecca, but can she trust him to lead her to a final conclusion to Rebecca’s story?
The elevator door dings open and I never have the chance to retreat. Chris grabs my hand and pulls me into his apartment. Before I can blink, I’m facing the entry room wall, one hand clutching the journal, the other flat on the surface in from of me. Chris steps behind me, framing my body with his bigger one and I feel the hardness of his body as intensely as I feel the hardness of his mood.
His hand settles on the center of my back, branding me, controlling me, and he pulls my bag and purse from my shoulder and dumps it on the floor. I feel him shrug away his jacket and he reaches for mine. It catches on the journal and his hand closes around it.
The air seems to thicken and for several seconds we hold the journal, both our fingers gripping the red leather. Erotic images created by Rebecca’s words play in my mind and I remember reading one of the entries with Chris. I wonder if he is thinking about that day, too, or something completely different. About Rebecca perhaps? I want to ask, but there is this sharp pinch in my chest that holds me back.
Chris takes the journal from me and I have no idea where he puts it. It is gone and my jacket follows. He steps behind me, and I forget everything but him. His hands settle possessively on my hips and his mouth, that delicious, sometimes brutal mouth, brushes my ear. “You want pain and darkness, baby, you got it.”
Shock slides through me at the unexpected promise and I think of us holding the journal, and of the dark entries inside that terrify and intrigue me. “What happened to me not being able to handle this part of you, Chris?” I ask, and my voice trembles with the question.
“Tonight happened,” he replies and there is nothing unsure about his voice, just hard steel and more anger. “And I damn sure want to give you a reason to think twice before it repeats.”
Conflicting emotions overcome me. I crave and resist the possessiveness I sense in him. I’m jerked out of this thought when Chris yanks my dress up my hips, exposing my backside. I hear the silk of my panties tear before I feel the bite of the material ripping from my body. His hands caress my backside, and the edgy tension in him is like a wave crashing into me.
He leans in, his lips brushing my ear, hot breath fanning my skin, promising delicious, forbidden fantasies only Chris can fulfill. “I’m going to spank you before this night is over, Sara.”
The threat is a velvety seduction and taut threat and my response is instantaneous. I cannot catch my breath, let alone form a coherent reply, but I never get the chance.
Chris turns me to face him, shoving my hands over my head and shackling them with one of his. “But first, I’m going to take you to the edge of bliss and pull you back so many times, you’ll think you’re going insane, just like I was when you didn’t answer your phone.” He tugs down the front zipper of my dress to my waist, unhooks my bra, and begins to tease one of my nipples. “Any objections?”
“Would they matter?” I whisper, unable to find my voice for the waves of pleasure washing over my body.
“Not unless you tell me to stop what I’m doing.” He leans in and nips my lip as he had the night before, laving the bite with his tongue. “But if you say stop, Sara, make damn sure you mean it because I will stop. Understand?”
“Chris-”
“Answer, Sara.” His fingers slide between my thighs, spreading the slick heat of my sensitive flesh, and leaving my nipples aching for more. I have the distinct impression he’s reminding me why ‘stop’ is a bad word.
“Yes,” I pant. “Yes, I understand.”
His thumb strokes my clit and slips two fingers inside me, filling me, stretching me. I pant with the pleasure, imagining the moment he is inside me. “Come before I tell you to and I’ll spank you right now.”
“What?” I gasp. “I can’t-”
“You can and you will.”
His words are as powerful as his touch, and I feel the bittersweet build of release. “Why do I get the idea you’d enjoy my failure?”
“Because I want to spank you.” His lips brush mine, his fingers stroking me with slow, sultry precision that is driving me wild. “And you want me to.”
I do and I have no clue why but the certainty that he will is so intensely erotic that my sex tightens around his fingers.
The beginning of an orgasm is almost as alluring as his hand on my backside.
His fingers are suddenly gone, denying my pleasure, and I growl my frustration. “Damn you, Chris.”
“Damn me all you want but you still won’t come until I say you come.” He strokes my nipple and flicks it back and forth. “I’m going to release your wrists and you will not move them. Understand?”
No, I do not understand! I scream in my head, but I nod my agreement, certain doing as he says is my only path to satisfaction.
His hand teasing my nipple falls away and he studies me, seeming to assess my willpower, or maybe just torturing me with the absence of his hands on my body. I’m ready to scream with the injustice of it when he sinks to one knee in front of me and his hands settle on my hips.
His gaze lifts and snags mine and I want to order his mouth to the most intimate part of my body. Slowly, his mouth lowers, not to the spot I crave him to be, but to my stomach. The soft, seductive touch of his lips, followed by the gentle stroke of his tongue, sends a shiver through me and my belly quivers beneath his mouth. The contrast of how tender he is in one moment and how hard and demanding he can be in the next, fills me with anticipation and is as arousing as anything I’ve ever experienced.
Slowly, he trails his lips over the tender skin, his tongue dipping into my navel, laving my hip bone, and finally traveling just above the V of my body.
I am breathing hard with the restraint I use to stop myself from reaching for him and the muscles of my sex clench so tightly it hurts. “Chris,” I plead when I can take no more.
He rewards my urgency by licking my clit. Yes, please, more, I think, but do not dare say out loud, for fear he will do the opposite. I moan and another lick follows and it’s nothing shy of sweet bliss when his mouth closes down around me. He suckles my swollen nub, drawing deeply on my sensitive flesh and using his tongue at just the right moments until I am going insane. Sensations ripple through me and I have no willpower, no control. I tumble into orgasm and he immediately pulls his mouth from me, denying me full satisfaction, leaving my muscles clenching in partial release.
My knees buckle but he is on his feet, wrapping his arm around my waist, and holding me up. He lifts me into his arms and starts walking toward his bedroom. His words replay in my head. Come before I tell you to, and I’ll spank you right now. Chris doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean and my heart races at the certainty of my punishment.
