Chapter One

A new idea

A widow by the age of 30, Sarah Simpson-Parker spent the obligatory one year in mourning and then moved on with her life. Her husband, a soldier for his country and a munitions expert to boot, had died two years ago in an ironic off-base traffic accident. It had taken her a year to start thinking again; in her opinion, the Victorians probably had it right when their social customs dictated a year-long mourning period.

She felt much freer this time around on the dating circuit. Both she and her husband had been throwbacks to an earlier time, adhering to an increasingly outdated morality; when they’d married, they both were virgins. After five years together, they realized a little more experience would have gone a long way towards making sex satisfying. As it was, their sex life was adequate, but nothing more.

At least then she’d had a sex life. In the two years since her husband’s death, Sarah had remained chaste, and she was getting darn tired of it. Age was beginning its slow slink into her limbs; recently she’d found a white hair mixed in with her long, shoulder-length brown waves. A critical look into the mirror showed her a reality she had to face: her still-fit body and long, carefully brushed hair were ever-so-surely creeping into middle age. She wasn’t even sure why she was still on the pill anymore, it had been so long since sex had been a part of her life.

She’d had a few kisses from the men she’d dated, but most of the men she’d gone out with just didn’t do anything for her—until she met Phillip.

The first few dates with Phillip Townsend had gone so well, Sarah had agreed to more. Tall, dark, handsome, rugged; she almost had said “no” the first time he’d asked her out. She guessed he was slightly older than she—at least he’d looked it in the grocery store where they’d met when each of them chose the same orange at the exact same moment. Older, perhaps, and a bit rugged; clean shaven, but no gray yet in his hair. She liked the way his dark hair curled and was glad he’d left it just a little on the long side. In fact, had his hair been buzz-cut short, she probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance—she liked to run her fingers through a man’s hair, and Phillip had just enough to play with. On their dates, she’d noticed women notice him—and throw glances full of venom in her direction. He was Hollywood handsome and she’d been worried the beauty had only gone skin deep. But it hadn’t and he’d caught her interest. Tonight they’d done the dinner and a movie thing and then gone for ice cream and a walk along the beach. It was late, or rather early now—and Sarah was glad tomorrow was Saturday and she didn’t have to work. No cares, no commitments, just a day to relax.

The moon was full and the soft white light bathed the empty beach. Phillip pulled her close and kissed her once, twice. Sarah returned his kiss, liking his smell, his touch. His hands began to wander and she let them, liking how they made her feel.

“I like my women compliant,” he whispered in her ear.

And compliant she was feeling. The moonlight, the anticipated day off, his touch; they all combined to put her in a tremendously relaxed mood.

“Would you do what I asked you to?” he asked her, nuzzling her ear. Phillip Townsend knew what he liked in women. Never married, he had been through several long-term relationships; each one had run its course and the break-ups had been mutual. He dated more selectively now that he had grown older, and theoretically wiser. Sarah’s blush when their fingers met on the orange had prompted the first date—her intelligence had dictated several more since then. Tonight he would find out if she was worth any more of his time. He sincerely hoped she was.

Of course, it wasn’t only her brain that intrigued him. While not drop-dead gorgeous, she was still a beautiful woman. That set of freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose gave her a pixie-like quality that belied the severe cut of her shoulders. Obviously that was where she carried all her tension. He saw those shoulders as a bit of a challenge—would she be compliant enough to relax with him?

“Yes,” she murmured her answer, his touch arousing her.

“Would you come back to my place and do what I asked you to?”

This was exactly what she’d hoped for. She’d been a virgin until marriage, then monogamous throughout it and chaste afterward. It was high time she was naughty. “Yes,” she murmured again, an impish smile dancing in her eyes.

He took her hand and they worked their way back to his black Corvette, the sand of the beach squishing through their toes. He did not kiss her again, nor touch her except for holding her hand. Pausing at the car only long enough to brush the sand off their feet, Phillip held the door for her as she sat and refastened her sandals while he slid on his docksiders. A moment more and they were on the road.

* * * * *

The ride to Phillip’s cottage wasn’t long—he lived out of town in a cottage separated from his neighbors by several acres of woods. They talked of small things along the way, getting to know more of each other’s opinions; he liked brussel sprouts and she didn’t; he hated washing dishes and she found it relaxing. As he pulled into the long drive and parked the car up near the house, the two of them fell silent. The Corvette was his one extravagance; certainly it seemed out of place beside the simple cottage. Putting the stick in neutral, he let the engine idle for a moment as he turned to the beautiful woman beside him.

“Now, Sarah, I need to ask you again. Once you step out of this car, I want total control over you. Are you willing to give that to me? I promise, I will not hurt you.”

She hesitated, suddenly realizing the position she was in and what she’d agreed to. Her physical desires warred with her practical nature; did she really want to give this guy total control?

Seeing her hesitate, he leaned over and kissed her gently. From the few statements she’d made about her dead husband, he knew she was really not prepared for what he was asking. “I will give you a word—a safe-word—and if you say that word at any time, I will stop what we are doing and we will talk. Will that make you feel better?”

Swallowing hard, Sarah nodded.

“Then the word I will give you will be ‘orange’. How’s that? Just think of the day we met and you’ll remember it.”

She nodded again in response. Part of her couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, the other part of her was so excited, she didn’t trust her voice.

“Remember, once you leave the car, you will do as I say.”

The warning tone was implicit, yet Sarah knew he meant it. She nodded again and took a deep breath at the sudden arousal his words caused inside her. She was voluntarily giving up all control—letting someone else take the lead. She, who prided herself on her ability to think through every problem she’d been given; she who led an entire set of teams at work. What would her friends and co-workers say of her now, agreeing to give up control to a man she’d met only a few times? She didn’t care. It had been far too long since she’d had sexual relations of any sort. Putting thoughts of everyone and everything else aside, she opened the door and stepped out.

Shutting the door, she stood next to the car, suddenly uncertain as to what to do now. Just how far did this control thing go? Could she walk to the door without being told to do so? On unfamiliar territory, she felt the world wrench sideways a bit.

He smiled at her nervousness and came around the car, taking her hand. “Come with me, for you are now mine.”

Frowning, she searched his face for signs of a power hungry fanatic and found none. He was still the same; smiling the way she’d enjoyed earlier. Stepping carefully in the dark, she followed him to the door of the cottage.

“Stay here and let me get the light.” He unlocked the door and went in, closing the door behind him. Inside she saw a light come on as she waited. An owl hooted somewhere and she jumped. But then he was back, opening the door for her to enter. She sensed she still had the right to back out; but once over the door, she was committed.

She stepped over the threshold.

Only one small lamp was lit near the door; the rest of the place was in shadow. Phillip stepped behind her and kissed her neck. Her eyes closed as his hands moved down her body, exploring her. She swayed as he moved his kisses along her neck to her cheek, her ear. He pulled her hands behind her and she did not resist. There was a coldness around her wrist, a small click, and she was caught.

“You are mine,” he whispered in her ear. The thought caused her knees to go weak, although she remained standing. She hadn’t expected bondage to be part of the evening, but the thought of it gave her a small thrill. His voice was quiet in her ear: “You cannot prevent me from doing to you all that I want to do.”

His hands now slid to her breasts, still covered by her blouse, still confined in her bra. So far, so good. She wasn’t yelling or screaming at him to let her go. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. How far could he push her tonight? What would her limit be? Was she the one he’d been looking for? Phillip pushed the last thought down. Too many times in the past he’d gotten his hopes up only to find his partner throwing walls up when he least expected it. Better to just enjoy the evening and leave the future where it was. He rubbed her breasts with his open palm, and her nipples stood up under all their layers. “Yes, you do find this exciting, don’t you?”

For answer Sarah moaned and sagged against him, her mind reeling with pleasure. She hadn’t known how wonderful the lack of movement could be. His words echoed in her mind and she whispered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what, my dear? Do you have something more to say to me?” His fingers pinched her nipples gently through the layers of clothing and she moaned again, wanting him to undress her, wanting him to take her.

“Yes, Sir.” The word came easily and a corner of her mind wondered just what had prompted her to give him that title. Was it because her need was growing and if he wanted the words, she would give them to him? Did he want that designation? It didn’t really matter. If it would lead to a real orgasm, she’d call him anything he asked her to.

Phillip steadied her, then stepped around to read her face. “Look at me,” he commanded and she couldn’t resist. Her eyes met his and she saw now the latent power in his being. Not power-hungry, but raw power, natural. She gasped as she saw him unveiled and her arousal grew.

“Follow me.” He turned and did not look back to see if she obeyed him or not. He knew she would—and she did. The darkness gave way to a short corridor; she followed and turned when she saw him disappear into the blackness to her left. There she hesitated. It was too dark to see and she couldn’t tell where he’d gone.

A match flared as he lit a candle. In the small light, she could discern little, but it was enough to give her guidance. She stepped into the room and faced him.

“Good.” That one word, spoken fairly flatly, gave her a bit of satisfaction. She didn’t entirely understand this game, but she was apparently learning quickly. And there was no denying how aroused this game made her.

Phillip knew the candle didn’t light much of the room—that was his intention. No use scaring her away. Better to ease her into the ideas he intended to introduce her to. He was glad she’d followed him without question, but it was obvious she was nervous. Stepping toward her, he slowly unbuttoned her blouse.

Sarah’s body ached for his touch, but he was too careful: his fingers touched only the buttons, nothing else. She squirmed a bit and pushed out her breasts, hoping he might touch them again, but he seemed not to notice.

Deliberately, slowly, he pulled her blouse out of the confines of her pants, letting it fall to her sides, opening her bosom to his inspection. Then, using the front closure on her bra, he opened it, letting her breasts hang down. She blushed, knowing she was being examined. No man other than her husband and her doctor had ever seen her breasts.

Stepping forward, he cupped a breast in one of his hands, sliding the other around her waist. She leaned toward him, giving him better access to her body. It had been too long—and her husband had never excited her like this. “Anxious, are we?” he laughed.

For answer, she grinned at him.

He turned her and led her to the wall. In the dim light, she couldn’t make anything out, but there did seem to be something glimmering above her head in the candlelight.

Phillip turned her to face into the room again and stepped behind her. Now came the first real test. He had told her he liked his women compliant. The truth was far more complicated. What he liked were women that would willingly hand over their bodies for him to play with. Not only did he enjoy the exchange of power, but he liked to think he made the time worthwhile for the woman as well.

Sarah felt the handcuffs release. Quickly now, he pushed the blouse and the bra off her and let them drop to the floor. Then, raising first one of her hands and then the other, he fastened them above her head, elbows bent. She felt the leather cuffs wrapped neatly around her wrists and tried to pull her hands through, but she was most definitely caught. The thought caused a whole new set of feelings to flood her—arousal, panic, arousal. She groaned a little and stretched, experimenting with her restrictions.

For his part, he simply stood and watched as she tested her bonds and discovered her vulnerability. He didn’t want her to get frustrated, however, not yet. He wanted her aroused. Picking up something from a table nearby, he stepped forward again, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “You cannot escape. You are mine. And you like feeling helpless, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Yes…what?”

“Yes, Sir,” she amended, the title still sounding odd to her. But she liked this new experience too much to let a little word stand in her way.

With his foot, Phillip pushed against her feet and Sarah backed up against the wall. But doing so put her a bit off-balance and she leaned forward ever so slightly.

“Just right.” Sarah hadn’t minded the cuffs, could she take a more personal binding? With a quick movement, Phillip lassoed one of her breasts in a loop of soft clothesline, pulling it tight before she realized it was there. She gasped, feeling the pain, the sudden influx of pleasure.

“You have never had your breasts bound before, have you?” he asked. She shook her head no in response. “Would you like me to stop?” Again she shook her head no. “Remember, you have a word you can use if you want me to stop at any point.”

Only briefly did she consider using the safe word. But the pain in her breast was swelling to full arousal and she had only one thought on her mind now: reaching a climax. She shook her head again. She would not use the safe word.

Smiling at her willingness, Phillip wrapped the cord around her breast several times, giving it a collar of rope. Then he turned to its mate, giving it similar treatment. Finished, he stepped back to survey his handiwork.

Now she blushed in earnest. There was no way she could or would stop him. His fingers brushed her swollen nipples and she gasped in shock. A thrill ran through her, right to her toes. With her breasts bound as they were and her hands hung high, her sex was awakening. Oh, she definitely liked this game.

He stepped forward again, circling her with his arms, his hands on her back pulling her into his embrace. Her tied breasts crushed against his shirt as he kissed her, his tongue probing, forcing her mouth open as he took possession of it. She yielded gladly, feeling her stomach give a small, pleasant flip as she did so.

Releasing her, Phillip bent down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, kissing it, licking it. He enjoyed her taste. Sweet and yet slightly musky. She moaned in response, feeling her knees go weak and he smiled—she made wonderful noises. Yes, he could have quite a bit of fun with this woman, if she let him. For a few seconds, she hung by her wrists as he gave his full attention to her sensitive nipple. She got her feet under her again just as he took the other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging on it with his lips making it warm and firm; her knees threatened to buckle again. The first nipple he’d kissed, still wet from his tongue, stood straight in the air, cold and hard.

His hands moved to her waist, touching the zipper of her twill pants. She flinched so Phillip possessed her mouth again, and as their tongues entwined, he unzipped her pants, sliding his hands in and around her hips, squeezing her rear. “No panties?” he whispered into her mouth.

“No,” she whispered back, suddenly realizing what that made her look like.

Without another word, he stepped away from her and pulled down her slacks. He put aside her clothes, then, again without speaking, he reached over and took an ankle in his hand. Pulling her leg to the side, he fastened a cuff around it. What was it his grandfather used to say? ‘In for a penny, in for a pound.’ Well, she hadn’t stopped him yet and he definitely enjoyed pushing her limits.

Sarah watched him. The cuff Phillip now locked around her ankle was attached to a bar about two feet in length. He did the same with the other ankle. Acutely aware that she stood before him wearing nothing but ankle and wrist cuffs, her breasts bound by his hand, her own hands secured to the wall above her head and her legs spread wide, for the briefest of moments, she quailed. What was she doing? Letting a man chain her to a wall to ravish her? What was she thinking? Her breasts bound and her legs spread like…like…like a woman who needed sex—who wanted it so desperately she would play such games to get it. Feelings of desire coursed through her.

Quietly he lit two more candles in the room, but her eyes did not stray from him. For now he stripped off his shirt and she saw the tremendous muscles in his chest. He moved with the grace of a cat, no, a lion, as he picked something up from a table in the dark. Coming to her, he brushed his hand again over her nipples, causing her breasts to ache for more of his touch. Another possessive kiss, and he stepped back. So intent was she on his eyes, that she saw only a flick of his wrist and a quick blur before she felt the soft flogger between her legs.

She cried out before she could stop herself.

“Would you like me to stop?” he asked, standing casually in front of her, running the soft leather of the flogger through his hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…it didn’t hurt. You took me by surprise, that’s all.”

He still stood, not making any move other than to watch her, still running the flogger through his hand. She wondered if she’d said something wrong, then realized what it was. “Sir. You simply took me by surprise, Sir.”

He nodded his approval and a small thrill of satisfaction ran through her. She was learning how to play this game. The thought of being whipped into submission brought images to her head from the occasional romance novel she read. Those images never failed to excite her. The reality of actually being flogged, however, was much more arousing than she ever expected.

He swatted her gently several times; sometimes on the stomach, sometimes on the arms, sometimes the legs. But then one landed on her bound breasts and she gasped. “Do you like that?” He let it land there again and the urge to come was strong.

“Oh, yes, I like that very much, Sir.” The title came easily in her need and surprise. She did like this. Why? What was this saying about herself?

He flicked it over her pussy and her moan was vocal. “Like that?”

“Oh, yes, Sir!” The psychology of why she was responding to this faded into the background of her mind, replaced by desire and need. She writhed in her bonds, wanting desperately to come now.

He flicked it again. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“I want to come…oh, let me come!” She felt like such a slut asking a man if she could come; in the past, she controlled her own orgasms. But the bondage and her lack of power and the flogger had done their work. She wanted to come and was willing to beg for it.

“No.”

The word was flat, final. He turned, putting the flogger on the table behind him.

She cried out in frustration. This wasn’t fair! She wanted to come, but because of her bonds, could not. How dare he get her all worked up and then leave her? Before she got enough breath to speak her mind, however, he was back, facing her.

“You are mine, tonight. I command you. You may only do what I say.” He brushed a hair out of her face. “Do you accept this?”

She just stared at him. Then, slowly, she repeated, “I am yours, you command me, I may only do what you say.” Fine. She’d play his game, come, and go home.

“What?” His voice was soft, his lips so near her ear she could feel his breath. She squirmed in her bonds. “You need to learn to say it. To accept it.”

Her breath was ragged, her need intense. “I am yours, Sir. You command me, Sir and I may do only what you say.” She paused before adding, pleading, “Sir.”

For answer, his lips pulled on her earlobe, one hand playing with her nipple, the other reaching down and brushing the hair on her mound. She moaned and pushed against his hand as he held her, slipping one finger down to touch her clit. Her body moved towards a climax and she pushed against him, once, twice, three times.

And he stepped back. The sudden removal of his hand left her unable to come—again—and she whimpered in frustration. He took her chin in his hand and turned her face up toward his. “Open your eyes,” he commanded. She did so, unable to refuse. “You will come when I tell you to. You will come when I want you to. And you will keep coming until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?”

She had no words. The constant arousal and the bondage were beginning to tire her. She hung from her wrists and nodded her consent.

He could see she was almost ready. But it was time to give her a rest before continuing his training. For training her he was. Breaking her, slowly, without her knowledge. Each time he pushed her a little further and she did not resist, his hopes went a little higher. Sarah just might be the submissive he hoped she was. Gently, he removed the ropes from her breasts, letting the blood flow to them once again. As it did so, she breathed deeply, her breasts rising and falling, tingling.

He caressed each one, softly planting kisses on the base of her breast where the ropes had left their marks. Massaging them, he waited until he heard her whimper again, knowing her desire was still strong. Leaving the cuffs on her wrists, he detached them from the wall, letting her hands fall to her sides.

She sagged against him as blood flowed to her arms. Her legs, still spread about two feet apart, kept her off balance. He held her, then scooped her up, spreader bar and all, and carried her over to a still-dark corner of the room.

She was aware that the surface under her was soft and warm as he laid her face up. Once again he took her wrists and raised them over her head, stretching her arms to fasten them; this time she could not bend them at all. Nor did she have the strength to.

He lit a few more candles now and in the increased light, she realized she was not on a bed, as she had surmised, but on a high table covered with a thin mattress. He secured the spreader bar to the table, then moved out of her sight for a moment. When he returned, he again carried something in his hand.

“You need to learn obedience to my commands. You need to learn who is in control tonight.” He held up a small, butterfly-shaped object. “Do you know what this is?”

She shook her head no, and he bent down closer. “What was that?”

“No, Sir, I do not know what that is,” she murmured, nervousness making her voice tight.

“It is a clitoral stimulator. Let me show you.” He reached between her legs and her back arched in response. “Yes, I know you are eager. But not yet.” He placed the butterfly in its position against her sex then turned it on to its lowest setting.

She gasped as the vibration sent its waves through her entire being. Her arousal began to grow again. She writhed on the table, trying to get the pressure she needed in order to come.

“Do you wish to use your safeword? Know that if you do, I will let you come now. Say the word and you can come and then I will take you home.”

She looked at him, long and hard. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted earlier? He stood there, not gloating over her, but genuinely concerned for her. He brushed a hair from her face and the tenderness in his touch moved her. “I don’t want to say my safeword, Sir.” She was surprised at how easily the title came.

“Do you like being in my control?” He smiled kindly at her and she smiled back, surprised at her own answer. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very good. But I am afraid you still will not come. Not until I say so.” Using the straps attached to the small machine, Phillip fastened the stimulator against her body. He turned a knob and the vibrations grew slightly more intense. Sarah had not only withstood, but seemed to enjoy the light breast bondage and the light flogging—but could she handle his demand for total control of her body as to command her orgasm? Deciding to push this limit as far as he could, he turned and blew out all but one candle. “And now I must leave you for a bit, my dear. Enjoy.”

What? He was leaving her like this? Her body stretched on a table and unable to come? She had played his game, where was he going? The vibrations coming from her clit made her breathless and her cry was strangled with despair and arousal. Sarah watched as Phillip sauntered to the door with the one remaining candle, blowing it out as he reached it. In the sudden darkness, she heard the door shut.

It is said that the mind is the body’s most sexual organ and Sarah’s was working overtime. What if he never came back? What if something happened to him out there and he needed help? Each fear only added to her feeling of helplessness, which fueled her need, which heightened her desire. She lost track of time—alone in the dark, she squirmed on the table, trying to find relief. Her breath came in short gasps and tears fell from the sides of her eyes. The moans of before were now whimpers.

Listening to her in the darkness of the room quickened the blood in his veins. His stomach tightened as he realized how much she was enjoying this. Never before had he had a partner who so quickly gave her trust the way Sarah had tonight. Granted, it had been a while since she’d been with her husband—and Phillip knew she’d been with no man since. But still, she responded to his commands as if being dominated was a deeply-held secret she now let her body reveal.

Beside her ear he whispered in the dark, “You will only come on my command. I control your body, I control your mind.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered, not even realizing she’d changed his title.

Inside his heart, he smiled. “You may come now.” With his hand, he pressed the butterfly up against her body. Her reaction was immediate and violent. Wave after wave crashed over her, through her. Conscious thought fled and she knew only the pleasure of the waves that carried her as her body convulsed time and time again.

How long her climax lasted, she had no way of knowing. Exhausted at last, she lay limp on the table, unable to move. Dimly she realized he had brought her hands to her sides, and taken away the bar between her ankles.

“Here, my slave, drink this.” She felt his arm under her head and shoulders, lifting her. A cup was in his hand but she could not take it from him; she had no strength left at all. He held it to her lips so she could drink. “Water. Just clear, cool water.”

Phillip laid her back on the table so he could remove the butterfly. Once done, he scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her out of the room; he would not be taking her home just yet. The poor woman was exhausted. Instead, he carried her to his bedroom, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. Crawling into bed beside her and pulling the covers over them, he felt protective of her as her body folded itself against his own, snuggling her body to his warmth.

She lay contented. Never before had she had such an intense orgasm. Still basking in the wonder of it, she drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

The sound of a bird’s call outside the window woke Sarah in the morning. Sunlight streamed through the window and she stretched, forgetting for a moment where she was. But the feel of cuffs around her wrists made her stiffen as she remembered. The entire night came back to her in a flash: the bondage, his dominance and control over her; her begging for release, the incredible climax. All Sarah had wanted was a romp in the bedroom; she certainly had not intended to stay the night. However, after last night’s activities, it was probably best that Phillip had not taken her directly home.

Throwing the covers back, she checked her ankles. Same as her wrists; cuffed, but not fettered.

“How are you this morning?”

Sarah looked up to see him leaning against the doorway, already showered and fully dressed. She had been too far into her own need to come last night to fully appreciate the physique of the man who controlled her. His frame filled the doorway with his wide shoulders and imposing height. A shirt now covered his strong chest muscles, the sight of which had actually registered in one part of her brain while the rest of her was busy. She appreciated anew the straight line of his clean-shaven jaw and the aquiline profile of his nose. Was it possible such a handsome man was really interested in her? Or was he only after one thing? Naked before him, she resisted the urge to pull the covers over her again. Smiling to cover her sudden nervousness, she answered his question, “I’m fine. Thank you.” Was she still supposed to say ‘Sir?’

“Not sore?” Phillip came in to sit beside her on the bed.

Surprisingly, she wasn’t. She shook her head and made room for him to sit. His nearness caused her breath to quicken; to her knowledge, he had not come the night before. Well, she was ready to do her part. He’d been incredible and had showed her parts of herself she’d never even known existed. How she felt about that, she would think about later.

He reached out and caressed her breast with the back of his finger. The nipples already stood out straight from the sudden chill when she had thrown off the covers, but now they hardened at his touch. Sarah remembered the game they’d been playing the night before; the cuffs were testament to that. Time to find out how far this game went. Putting on a demure demeanor, she knelt on the bed and affected a meek tone. “What would Master like this morning?”

He laughed at her playacting. “You would make a fine slave, my dear.” He leaned in to pull her earlobe with his lips and whispered, “You do know that, don’t you?”

She bent her head towards him, feeling the desire brewing inside her. His touch turned her to jelly all over.

But then he pulled back, and she realized he held a key in his other hand. Deliberately, he took first one wrist and then the other, unlocking the cuffs, removing them and Sarah looked at him in confusion. When all four cuffs lay beside them on the bed, he took her hands in his and addressed her directly. It was time to lay it on the line to her.

“I would like very much for you to be my slave. But you need to realize I am not asking you to play a game, and there would be no playacting. If you agree, I will be your Master—in every sense of the word.”

Sarah looked deeply into his eyes for signs that this was a joke. But all she saw was an open honesty, and that raw power she had glimpsed the night before. Her brow furrowed with yet-unasked questions. He held a finger to her lips, silencing her.

“If you accept, it will not affect your outward life. Your co-workers need never know. In fact, you do not even need to give up your apartment; you’ll continue to live there during the week. But on Friday nights, you would come here, and leave from here on Monday mornings. During that time, you would be mine and would follow my commands.”

Phillip understood the risk he was taking. It was quite possible the woman would bolt at his proposal. But after her responses last night, he was in danger of becoming emotionally involved, and his heart was too much to risk in another fruitless relationship.

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Take your shower now, and think about it. The offer will be open for a while.” He walked to the door, then turned and smiled, his manner not betraying his inner turmoil. “I release you from your promise of last night. I will not command you in this. It is a decision you must weigh carefully. But know that I will take care of you—my slave.”

His words rang in her ears. “My slave.” She considered his proposal as she readied for her shower. The bathroom was just off the bedroom and she ran the water hot as she thought. “My slave.”

Stepping into the shower, she threw her head back, letting the water cascade over her body. Now she examined her breasts for marks made by the ropes last night. There were none. Her ankles had a thin, red line where the cuff had pressed her during the night. The same on her wrists. And she could not deny the fact that she had enjoyed herself.

But what did that say about her? She, who had so prided herself on her independence, on her ability to lead, was actually considering being a slave? Voluntarily? She must be nuts!

Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and toweled dry. She wrapped her hair in one towel, and took another one to wrap around her. No, she could not agree to this. The only reason she’d even come home with him last night was because she’d been feeling so naughty. And surprisingly, she had no regrets. It had been a wonderful night and she had to admit, she loved the bondage. But to actually be a slave? No. She finished her toilette and walked back into the bedroom.

The bed had been made while she was showering. Neatly placed on the coverlet were the cuffs she’d worn before, their open locks dangling from the closure. Sitting on the bed, she picked one up, turning it over in her hands. There was no denying the desire they provoked. To be cuffed, to be owned by one man—a Master. She sighed. There was something wonderful in that thought. No worries, no decisions. Only pleasing him.

She saw her clothes neatly folded on a chair in the corner. She ignored them for the moment and firmly tucked the bath towel around her. Picking up the two wrist cuffs, locks and all, she went to find him.

Finding the kitchen was easy enough. She walked over to where he sat at the small table. “I can’t believe it, but I am actually considering your proposal.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking her over. She was chewing her bottom lip, holding the two cuffs as if she were weighing them against her own independence. He would not rush her. After the very first date, he had known this woman had possibilities, and after last night, he was sure. Yes, he wanted her. He wanted her to be completely his to subjugate and control. But he only wanted her if she were willing.

“Give me the cuffs.” He was pleased when she handed them to him without hesitation. Now he weighed them before her as she stood. “Give me today. Be my slave without question for the next twenty-four hours. Audition me, if you like. If tomorrow morning you wish to leave, then we will part as friends.” He looked deeply into her eyes.

“I will even ask you to keep your safe word for this time. But know, if you agree to be my slave after tomorrow morning, you must trust me completely.”

It was a fair offer. She had no plans for the day—and no date for the night. Instead of a quiet, relaxing weekend, she was getting something far more intriguing. Could she do it? Could she be a slave for a whole day? This arrangement would give her a better glimpse into what she might expect from him. She smiled, “I accept.” She held out her wrists to him. “For the next twenty-four hours.”