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  Voice low and soft, he pressed a kiss to my ear and released me. “Good girl.”

  PART TWO:

  Betrayed

  Chapter Thirteen

  The day after Christmas, I jerked upright and looked around frantically, but the bed was empty except for me and Sheba. Charlie’d said goodbye last night while slowly stroking my body with his and told me he wouldn’t wake me when he left. I’d lain awake for hours, determined to kiss him again, even if it was 4:00 a.m. I wanted to stand at the door in nothing but his shirt and wave as he pulled away. I’d stayed up all night before. Easily. I thought I was a fairly light sleeper too.

  I glared at Sheba, the traitor who once again hadn’t whined or barked or gotten out of bed to go out when the master slipped away in the dead of night.

  My throat ached, a lump the size of Texas swelling in my chest. Alone. After stripping me down to my lowest, basest self, he’d left me alone.

  I drew my knees up, hugging myself into a ball, ready to bawl myself into oblivion. But the crumple of paper made me sit up and search through the blankets. I found his note and smoothed it out with trembling fingers.

  I promised you a list of chores to accomplish each day while I’m away. With this much to do, I’ll be home before you know it.

  I couldn’t help but snort. Not hardly. No lengthy list was going to make these days alone pass any quicker.

  1. Take Sheba on a walk—no running!—every day for at least one hour.

  2. See someone from your family every day and eat at least one meal with someone else daily.

  3. Stay connected to your friends.

  4. Go to work as scheduled.

  5. Read at least one book and be ready to talk with me about it. Any genre, any author, but something you’re passionate about.

  I couldn’t help but grimace. I’d planned to call in sick and have myself a long, long, pity party. I’d bury myself in his bed and hug his dog and pillow while wearing one of his shirts and simply sleep until he came home. Stupid, I know. I couldn’t check out of my life based on whether he was here or not. I knew that. But old habits die hard.

  He’d known exactly what I’d be tempted to do, and set rules to help me avoid it.

  Tears trickled down my cheeks, but not from aching loneliness this time. What a master I had found.

  6. I’ll call you every night promptly at nine o’clock your time. At eight thirty, you will begin edging yourself until I call, so that you’ll be ready to come at my command.

  7. No touching yourself or coming at any other time unless I give you explicit orders to carry out.

  Yikes, that would be tough. Just thinking about not getting off until he called tonight made my pussy tighten with longing, though I’d never cared much for masturbating. It was like cooking for myself. I’d much rather give my pleasure to someone else.

  8. Set the alarm every night.

  9. TAKE SHEBA WITH YOU EVERYWHERE YOU GO.

  The dog liked to follow me into the bathroom. I’d planned to take her to the clinic with me today anyway so she could hang out with the other dogs while I cleaned their cages and topped their food and water bowls. But the grocery store? How was I going to pull that off? I tried to imagine taking the huge dog into Walmart and laughed out loud.

  In the shower—pleased that I was showering, instead of lying grungy about the house in a haze—I couldn’t help but think about my friends. He’d told me to stay connected, but did he know that my only real friends were all online? How could he? Although I’d mentioned that’s how I’d met Josh.

  He hadn’t explicitly ordered me to stay out of those chat rooms. I argued back and forth in the shower, trying to decide what to do. I ached to talk to someone who got it, who understood the way my mind worked. The thought of talking to Mom about Charlie made me cringe. She had no idea why I liked to be abused, as she called it. Why I had no backbone. Why I couldn’t stand up for myself in a relationship. She had no inkling of the urges I carried inside of me.

  I traced my fingers over the still vibrant bite marks on my skin and shivered despite the thick steam in the air. Why I’d allow—no, beg—a man to hurt me like this. Why I ached to have him do it again.

  My online friends got it. Many of them were subs themselves. Some were married to vanilla partners who allowed and even encouraged them to play elsewhere. Some were in the closet, so to speak, miserable and yet too afraid to admit to their significant others that they had a hidden need. And yeah, there were a lot of hookups made. It was amazing how much of a BDSM relationship could be had on Skype nowadays. Charlie would be gone for days and yet he’d left me a very explicit list of his commands. Long-distance relationships could work well, especially with the ability to check in and see each other via video feed. A subbie like me just wanted someone to tell me what to do—who had the power and ability to punish severely if I didn’t do exactly as he said.

  While I tamed my hair into a thick braid, I played back every conversation I’d had with Charlie to see if I could find any hint that he’d disapprove. I almost called him, or at least texted him, but I didn’t want to interrupt whatever work he was doing to ask such a ridiculous question. Is it okay if I visit a chat room so I can gush about how great a master you are?

  Why would he care? No one but Josh knew slaverainy was me or where I lived.

  Biting my lip nervously, I fished my tablet out of my overnight bag. He’d ordered me to keep connected to my friends. My only friends were online. So it would be okay.

  Please be okay.

  Two wifi connections popped up, both secured and equally strong. One’s name was all numbers and letters, but the other one was titled CharlieMac. I had no idea what the password might be. Knowing his freaky security system, it probably wasn’t worth trying to guess. But for kicks and giggles I tried sheba, what I would have used if I’d set up his network.

  It worked. My fingers remembered the URL and password to the chat room without conscious thought. Slaverainy popped onto the grid, though I stayed invisible long enough to scan the other visitors to make sure Josh’s stpaulDom7 wasn’t online. After our breakup, he’d been kicked out of this particular chat room, but I couldn’t help but check each time, just to be safe.

  I hit the button to switch over to visible, and my screen scrolled with hellos and hugs from people I’d never met but had told some of my darkest secrets.

  littlewren: Rainy!! We missed u!

  DaddyBear: How r u l2? Any problems?

  DaddyBear called littlewren “l1,” and me, as her online sister, “l2.” They’d been my first example of what a loving BDSM relationship could be like. As the moderator, he watched out for all of the subbies. In many ways, he was my online big brother, one who got me.

  slaverainy: I’m ok, bz with xmas and work.

  littlewren: R u seeing any1 yet?

  My fingers hovered over the keyboard. My heart raced with giddy excitement, but my fingers were cold and brittle. Deep down, I feared that if I started typing my new secrets, the bubble might burst and all this newfound hope would be lost.

  But after all the love and support they’d already given me on this journey, I couldn’t hide this latest and possibly greatest turn my life had ever taken.

  slaverainy: Yes. 3 days.

  littlewren: Do we know him?

  slaverainy: No.

  littlewren: R u happy?

  slaverainy: Immensely.

  The screen filled with unicorn GIFs, all sparkly and dainty. Littlewren’s favorite thing.

  DaddyBear: We love u and worry about u. Tell us about him. Please. Does ur family know?

  My throat tightened, but not with resentment. They’d talked me down from more cliffs than my parents would ever know. They listened without judgment when I’d agonized over losing Josh and realizing how low I’d sunk. How I’d deliberately killed my own identity. Suddenly my fingers flew over the keyboard, the words moving too quickly for me to read my own story about Charlie bubbling up on the screen.

&n
bsp; slaverainy: He insisted my family know and talked to my dad. We spent xmas there. He’s away on a business trip but I’m going to be ok because he gave me a list of instructions. He wanted me to connect with friends so here I am. He’s amazing and gorgeous and patient and kind but he also has a dark side that he lets out just for me. So hard, so fierce, so scary. I love it. I love him. I know that’s crazy in only 3 days but I do. He’s already done more for me than stpaulDom7 ever knew to do. How to keep me balanced and stable yet give me exactly the pain I need. He knows everything. EVERYTHING. And he still wants me.

  DaddyBear: Of course he wants u, l2. Just be careful. Would he be willing to talk to us? We want u to be safe. Lots of predators out there looking for littles and slaves to abuse. Way 2 many end up dead. Not on my watch.

  slaverainy: Maybe. He’s gone a lot for work. Do u see any warning signs in what I told u?

  The screen blinked for what seemed an uncomfortably long time.

  DaddyBear: He hurts u like u need. But does he scare u?

  slaverainy: Yes. But not in a bad way. It makes me squirmy horny. I sent a blushing emoji to match my red cheeks. Plus he insists on a safeword.

  DaddyBear: U have bruises?

  slaverainy:Some. shrug

  DaddyBear: Marks? Cuts?

  slaverainy: Tooth marks, yes. No cuts.

  littlewren: Biter, huh? Meow.

  slaverainy:Dark,beautifulbites.Gorgeous. shivers

  I checked my watch and used my job as an excuse. If littlewren got to asking about his technique I wasn’t ever going to get to work.

  slaverainy: Have 2 go 2 work.

  Daddybear: Talk to him about us and see if he’ll meet us. B happy. B safe.

  littlewren: Maybe a pic of those bruises l8r? Love u, l2! Hugs!

  slaverainy: Love u 2.

  Smiling, I shut my laptop down and whistled for Sheba. Charlie was right. Reconnecting with my friends made me feel worlds better. Any time I started to feel too lonely and lost without him, my friends were a few clicks away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Panting, I dropped my head down on the pillow and stilled my fingers. I was so drenched, so close, hot and tight and swollen. If I wasn’t careful, I’d come as soon as the phone rang, in anticipation of hearing his voice. Thirty minutes of edging had been brutal, but the real test had been thinking about it all day. As much as I hated to admit it, knowing I had this time to prepare myself for him, I’d been able to get through the day without him.

  When it’d finally been time to head to his bedroom, I’d hardly needed to touch myself to feel the first coiling of pleasure tightening in my abdomen.

  My phone rang and I bit back a groan. Yes. Finally. Using my left hand, I answered his call. “Charlie.”

  “How’s my kitten?”

  Just hearing his voice added to the torment. “Okay. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. Did the day creep by or were you able to enjoy yourself at all?”

  He hadn’t told me to stop edging myself, but touching myself while listening to his voice was torture. I wanted his fingers squeezing those pressure points, his eyes dark with desire, his mouth... I bit back a gasp. “I made it to work.”

  “I expected nothing less.” His voice lightened and I could hear the grin in his words. He loved knowing how close I was, how hard I had to fight not to come while trying to have a normal conversation. “Dr. Wentworth said she didn’t know what she’d do without you. You like your job?”

  “Yes.” My breathing quickened, nearly a pant. My butt cheek cramped, only increasing my torment. I was so wet, I might have to change the sheets before settling in to sleep. “I don’t like dealing with people as much as animals. But I’ve learned a lot.”

  He suddenly sharpened his voice. “Am I going to have to punish you for crossing a hard limit?”

  My back bowed and I clenched my thighs together, trying to hold back the climax threatening to make me scream. “What?”

  “You sound like you’ve been running,” he said suspiciously.

  I laughed breathlessly. “Not hardly, Master. Just edging, as you ordered.”

  “What are you using to keep that sweet pussy humming with desire?”

  His voice lowered to a purr that made me shudder. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “Just my fingers.”

  “You don’t like toys much.”

  “I don’t dislike them,” I said quickly, in case he wanted me to use that butt plug. “But I don’t need them.”

  “What do you need?”

  “You, just you.”

  “Are you wet?”

  “Yes.” My voice caught on a groan I couldn’t contain. “Please, Master.”

  “Did you need pain to get this far?”

  “No. Just thinking about you.”

  “Good.” He chuckled, a deep rumble that made my clit throb against my fingers. “Nobody hurts you but me.”

  Everything tightened, my hips rising off the mattress. I was going to come and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. “Master!”

  “Now, Ranay. Let me hear you.”

  My breath rushed out on a guttural cry. Muscles wrenched tight, I lost track of the phone. I plunged my fingers deep, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted his cock filling me up, his weight trapping me beneath him. I moaned with frustration as much as pleasure. It was good, but not what I wanted.

  Lifting my head, I fumbled around for the phone and raised it back to my ear.

  As soon as he heard my breathing, he whispered my name.

  “Yeah?”

  “As soon as I get home, I’m going to bury myself in that pussy so deep you’ll swear you can feel me in your throat.”

  “Promise?”

  “Absolutely.” With the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, a question popped into my head. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Always. The more personal the better.”

  “How did you learn that blood arouses you?”

  I could hear him breathing, steady and regular, but it took him a few moments to reply. “Sorry, I’m not trying to think of a way to blow off your question. I’m trying to remember how it first came to be.”

  “I mean, were you young? Did you fall down and skin your knee, see the blood, and get all uncomfortable and weird?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. If you fell down and skinned your knee, would the pain set you off?”

  “Not deliberately. I like pain, sure, but in a sexual setting. Regular pain is just pain.”

  “Exactly. And regular blood is just blood. There’s more to the story, but it’s a long and complex one.”

  “Okay. When you’re ready.” I want to know everything about you.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your friends you spoke to.”

  “I don’t know anyone here in Springfield other than family.” I hesitated a moment, hoping he wouldn’t be upset. “So I talked to my friends online. Is that okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? They’re your friends.”

  I closed my eyes and sagged deeper into the mattress. “I didn’t know for sure. My family hates the forum because that’s where I met Josh.”

  “I see. Was Josh in that chat room?”

  “He used to be, but they kicked him out after what happened with me.”

  “Then I like these friends even more.” The warmth in his voice filled me up with joy and relief. “Friends are a good thing. You need their support.”

  “They helped me through the break-up as much as they could. Once I came home, my family wanted me to stay offline. If my sister knew I still hung out with them, trying to drum up another loser, as she called them, she’d have had a fit. So I haven’t visited with them as often as I’d like.”

  “You need your friends, especially people who understand what you are and how you feel. Your sister isn’t living your life. You are.”

  My family loved me, sure. But I had the unfortunate tendency of giving up things for people who loved me. Even when they had the bes
t of intentions. “Yeah.”

  “You do need to be careful, though. There are men in this world who’d risk a great deal to track down a special little sub like you. They’d rip you apart. They’re the worst kind of predator.”

  “You wouldn’t let that happen.” I said it confidently, without hesitation, but I was surprised when he didn’t immediately reply. I waited, my fingers tightening on the phone.

  When he answered, his voice was so gruff I could barely understand him. “I’m a predator too, Ranay. You’d be better off without me.”

  I shot upright and clutched the phone. “No. No, I wouldn’t. I need you, Master. I need you so much...” My throat closed off and I couldn’t speak. All I could do was clutch the phone like a lifeline.

  “Oh, Ranay.” He sighed heavily. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  Ice crept around my heart. I suddenly had the awful thought that I might never see him again, even though I was in his bed and house. I didn’t know what to do or say, afraid to cling too hard and drive him away.

  “I was supposed to help you. Protect you. Not start counting the days myself until I can finally come home and bury myself in your sweet heat again.”

  Relieved, I laughed shakily. “This heat is all yours, Master.” He didn’t return my laughter and I sensed heaviness from him, from the way he breathed. I scrambled around for another topic to try to lighten his mood. “You’ve met my family but I don’t know anything about yours.”

  Silence. He wasn’t even breathing now. I drew my knees up, a shivering ball in his bed. Stupid, so stupid! Family was a touchy subject for most people. I loved my family and yet most of the time I felt like an alien in my childhood home. If he hadn’t had a happy family life, I was asking him to rip open those wounds for me.

  “I don’t have any family,” he finally said, his voice flat and empty.

  “I’m sorry.” Regret tightened my throat, my eyes burning. I should have known. He was so adamant for me to connect with my family and friends, probably because he’d lost his own. “You don’t have to tell me about them.”