I Married a Master(56)
Author: Melanie Marchande

I considered for a moment.

"What do they call you?" I cleared my throat. "I mean, you know, your uh…your submissives? Do they have a special name for you?"

"I wouldn’t call it special." He grinned. "I ask them to call me Mr. Chase, or Sir. They can make other suggestions if they want, but it has to be respectful."

A few less-than-respectful ideas popped into my head, and I giggled slightly. "What about them? Do you call them something?"

He nodded, looking thoughtful. "Each one gets their own name," he said. "It has to fit the situation. It has to fit them. I’m pretty good at coming up with something – it’s one of my less marketable talents."

"Oh, boy." I laughed, leaning against the counter. The lighthearted tone of the conversation was putting me more at ease, but it didn’t do much to relieve the tension winding up in my body. I wanted…I didn’t know what. I just wanted.

"You think I’m kidding?" He shifted his weight a little, using the opportunity to close some of the small gap between us. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t notice, but I most certainly did. "I’ve got a list of references you can call."

"I guess I don’t know what constitutes a good nickname," I said. "Of course they’re going to say they like it. That’s part of the game, isn’t it?"

"Trust me." He winked. "I can tell if they like it."

"What does that mean?" I was pretty sure the temperature in the room just went up by about ten degrees, and there was suddenly a lot less oxygen to be had.

"You know what I mean." His voice was a little softer, a little lower. We were getting into a dangerous territory now. "I know you wanted details, but I don’t know if you want that many details."

I swallowed hard. "You’re telling me you’re so good at coming up with pet names, that it’s actually a turn-on?" I was trying very hard to keep my voice light. "I mean…okay, sure. I guess."

"You’re so skeptical." He eyed me. "Don’t make me prove it."

My pulse was racing. I wanted him to.

God damn, did I want him to.

"A businessman like you should know," I said, arching my eyebrow, while the sensible part of my brain raced to catch up with whatever the hell I was doing. "You gotta put your money where your mouth is."

"Oh, well then." His mouth twitched. "If that’s how we’re playing it. But I’m not giving you a pet name for free. You have to earn it."

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. The fingers of his left hand, his dominant hand, were slowly moving, the thumb rubbing against the tips of the other fingers absentmindedly. Like he was getting ready for something.

"How?" I whispered.

"You know how." His voice was low and husky.

I swallowed hard. "A spanking?"

He nodded. "Just a spanking. No funny business." He rested his hand on the center of his chest. "Cross my heart, Jenna."

For a moment, I just stared at him. Was I ready to accept what he was offering?

"What do you say?" He looked me up and down, one more time, the heat of his gaze almost palpable on my skin. "Are you ready to accept your punishment?"

I wavered, literally and figuratively, a deep blush spreading across my cheeks, and down further. My chest flushed hot as I watched him and tried to imagine his hand connecting with my backside.

"Hmm," he said, a soft noise that went straight to the heat between my legs. "Are you sure?"

I nodded.

He took a step closer, smiling at me. Our eyes were locked, and I couldn’t tear myself away if I tried. "There’s no going back. Once I tell you, that seals the agreement. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Out loud," he said. "I need to hear you say it."

"Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Mr. Chase."

Abruptly, he closed the gap between us, standing so close that our clothing brushed together. But not quite pressing against me, just close enough to hear my breathing, to inhale my scent. His fingers ghosted along my jaw, my neck, like there was something about me that he needed to absorb before he could decide.

"You’re so damn beautiful," he whispered. "You smell good. I bet you taste good, too." I could hear his smile.

"Thought you said no funny business," I managed, breathlessly.

"Fuck. So I did." His fingers paused by my throat. "Sorry about that, sunshine."

It wasn’t so much the name itself, but the way he said it – my lips parted and I actually had to stop myself from making an embarrassing sound. Really?

Really. He really was that good.

"It’s okay," I whispered.

"It’s not okay," he murmured. "I’m a man of my word. I promise I won’t break it again." He exhaled. "Go over to the island, there. Up against the countertop, with your back to me."

It seemed to take ages to get there, my heels clacking on the polished floor.

"Bend over, and close your eyes."

His voice was like honey, luring me into a sense of calm, in spite of what was happening.

"Put your palms flat on the table," he murmured.

"What should I do with my head?"

"Whatever’s comfortable," he said. "You may keep it up, or you may rest one cheek on the wood."

He spoke with a real authority, not the false bravado I’d seen him display in public. Every cell in my body wanted to obey him, before my brain had a chance to intervene and question what the hell I was doing.

Before I knew it, he was very close. I felt the warmth radiating from his body, the gentle weight of his hand resting on my bottom.

"Ready?"

All I could do was nod.

At the first hit, I cried out.

It was more from surprise than from pain. And though there was a sharp unpleasant sensation, the thud of his hand vibrated through my body in a remarkably pleasant way.

Instantly, I came alive. My nerves were singing, a soft buzz of arousal growing between my legs. I could feel myself pulsing all over, from my toes to my fingertips, wanting him to hit me again.

"Okay?" he asked me, softly.

I nodded, still unable to speak.

Smack.

This time, I wasn’t startled, but I couldn’t muffle the little groan of pleasure that came from the back of my throat. Shit, was this what I’d been missing my whole life? I would’ve gladly crawled around the house naked for a month, in exchange for just a few minutes of feeling like this.

My head was swimming. Were there really people out there who got to feel like this every day? Any time they wanted? Could Ben tell how aroused I was? That wasn’t part of the plan. This was supposed to be no funny business.