But I’m sure as fuck not going to let some prick steal her out from under me before I have a chance.
Joe Levi has his hands on her. Just a firm grip on her chin. But it’s a display of ownership and interest. He’s debating on whether or not she’s worthy to take on as a Slave. Some men like to break them, some like them already trained. In a way, Katia is both.
But not for him.
She’s mine. And he needs to get his hands off of her.
“Kitten,” I call out to her past Joe in a voice that makes him turn. My heavy steps echo in the room as I approach. I can feel several eyes on us, but I don’t care if I’m making a spectacle. I won’t allow it.
Joseph Levi is known to have dark preferences. Like me in some ways, but darker. He enjoys degradation and humiliation. Or so I’ve heard. It’s his reputation, but he’s only been at the club for a few months and he rarely interacts. He’s been to every auction though, but he’s yet to place a bid. Like me.
I should have known he was waiting for the same thing I was. For Katia. But he can back the fuck off. He has no idea what she’s been through. He can’t give her what she needs like I can.
But she doesn’t know me. She has no clue what’s in store for her. And ultimately it’s her choice.
Katia raises her eyes to mine. A shuddering breath raising her shoulders. There’s an instant spark as her breath hitches. Every inch of my skin prickles with recognition. My heart beats faster, and my blood heats with desire. She’s kneeling and waiting for a Master. She was waiting for me.
“There’s no collar here,” Joe says, looking at me with narrowed eyes. I turn at the sound of his voice, ripping my attention from Katia and pissing me off even more. Irritated doesn’t begin to cover it.
“No, there isn’t.” I fucking hate that he’s right. And I intend on remedying that situation before she leaves. I don’t want her in here with anyone thinking they can take her. She’s vulnerable, impressionable. I need to make my claim on her now.
“Then you can wait,” he says in a cold voice, turning his back to me and stepping to the side to block my view of her. Rage spikes through my blood
Fucking bastard. My hand balls into a fist and from the corner of my eyes I can see a crowd forming, security making their way over to us. Everyone knows I won’t be taking that disrespect lightly. I have no right, but I don’t give a fuck. My heart races, and my blood boils. I won’t fucking allow it.
She does not belong to him.
I crack my neck, ignoring the approaching footsteps of Joshua and Dominic, and step up to him, my hand pushing on his shoulder to get his attention. I’m ready to beat him to a bloody fucking pulp if I have to, and I have a good feeling it’s coming to that.
I’m not a hothead; I’m not an overtly angry person. But when it comes to her, things are different.
His dark eyes dart to mine and his grip on Katia’s drops as he makes a fist of his own, preparing for what’s to come.
But before either of us can do anything, Katia speaks up, slicing through the thick tension. “No,” she says in a strong voice that rings out clearly. She instantly hunches in slightly, regret and fear clearly evident. We both turn to look at her, her wide blue eyes focused on the ground as she struggles to compose herself. Insecurity is washing off of her in waves. She lifts her head to look at Joe, vulnerability shining brightly in her eyes.
Fuck me, my heart crumbles in my chest. It will shred me if she feels something with him. I can feel the spark between us, the pull to her. Does she not feel it in return?
“I’m sorry,” she speaks barely above a murmur, her voice cracking. She clears her throat and then her eyes find mine. “Sir?” she addresses me, turning slightly still in her kneeling position to face me and placing her small hands on my shoe before resting her cheek on the floor. A sign of complete submission.
She chose me.
My chest fills with pride and I’ll admit it, arrogance.
Joe snorts at me and glances at Katia, but doesn’t say anything as he storms off. He brushes past the crowd that’s gathered and it’s only then that I really notice them.
Madam Lynn and Joshua are staring at me with contempt. This certainly isn’t discreet, and it’s not going to go unnoticed. I hadn’t planned on this. But I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers.
I ignore them. I ignore the whispers and the way Madam Lynn crosses her arms with obvious disapproval. I give Katia my full attention, crouching low to place a hand on the back of her head.
“May I look you in the eyes?” she asks with her gaze forward, focused on the floor.
I hate that she has to ask that question, but she has no idea what the rules are. She doesn’t know what it’s like here, and her perception of a M/s relationship is skewed and inaccurate. But I'm going to fix that.
“You may. Always.” As her eyes reach mine, I cup her chin and take a good look at her for the first time. Her skin is soft and sun-kissed. Her neck and shoulders are gorgeous; they're my favorite parts of the female body. The elegant curves drive me wild. She has a splash of freckles along her skin, and thin silver scars scattered along them as well.
She’s beautiful.
“Always look me in the eyes,” I say softly as I rub my thumb along her jaw, willing her to look at me. Those soft pale blue eyes seem to look through me, chilling my body. “Never hesitate to speak or to respond. Understood?”
I’m already laying down rules, but that’s the way it works here. We all have preferences, and it’s much easier to be upfront about them and ensure that the time spent isn’t wasted. Tastes within the club are specific, so it’s best to be forthcoming. And she needs to know what I expect.
“Yes,” she replies, and her voice lingers, as if she’s not sure what to call me.
“Master.”
She sucks in a deep breath. I can see she’s uncomfortable. That’s to be expected. She’s new to this. I need to slow down my approach and keep that in mind.
“When you’re ready, you will call me Master.” I debate on allowing it, but I concede, “Isaac is acceptable as well.”
She looks hesitant, and I hate that. She’s clenching her thighs slightly and her breathing has picked up. Which is a damn good sign since it means she’s aroused at least. But she’s still frightened and new.
“Yes,” she says, and again she seems as though she’s going to say more, but she doesn’t. She hasn’t budged an inch. She’s on edge and tense.
What she needs is to get off.
“And what should I call you?” I ask.
“Whatever pleases you,” she answers in a sultry voice, her body shuddering with pleasure.
I smirk at her response, feeling the adrenaline calming down and my dick hardening. “What’s your name?” I ask her, even though I already know. I’ve already decided I’m not going to tell her what I know. I’ll let her confide in me what she’d like to, for two reasons. The first is that I may have misinterpreted something and I don’t want her to assume I know everything, especially when her perception may be different from what’s written down on paper. And the second is that I want her to desire confiding in me. I want her to open up to me at her own pace. But to be a good Master, I needed to know her background, so I have no guilt or shame about looking into her past.