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  “Yes.”

  “Are you all right?”

  Mia’s numbed brain couldn’t make sense of the question. She couldn’t find the words to answer.

  “Let me come over,” Ronni said.

  “No.” Mia answered quickly, her tongue at last able to work. Besides being pregnant, Ronni had a husband and children to take care of—she didn’t need to come across town to babysit her coworker. “You stay with your family.” She knew Ronni must be shaken up as well, even though Serina wasn’t her client. The whole office would be affected.

  “Are you sure?” Ronni asked, her voice threaded with concern.

  “Yes. You stay with Hal and the boys. I’m all right.”

  Belatedly, she thought to ask, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay.” Ronni let go a gusty sigh. “It’s so sad. Such a waste.”

  Waste. “Yes.”

  After the phone call ended, self-recriminations and regrets churned in Mia’s brain. She was sitting on her sofa, mindlessly gazing at the television without seeing it, when the smell of something burning in the kitchen assaulted her nostrils.

  “Oh my God.” She jumped from the sofa and ran into the kitchen to take the carrots off the burner. They were scorched black and stuck to the bottom of the pan. Smoke hovered in the air. Mia coughed and dumped the pan into the sink. The chicken she had planned to prepare lay naked and pale as a corpse on the counter. She covered the plate and placed it back in the refrigerator.

  She went back to the living room and sat. Time passed, and the room grew dark, but Mia made no effort to turn on her lamps. She sat staring at the still-silent television, the glow of its screen the only illumination in the room.

  Suddenly she grabbed her phone and punched in a number. When someone picked up, Mia spoke.

  “Master. I need you.”

  * * * *

  She’d called him Master. And she did it not because he commanded, but in surrender to her own needs. Chess hadn’t realized, until he’d heard Mia’s voice, just how much he longed for that acknowledgment.

  The moment she entered his apartment, she fell to her knees before him. “Master, put the collar on me.”

  The thrill that went through him when she named him Master quickly disappeared when he saw her face, ghostly white. Her beautiful brown eyes were swollen and red, rimmed with misery. She was trembling—but not from sexual anticipation. Something was very wrong.

  He found his voice. “You don’t tell me what to do, sub.”

  She whispered, “Forgive me, Sir.” She posed with her legs spread and her hands palms up on her thighs. She gazed downward, as was proper.

  But Chess wanted to see her face. “Look at me.”

  She obeyed, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “Why are you here?” Chess asked her quietly. Just seeing her anguish made his heart quicken in fear, but he forced himself to remain calm for her. She needed him strong now.

  “It’s my fault…”

  “What’s your fault, Mia?” He didn’t think to call her Ruffles now. They weren’t playing. This was deadly serious. “Tell me what’s happened.”

  It spilled out of her in a rush. The girl Serina. The ex-boyfriend, her baby’s father. A senseless murder that would leave a child without either of his parents.

  “She told me that Gary was bothering her, but it was more than that. I should have known.”

  “How could you have known?”

  “Just the way she said it… Serina was scared of him. I should have pushed her to tell me the truth. I should have—”

  “Mia. Quiet.” He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, tell her none of it was her fault. But she wouldn’t be able hear him now—her brain was running at warp speed. She was determined to convict herself of Serina’s death.

  Mia felt responsible for others, and now that desire to take care of everyone had come back to bite her. He had to redirect her thoughts, help her somehow, but he felt at a loss. This was bigger than anything he’d ever dealt with. “I want you to be quiet now. Eyes down. I want you to clear your mind. The only thing you should be thinking of now is how to serve me. I’m your Master.”

  Mia’s gaze fell again, and she murmured something.

  “Mia, I told you quiet.”

  She lifted her head, intentionally disobeying him. “Punish me, Master.”

  “I don’t stand for topping from below; you better learn that right now.”

  “It’s my fault Serina died. You must punish me,” she insisted. “You must!”

  “You want me to punish you, slave? Should I take you to the club and strip you naked for everyone to see? Then what? Stretch you on the St. Andrew’s cross? Take a single tail to you? Do you know the kind of marks it can leave? Or maybe you’d rather I use a cane. That hurts like a motherfucker. You think anything we’ve done has prepared you for that? You don’t have a clue what pain really is.”

  “I don’t care!” she cried fiercely.

  Chess knew it was only Mia’s despair speaking. He had no problem administering pain when a submissive desired it, but Mia was too messed up emotionally right now to know what she wanted. She thought physical punishment would ease her misguided guilt.

  He wasn’t a therapist or a priest. He couldn’t give psychological counseling or offer absolution. It would be completely unethical of him to lay a finger on her in this situation. There was only one thing he could do.

  “Red,” he said. There would be no scene tonight.

  Mia’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?”

  “I said, ‘red.’ Get up, Mia.” Chess reached down to help her stand, but she wrenched away from him, falling onto her side. She scrambled to her feet on her own, her eyes wide with astonishment and desolation.

  “You can’t.” Her voice was strained.

  “I can. A Dom can safe word just like a sub can, any time things get dicey. It’s a two-way street.” His tone was firm and unyielding, belying how he really felt. How he longed to take her in his arms, hold her and comfort her. But she wouldn’t let him touch her now, not the way he wanted to.

  “But I’m consenting…”

  “You can’t give proper consent; your mind’s not in the right place. I’m not going to punish you now, Mia. When I punish you, it’s to give us both pleasure. Right now you’d let me flay the skin right off you until you lay bleeding on the floor. You’d let me damage you out of some crazy sense of guilt. I’m not going to do it.” Chess started to turn away. He had to. He couldn’t stand looking at Mia’s uncomprehending, anguished face.

  His chest felt hollow. Mia had only come to him and called him Master because she needed someone to hurt her. Really hurt her. It wasn’t because she wanted him.

  Before he could completely turn from her, Mia’s pain turned to rage, and her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t walk away!” She flung herself at him and grasped the front of his shirt with both fists. “You can’t! Don’t you understand? You must punish me. I should have known!”

  She was crying full force, tears streaking her face and sobs erupting. Chess grasped her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Stop it, Mia. Calm down.”

  Mia pulled at his shirt, pounded him with her fists. “You’re such a great Dom, yeah! Master Chess…all the subs want a piece of him… I wonder how many of them know what a pussy you are…” Saliva flew from her mouth as she punched and smacked him on the chest and shoulders. “Can’t handle one pushy little sub…”

  “Stop it right now!” he roared, squeezing her shoulders so tightly he lifted her to her toes. Mia went as limp as a rag as he brought her to his chest. She collapsed against him, her sobs jagged and raw.

  He stroked her hair while his other arm held her tightly to him. His eyes burned and his throat ached with sadness. “My girl…my sweet girl…”

  He scooped her up and carried her down the hall to his bedroom.

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as Chess picked her up, she went flaccid in his arms. When
he laid her gently on the bed, her tears had stopped, though the tracks still wet her cheeks. She gazed at the ceiling as though in a trance, her features as stiff and expressionless as a mask.

  His chest constricted painfully. He wanted to pull her out of wherever she’d retreated to, that deep pit of misery and despair. “Mia…” Gently he fingered her hair.

  Her eyelids flickered, and she gazed at him distantly, as though he were a stranger. He needed to reach her, to connect, drag her out of the darkness. What he did next, he’d never done with any sub. He kissed her on the mouth.

  Mia’s lips were soft and sweet. They yielded passively to his kiss at first but soon responded urgently as her need matched his. She slid her hands up around his shoulders, fingers pressing deep into his flesh as though to keep him from slipping away. Their tongues flickered against each other, caressing sinuously.

  Chess pulled away from her to drag air into his lungs. He panted like a marathon runner climbing that last hill, in sight of the finish line. Mia breathed just as hard.

  It was too much, but not enough. He never kissed his subs. He played with them, teased and tortured them, made them come, but he never kissed them, and now he knew why. It was too intimate. Brought him too close to a woman in a way that frightened him.

  Or maybe it was only that way with Mia. Even now, as he warned himself to keep his distance, he knew he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t. Because he needed Mia more than he feared losing control.

  He bent low to kiss her once more, her mouth a succulent peach, sweet and juicy. “Do you want me, Mia?” He murmured the words against her lips, loath to leave them even for a moment. “Not as a Master, but as a man? Do you want this?”

  Her lips moved against his and uttered the only word he wanted to hear. “Yes.”

  Chess pulled back, his lungs burning, his eyes burning. He tore his shirt over his head, kicked off his shoes, couldn’t undress fast enough. Mia snatched off her own clothing just as speedily. There was no finesse, no soft seduction. They needed to get at each other.

  Naked, they grappled, kissing and nipping, the bedclothes tangling around them. Chess pulled open a bedside drawer to retrieve a condom, pulled away from Mia only long enough to rip open the packet and roll the sheath down his aching cock.

  Mia watched him, transfixed, gulping air. She widened her legs, tilted her pelvis in welcome, and gasped as he drove straight home.

  “Ahhh…God…” He groaned. She was tight, but her pussy was slick for him. He was so hard, he could hammer fucking nails. She felt so good, made him feel so good that he wanted to cry.

  She clung to him, hooking her legs around him, digging her heels into his back. They bucked against each other, and Chess knew he wouldn’t last long.

  He took her right hand, sucked the first two fingers into his mouth, brought it down between them, urging her to touch her clit. “I can’t hold out, honey. Touch yourself and come with me.”

  She hesitated but soon followed his directions—shyly at first and more confidently as he encouraged her. “That’s right, baby. You’re so hot, yeah. Just like that. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  One more thrust and he was gone. Mia’s thighs tensed and she followed, her pussy rippling around him as he came. Moments later, he collapsed at her side, still inside her. He rolled her toward him so they could stay joined as long as possible.

  A bit later, Chess got rid of the condom and slipped back into bed, so completely relaxed he could slide into sleep at any moment. Sighing softly, he toyed with Mia’s hair as his eyelids fell shut. “Sorry,” he murmured. “That wasn’t very impressive.”

  She cupped his cheek in her palm. “What do you mean?”

  “It was too quick. You hardly had a chance to get off.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  He grasped her hand and kissed it, moved it to his chest. No. She wouldn’t complain.

  He kept his eyes closed, knowing he was a coward. If he opened them and looked into her big brown eyes, he’d be lost. He’d never want to let her go.

  He shouldn’t feel so peaceful, so at ease. He’d messed up big-time. Now he understood why he didn’t put up an argument last weekend when Mia specified no intercourse. He’d known deep inside that once they’d crossed that threshold, everything would change. For him, at least.

  Who was he trying to kid? He was already lost.

  He must have fallen asleep for a bit. He woke slowly as pleasure swirled through him, concentrating in his groin. Chess looked down. Mia was laving his stiff cock with her tongue, twirling it around the head. She took it into her mouth and sucked gently, making him even harder.

  Meeting his gaze, she released him. Her lips were swollen and moist, her eyelids at half-mast. She already had the condom her hand. She rolled it down him slowly and moved on top of him.

  “That’s right, honey.” She tried easing down onto him but winced. Poor thing. There hadn’t been much tenderness in their earlier encounter. It had been quick and to the point. He remembered too that Mia hadn’t had a boyfriend in a while. She had to be sore.

  “It’s all right,” he murmured. “In the drawer.”

  She opened the bedside drawer and took out a bottle of lube.

  “Squeeze some on my fingers,” he said. “That’s good.” He rubbed the silky stuff on his fingertips. “Lift up.”

  When Mia obeyed, he smoothed some of the lubricant over the folds of her labia. “That better?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “A little more.” His fingers now held her musky scent as well as residue from the lube. She squeezed more from the bottle, and this time he twirled his slippery fingers around the mouth of her pussy.

  “Ah.” She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she undulated at his touch, urging his fingers deeper.

  He gave a low laugh from deep in his chest. He loved seeing her pleasure. “Feels good, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  He teased her a little more, then withdrew his hand, grinning at her small moan of disappointment. He patted his hip bone. “Come on. Try again.”

  This time it was much easier. He helped her ease down on his cock until he fit deep inside her. Chess wanted to do better this time, make it last longer. “Okay, ride ’em, cowgirl.”

  Mia moved experimentally but soon took charge, sliding up his length and grinding her clit against him on the downstroke. Chess watched in fascination as she sought her own enjoyment. A flush rose on her chest, moving up her neck to her face as her features plumped with arousal. Her rosy-brown nipples were swollen and hard, too tempting to ignore.

  “That’s right,” he said as he reached for her breasts. “Take your time. Make it good.”

  And it was good. Chess could tell from her little moans and sighs as he palmed her breasts and tweaked her nipples. He levered her closer to suck one of those pointy nipples into his mouth. She smelled of powder, and her skin tasted sweet. Sugar tit, he thought.

  Her face was rosy and misty with perspiration, her mouth twisted with the need to come. Chess released her nipple and ground his teeth, trying to hold back. His cock ached to explode, his climax so close his vision blurred, but he needed her to come first. He needed to give her this.

  “Yes. Come on, baby. Come for me, please.” It was a request, not a command. Mia’s gaze captured his as she bumped her pelvis against his one last time. She stiffened in his arms. Her mouth went slack while her pussy rippled around him and her fingers dug into his flesh. That was all he needed. A few more hard pumps and he was gone with her.

  Gone. Too far gone to ever get back.

  * * * *

  Mia lay in the dark, her eyes wide open. It was early morning—she’d slept all night. Chess lay beside her, the rhythm of his breathing telling her that he was sound asleep. But she couldn’t sleep. Thoughts were twirling like a tornado in her brain.

  She’d arrived the night before wanting to be punished, to be mastered by him. And she had been mastered, in a way she never expecte
d. She’d been overpowered not by Chess’s dominance, but by his passion. Last night the two of them had not “played.” They had made love. They were not Top and bottom, or Dom and sub, or Master and slave. They were lovers.

  Lovers was serious. Mia never meant for things get to this point. Yet when she needed someone, she’d called Chess. And he’d been there for her.

  But what was she to Chess? Just another play partner? Or a challenge, perhaps, a chance to wipe the stars from the eyes of a BDSM newbie.

  She was in trouble. After last night, her feelings for Chess were far more complicated than they should be. She liked him. She cared about him. She cared for him.

  And she’d called him Master.

  She edged out of bed and found her shirt draped over the seat of a chair. As she picked it up and fumbled for the rest of her clothing, Chess spoke. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to go home. I’ve got work in a few hours.”

  “Take the day off. You’ve been through too much.”

  She’d been through too much? It was Serina who’d been through too much, Serina and her little boy. “I can’t.” The office would be in mourning, overwhelmed with sorrow and disbelief. They’d all need one another’s support. “I should be there.”

  He turned on the bedside lamp, and Mia squinched her eyelids in the brightness. Chess sat up in bed, the comforter bunched around his waist. Mia couldn’t look at his naked chest, his broad shoulders, without wanting to climb back into his bed and burrow against his warmth to feel safe.

  Now that the room was lit, she spotted her bra and panties and scooped them up. Plain old cotton—she hadn’t dressed to impress last night, hadn’t even thought of it. She’d come to him because she needed his help.

  And he had helped her.

  “Mia.” His voice stopped her in the midst of scrambling haphazardly into her clothes. “Come here.”

  Damn. The authoritative timbre of his voice made her want to melt. She was on the verge of making a complete fool of herself because all she wanted to do was fling herself at him and beg him to never let go.

  Didn’t you learn anything from the fiasco with Philip? You were too needy, Mia, too clingy. A pesky burr he only wanted to shake off.