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Savannah

I couldn’t stop shaking. It didn’t matter how many deep breaths I forced myself to take; my world continued to vibrate.

These were the moments I hated most—the moments where I didn’t know what to expect next. And yet, I did. I knew what was going to happen. I just didn’t know when .

Master Luka had sent me a message thirty minutes ago telling me to put on a black dress and wait for him in the foyer. I knew which dress he meant. It was the one he preferred me in when he intended to bring company home.

Short.

Easy access.

Tight across my breasts.

I swallowed, knowing what would follow. His friends would use me to their hearts’ content and leave me shattered in their wake.

I’d ache for days.

There would be bruises.

So many bruises.

But Master Luka would kiss them all away, praising me for pleasing him. He loved to share. And I loved him, so I did whatever he asked. Including this.

I knelt on the area rug, clasping my hands in my lap, waiting in the submissive pose he preferred.

Hours could pass before he finally returned. This was all part of his game. If he found me out of position, I would be punished.

And I didn’t want to be punished.

A trail of goose bumps graced my arms as I thought about the last time I’d left my position. I hadn’t been able to sit for three days.

The memory both frightened and aroused me, causing me to clench my thighs. There was something deliciously forbidden about our relationship, and it caused me to ache in all the right places.

Master Luka owned me.

He took care of me.

He worshiped me.

He fucked me.

He shared me.

Some part of me should hate him for this dark addiction, but instead I found myself craving him every moment of every day.

Which was why I put on the dress and waited for him. Why I plaited my long, dark hair into the braids I knew he enjoyed. And also why I slipped a lacy mask over my eyes.

The presentation was all part of the game. One misstep and he’d notice. I had to be perfect. Calm. Breathe .

I inhaled slowly.

Then exhaled.

And repeated.

He would arrive when he was ready. Counting the minutes would only worsen the ache, so I fell into a trancelike state, my entire world his for the taking.

Every sound became a beat of expectation, causing my heart to race inside my chest.

Is that him? Is he finally here? Who did he bring home with him? Would they be new friends or ones I already knew?

Desire throbbed inside me, coupled with fear.

There were certain friends of Master Luka’s that I didn’t enjoy playing with. They were too rough. They enjoyed blood, and they liked trying to make me scream.

Somehow, Master Luka seemed to know my intrinsic fear of those few men and had never brought them back again to play. But what if that changed tonight? What if I’d done something to upset him? Would he allow them to punish me?

I shuddered at the thought.

No . I hadn’t done anything wrong. Master Luka also never shared his punishments; he handled those himself.

Tonight was about fun.

Pleasure.

Sex .

Decadent, addictive fucking designed to take me to new heights.

I nearly groaned at the expectation, then stilled as the sound of footsteps echoed outside the door. He’s home.

My palms slicked with anticipation while my chest pounded with trepidation. I forced myself to swallow, to focus on the ground, and to not peek up at him as he entered. It was a feat in itself because I loved admiring Master Luka.

He was an Adonis, with chiseled features and a powerful body built to dominate mine. His thick, dark hair felt like silk between my fingers, and his closely trimmed beard often tickled my thighs when he kissed me intimately. Oh, but his midnight eyes were my favorite, the way they always watched me, sensing my needs before I even knew them.

The perfect Master.

My Master.

The alarm beeped as he unlocked the front door, his security system one of the best on the market. To an outsider, it would appear he was protecting something precious within his massive estate. But sometimes I wondered if the system was designed to hold me hostage, to ensure I never escaped. Not that I’d ever try.

Where would I go?

Master Luka owned the city.

A business king.

Wealthy as sin.

Anything and everything he desired, he owned. Including me. And no one would ever question him or his tastes. Because to do so would be career suicide.

Warm air brushed my skin as the door opened, the sound of footsteps following as Master Luka led his friends into the manor.

I held my position, my hands still clasped in my lap, my attention on the marble floor just beyond the rug.

No one spoke to me, the three men lost in their own conversation. Something about a new acquisition Master Luka was considering in New York City. He enjoyed collecting failed businesses and turning them around.

My father’s business had been one of those acquisitions once.

It was how Master Luka and I had met.

He’d purchased the family business, the arrangement untraditional. Mostly because the purchase had included me as well.

And I’d been his ever since.

“Mitchell suggested against the investment, but you know how I feel about risks,” a deep voice rumbled.

I shivered, not recognizing the masculine tone. Which meant Master Luka had brought home new friends for me to entertain.

What kind of lovers would they be? Harsh? Demanding? Thorough? Or were they the type to only take their own pleasure?

I’d experienced so many different types during my time with Master Luka. He enjoyed expanding my skill set through the use of his associates, just as I enjoyed learning new things.

But what if tonight he took it too far?

Would I break? Scream? Beg him to stop?

There was only one way to find out.

The men walked around me, not acknowledging my presence, and went to hang their jackets. Then Master Luka escorted them down the hall, asking if they wanted a drink.

I knew better than to follow.

I remained in the foyer, knowing it was what he expected of me, and would sit here all night if I had to.

Their masculine murmurs subsided as the door to Luka’s study closed, securing them deep within the manor.

How long would he drag this out? Minutes? Hours? I never knew because he changed the game each time. We’d been playing it for over a year, nearly two, and he continued to surprise me.

Deep breaths , I coached myself. No counting. Just exist .

I allowed my mind to close, my senses stretching out around me to pick up any hint of change in the air. Each passing moment increased my anticipation.

What would they do to me?

How would they take me?

Were they thinking about me right now? Eager to begin? Or were they calm and patient like Luka? He could tease me for hours before succumbing to his desires. He’d leave me weeping and begging, then take me to the most erotic heights of my existence, causing me to pant and cry out for more.

Mmm, I adored his wicked tendencies. Even when they hurt.

A moan caught in my throat, but I knew better than to release it. Signs of eagerness would not be rewarded.

Master Luka adored patience.

However, I could never hide my body’s reaction to him. The evidence of my excitement would be found between my legs. He’d likely make me suck his fingers clean. Then perhaps give me another part of his anatomy to worship with my mouth.

I liked the way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he moved .

I nearly squirmed at the thought, then remembered my place.

As if he sensed my impending disobedience, Master Luka chose that moment to return with his guests.

The scent of brandy wafted around them, mingled in expensive aftershave and a cologne that was all Luka. Peppermint spice . I inhaled through my nose, reveling in the aroma of man .

“Savannah,” my Master murmured as he moved to stand in front of me. All I could see were his fancy black shoes and his trademark dark slacks—Master Luka preferred designer suits. And he looked amazing in them.

“Are you thirsty, baby?” he asked me, his hand shifting across my view to show the drink he held. Definitely brandy, I thought, recognizing the notes in the air.

“Yes, Sir,” I told him softly. He really could mean all manner of things with his question, but I would accept whatever he desired and he knew it.

The forefinger and thumb of his opposite hand slipped into the brandy to retrieve an ice cube, then he brought it to my lips, painting them in cool liquid. “Open.”

I did and fought a moan as he dipped the coldness inside. My parched throat swallowed greedily, telling me I’d been kneeling in this foyer for longer than I’d realized, because I was dying of thirst.

Yet it wasn’t a drink I truly wanted, but him .

I licked his thumb, salivating for a taste of him. He smirked, then removed the ice cube and brought the glass to my lips to tip the contents back into my throat. I accepted his gift, allowing the alcohol to cool my racing nerves.

This was only the beginning.

We had the whole night ahead of us.

And I couldn’t wait.