Page 97 of Broken Brothers

To have me naked between the sheets, to have me controlling her, and to have me pleasuring her every inch of her body.

Well, I decided, she would get that.

But she would get so much more than that. She would get much, much more than she ever bargained for.

“You want to get out of here?” I said.

Claire tried to laugh and make it a game, but I was having none of this. Her wink, her look, it had not just turned me on—it had put me at the highest setting of sexual arousal, and there was no turning back now.

I grabbed her by the wrist, led her outside, and began the walk to her place as I whispered her all of the filthy things I was about to do to her.

41

The funny thing was, for as much as I spoke to Claire about how she had no idea what would soon hit her, as much as I warned her that things were about to get filthy hot in her place, I actually didn’t give her many details of what I had in mind.

See, I enjoyed normal sex as much as anyone. I could make a woman feel good, get enough to get me off, and have the energy for multiple rounds through the night. The idea that I had kinks was… true, but they weren’t necessary for me to have good sex.

But Claire had awakened a side of me that needed to not just control, but dominate. I was not just the lion in the jungle looking for my lionness. I was the head lion of the pack, and I was determined to make my statement.

I whispered into Claire’s ears about how she would have no control over anything that happened, daring to let my voice rise just above a whisper. I enjoyed seeing her squirm at the prospect that other people might hear us. There was just something so cute and so delightful about torturing her in this way, making her think I was going to expose her but actually carrying no risk.

Claire was, above all, safe with me.

But close behind that was a line of danger that I enjoyed pressing up against oh so much. I enjoyed carrying her to that spot even more.

By the time I got to the steps of her apartment, Claire could barely contain herself. I had slid my hand by her crotch a couple of times—always taking care to not make it publicly obvious—and she was so wet, I was sure she was soaking through her panties. Her hands were shaking as she reached for her keys, and I could practically hear her heart beating through her chest by her side.

When the door opened, it practically swung into the wall. She stepped inside, turned, and tried to kiss me.

But I pushed her away.

“Chance?”

I wore a devilish grin on my face. It wasn’t that I wanted to kiss her. It’s that I wanted to kiss her on my terms.

“That is not my name,” I said. “From now until I come, you will call me Master. Do you understand?”

The nervousness on Claire’s face got me so hard I could have plowed through a wall. I knew she trusted me, but she was definitely venturing into unchartered territory. Poor Claire was about to pop more than a few different kinds of cherries.

“Yes,” she said, her voice shaky and rising.

“Yes, what?” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

I chuckled shortly.

“Good,” she said.

Now I leaned in to kiss her. I started gently at first, as if I had just returned from a long hunt and needed my woman to show me some gentle, coming-down affection. She tried to reach for my crotch, but I slapped her hand away.

“On my terms, dear,” I said.

Oh, how this was getting her riled up. I could see how frustrating it was to feel out of control. I could see how she was so not used to this, and I could see how much self-control it took for her not to make a move.

Very good.

“Take your shirt and bra off,” I commanded.