Page 7 of Her Royal Master (Master Me #1)

D ay Two

Chelsea

“D arius… Your grace? Is that how you’re addressed in your country?

” I sat up in bed, watching as his royal highness moved about the small cabin in his boxer briefs.

Damn, the man put Thor to shame in the ripped muscle department.

The broad shoulders tapered down to a slender waist and the most divine ass I’d seen on a man.

And Darius was a man.

It was so obvious now that Derek had just been a boy.

A boy who didn’t want to grow up. He was a year older than I, which had felt like a lot in college.

He’d graduated from Michigan State first and moved to New York City to pursue notoriety as a DJ.

We’d drifted apart. When I graduated, he asked me to join him there, but I just didn’t have enough faith in us.

I didn’t want to limit my career options by honing in on one city, just for a boy.

Didn’t want to make the same mistake as my mom.

So I’d taken a position at Rolling Stone in Los Angeles instead of following him and we’d kept up the long-distance relationship, even though we both knew it was over.

I guess my trip to Ibiza to be with him was my last-ditch effort to save things.

Or to figure out if it was time to let go.

And now that I’d had a man, now that I’d been with Darius, I regretted the years I’d kept myself tangled in that worthless relationship.

I couldn’t believe I’d spent the night being spooned by royalty. After our card game, he’d ordered me to climb into his bed.

I’d been braced for more dominance and sex, but instead, he’d climbed under the covers with me and turned on the television, flipping through and asking me what I liked to watch.

We’d sat up watching the entire first season of Peaky Blinders on Netflix before turning out the light. It had been surprisingly comfortable.

Too comfortable.

My traitorous heart had started to lock onto Darius as the ideal male, one I knew without a shadow of a doubt I’d never have, and one no other man would ever measure up to. So yeah… every minute I spent in the presence of his overwhelming magnetism screwed every future relationship I might have.

“Get out of this bed without my permission and I’ll keep you chained to it for the next two days,” he’d warned in the darkness between us.

I’d frowned, but my pussy had clenched, somehow finding the threat thrilling. Did it really just take one day with the duke to turn me into a BDSM convert?

“Yes, sir,” I’d muttered, and he’d pulled my back against his front, nestling behind me. It was reward enough to soften me, forgetting all offense at his threat. On the floor beside the bed, Shadow’s tail thumped against the floor. Apparently he was as happy as I was to be sleeping with the duke.

I’d woken that morning when he climbed out of bed.

Darius turned to me and his lips twitched as he regrettably pulled a shirt over his head. “You may call me Master. ”

I rolled my eyes.

“Careful, little slave.” He crawled up on the bed. “I’m quick to punish insolence.”

My belly fluttered. I almost wanted a taste of his punishment. But I also had some compelling need to do his bidding. “May I get off the bed now?”

His sexy grin was reward enough. “You may.”

I padded to the bathroom and stopped in the doorway. “Will I be allowed to leave your room today?” I asked casually over my shoulder.

“No.”

Damn .

“Would you mind grabbing my bag from Prince Kaspar’s room?” I wanted my laptop or phone to start taking notes. I also wanted to research every aspect of the Madison James story.

Of course, Darius was onto me. His eyes narrowed. “What do you need from it?”

“Um… just my toiletries, I guess.” Damn. Damn. Damn.

“All right. I’ll be back.” Shadow leaped to his feet as Darius neared the door. “Don’t leave this room.”

“I won’t,” I promised. But after I used the bathroom, I stood at the door in a t-shirt and pair of boxer shorts borrowed from Darius, having an internal debate about the wisdom of taking a peek outside.

Were the other girls still chained up? Or had their ‘masters’ been as kind and lenient underneath it all as mine had? Was this simply a game to all of them? It must be.

Marina certainly hadn’t even thought the BDSM worth mentioning. No, she probably just didn’t want to risk me turning the job down.

I turned the door’s handle and stepped into the corridor on bare feet, listening for any sounds of life.

I heard none. Padding softly, I headed down the corridor.

All the cabin doors were shut. The stairs to sunlight and fresh air beckoned me.

I’d been cooped up in Darius’ cabin for nearly twenty hours.

I climbed the narrow steps, only to have a strong arm wrap around my waist and haul me back down. My back hit a hard, muscled body. When a hand wrapped around my throat, I whimpered.

“What did I tell you about leaving the room, princess?” Darius growled in my ear.

I clawed at the hand on my throat, even though his fingers weren’t closed and no real pressure was being applied.

“Hmm?”

“Darius,” I gasped, my vision starting to close in on me. “Please. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I love when you beg like that. Who owns you, baby? Who are you supposed to obey?”

He was turned on? By my begging? A hot flash of anger seared me, but right on its heels came lust. His desire called to mine, dragging me through my fear and into some strange realm where fear and passion mingled, making an exotic cocktail of endorphins and pheromones.

“You.” I trembled, my knees wobbling.

“Mmm hmm.” His lips brushed over the shell of my ear. The seduction in his voice made my pussy clench. “Now I’m going to have to punish you.” Yes, he definitely sounded excited.

Which excited me. I forced my breathing to slow. Even though I still wanted his hand off my neck, I understood there was no actual threat. He was toying with me, and my reaction turned him on.

How fucked up. And hot.

“Get back in my room.” He released me and gave me a playful slap on the ass, confirming it was all a game to him.

“Y-yes, sir.” My voice wobbled.

The duke picked up a plate of food and my cosmetic bag from the steps and followed me back to his room.

“Clothes off, princess.” The irony that he called me princess when he was the royalty wasn’t lost on me.

As I stripped out of his clothing, he filled Shadow’s bowl with food and set it outside the door, banishing the dog from the room.

He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned me over. “Come here, pretty girl.” The harshness I sometimes observed on his handsome face was gone, eyes dark with hunger as he watched me approach.

He likes me.

I shoved that dangerous thought down, hard. He might want me. That didn’t mean he had feelings for me.

I stood in front of him. Embarrassed over my nudity, I intertwined my fingers in front of my pussy.

“You’re new to discipline, so I’m only going to use my hand. Bend over my knee.” He opened his legs and tugged me between them, then pushed me down so my torso folded over his thigh and rested on the bed.

He slapped my ass, and I gasped at the force of impact and resulting sting.

Was it harder than yesterday, or did it just hurt more in the morning?

Mercifully, he rubbed the spot, melting all the resistance that had surged in my body.

The other butt cheek received the same treatment, and he picked up speed, slapping and rubbing at regular intervals, giving me just enough time to manage my reaction.

The steady buzz between my legs that had been there since the moment the duke had claimed me yesterday flared into a throb, an ache that needed his touch. But he had other plans.

“You disobeyed me, Chelsea girl.” He picked up speed with the spanking, slapping harder and faster.

I squirmed, no longer finding the appeal of spanking. His hand fell harder and it hurt. “I’m sorry!”

“Where were you going?”

“Ung… Just to get— ouch! —fresh air,” I gasped, losing my breath with his steady onslaught.

I kicked my feet, and he clamped his free leg over mine, trapping them and immobilizing my ass, keeping me from dodging his punishing smacks.

“ Okay! ” I cried, ready for it to be over. A little slap and tickle I understood, but this—this was getting painful. My ass had started to burn and throb, and I felt like he’d never stop.

“This is punishment, beautiful. You disobeyed. You will feel my displeasure.”

“Ouch! Come on. Stop!” I groped for the right words. The ones that would make it end. “I’m sorry, sir. Your grace—your highness.”

He stopped spanking and grasped my hair, lifting my head with it.

I yelped.

“Don’t call me that.” There was more packed into those words than I could decipher, but I’d certainly made him angry.

“Master!” I remembered what I hoped was the magic word. “I’m sorry, Master.”

He released my hair and massaged away the tingle on my scalp. “I’m not topping you because I’m royal. I’m topping you because I’m your fucking dom. Got it?”

Tears pricked my eyes. “Yes, sir.” My voice cracked.

He immediately pulled me up to sit on his lap and stroked my hair back from my face. Did I catch concern in his gaze?

Humiliation warred with anger as I struggled to regain control of my emotions. I sucked my lower lip into my mouth to keep it from trembling.

Darius grabbed my face and kissed me, hard.

In an instant, his lips became the conduit for the intensity of emotion brewing in me. I returned the kiss with a fervor, grasping his head, giving it back as good as he gave it. Heat flooded my body, pooling between my legs.

Darius nudged me to my feet, never releasing my face, his tongue plunging in and out of my lips. He used one hand to pull me back on his lap, straddling him.

My bare pussy found his hard length beneath his jeans, and I rocked over it, rubbing my clit, trying to ease the throb there.

Darius palmed my ass and yanked me over his cock. “You want some of this, American sweetheart?”