I yelp at the sharp smack that earns me across my ass that’s still sore from our last session. “No more spanking. I can’t handle any more. I’ve barely been able to sit down. Please.”
“Please, what?” he demands as he walks down the stairwell to the basement, not winded or off balance by my weight in the slightest bit.
I grind my teeth together but my ass really is too sore for any more abuse. “Please, Master.” Alright, so that Master might have been dripping with sarcasm. And he doesn’t miss that because it earns me another sharp smack on the ass.
I screech but then hurriedly squeak out, “Yes, Master!”
“That’s better.” I can hear the smile in his voice, the smug bastard.
I’m so off-kilter, I can barely take in my surroundings. But I still recognize it when he takes me straight to the dungeon. Because of course he does. My entire stay is probably going to be in this damn place. The stone walls, the familiar musty smell that I’ve missed even though I’ve been away from it for such a short time… Why am I excited instead of scared?
Because Logan is Master, a voice whispers from deep within.
I glance around at the cross set up against the wall, all sorts of implements hanging here and there. A bench I think is meant for...for spanking. And a table that he walks straight over to and deposits me on.
“Take off your clothes.”
I bite my lip and hazard a glance at Logan. His face is cold, devoid of emotion. I glare at him and do as he says. I pull off my shirt and bra quickly and efficiently. It’s not a strip tease. I kick off my jeans and leave them in a pile at my feet. The same with my underwear.
I’m not quite sure how I manage to stand, back straight, completely naked in front of him, but I do. He doesn’t look down at my body. Doesn’t even peek.
“Get on the table.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. My heart starts racing a hundred miles an hour but I hop up on the table and lay down.
There are cuffs at the wrist and ankles that Logan begins to swiftly attach to me, tying me down.
And...and...I- I-
I’m thrilled.
I lay my head back and close my eyes as I silently admit to myself what I’ll never ever say out loud. I’m back where I belong. My toes flex in anticipation. I have absolutely no idea what Logan, what my Master, will do to me.
But I trust him. This is the boy who noticed I was lonely and took me for sandwiches all those years ago. And the man who demands things of my body I never knew I had to give. I’ve never felt more alive or in my body than right this second.
“Look at you,” Logan croons, the first time his voice has softened even the slightest bit since I’ve arrived. “Your body is quivering for my touch. You want this, don’t you?” He skims his fingers up my thigh. “You want this bad.”
I can’t help quivering in response and I try to stop my gasp but don’t manage in time.
“Well, today, little girl, is going to be your first trial. And your first lesson. You can’t always get what you want.”
I frown. What does that mean?
Logan prowls around the table.
“Did you learn about the twelve labors of Hercules in school?”
I nod. “I think so. It sounds familiar. But I- I don’t remember the particulars.”
“Hercules too committed a great sin, and so in penance, the oracle told him to go serve King Eurystheus and do all that he asked of him. The King set him to twelve labors, each more difficult than the last.”
Logan bends over me, eyes blazing into mine. “The last task had him descend into the very bowels of hell itself.” He trails a finger gently down my face and then between my breasts, pain and anger etched between his brows. “Are you willing to go to hell and back for your sins, Daphne?”
I strain against my bindings. I didn’t commit the sins he’s bound and determined to think I did, I want to scream. Why is he so determined to think the worst of me? What’s happened to him to make him like this? The boy I once knew and even the man of the last two weeks I’ve become so intimate with... Finding Logan again only to lose him—I can’t. I won’t.
So I tell him the truth. “I’m willing to do it for you.” I’ll fight for him, dammit. For this. For us.
For a second, just for the briefest flicker of a moment, I think I see something in him crack—a flash of the Logan I know and cherish.
But the next second the Master is back, cold and calculating. He pulls back and stands up straight, turning away from me.
“Then let us begin.”
Nine
7 Years Ago
Daphne
“How did I know I’d find you here?”
I look up at hearing my favorite voice, butterflies alight in my stomach.
Logan.
He pays attention to me out of pity, I know that’s why. But still my heart soars every time he stops by to say hi, and the few times he’s taken me out to eat—heaven.
“Hi Logan.” I try for my voice not to sound shy but don’t quite succeed. Gods, don’t look like a timid little girl! I thought there was maybe a moment at the Ubeli’s ball when he saw me as more…but then he wouldn’t dance with me and I barely saw him the rest of the night.
“How long have you been hunched over your books here?” he asks. “I saw you when you came in this morning and that was hours ago. Have you been at it all night?”
I blink blearily and glance over at the clock on the wall, then down at my laptop. “I was trying to finish this chapter on my dissertation and I guess time got away from me.”
His brow furrows. “Have you had any sustenance other than coffee?” He gestures at the several empty coffee cups in the corners of my little study carrel.
A thrill goes through me in spite of my tiredness. Does this mean he’s about to take me on one of our little lunch dates? Then I wince internally. No, they aren’t dates. I’m a pity project and he’s a good man afraid of a girl on his watch dying of starvation.
He lifts an eyebrow. “Woman cannot live on coffee alone. Come on.”
Woman. He called me woman.
He was making a joke. Don’t be an idiot.
But I’m nodding and getting to my feet. “Okay, if you say so.” Inside, I’m doing cartwheels. Logan date! Logan date!
I’m too tired to fight the internal battle and allow myself to just be happy as he leads me to our favorite sandwich shop.
But to my surprise, he gets our order to go.
My heart sinks. No Logan date after all. He’s just seeing that I’m fed and taking me right back where he found me. Dear heavens, this is embarrassing.
I stand up straighter and try to be a grown-up about the whole thing. “Look, Logan. I appreciate it but really, I can take care of myself. Let me just pay for this, then I’ll get out of your hair.”
I try to reach for my wallet in my purse but he puts his big, warm hands on mine, stopping me.
Logan Wulfe is touching me. I melt under the contact, especially when I look up and those intense blue eyes are locked on mine.
“Daphne, it’s okay to let someone look out for you once in a while. And after all your father has done for me, it’s the least I can do to provide his hungry daughter a meal once in a while. Please?”