It's hard to keep things strictly business when the naturally submissive Mozelle “Mouse” Vincent challenges Torin Stuart at every turn and he finds there's more at stake than a controlling interest in the exclusive BDSM club they now share. Because love is the ultimate prize in their power exchange.
Note: This title was previously published.
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Copyright © FRANCESCA HAWLEY, 2011, 2016
She looked beyond Mouse and smiled. “Perfect. He’s right on time for once.”
“Oh my God…” Mouse shivered and ducked her head, adjusting her mask to make sure her face was completely covered.
Mistress Zarah surveyed her. “Oh, now that’s just not fair. I bet you creamed your panties, didn’t you?”
“Mistress, could you please keep your voice down?” Mouse hissed, heat filling her cheeks.
Zarah chuckled. “Oh, I don’t think so. But for your sake, I suggest you don’t speak much when he comes over here or he might recognize your voice.” She turned her head to look behind Mouse. “Ah, Torin. How are you, dear?”
He came around Mouse and gave Zarah a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Well enough, considering.”
“It’s such a loss. We’ll miss Regine terribly, you know that, don’t you?”
“I do. Thank you.” Torin turned and looked Mouse over from head to toe. “Very nice. Is she yours?”
“No, darling. A guest who wants to explore the dark side.”
“As a submissive or is she a Domme in training?”
Tor turned the full force of his gaze on her. Their eyes met briefly before she dropped her gaze to his shoes. Please let him not recognize her. Please.
“Yes, definitely a submissive,” he purred. He lifted his hand and paused, glancing at Zarah. “May I?”
“The choice is hers.”
“Do you have a name?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. Normally, she kept her bushy hair pinned severely back, but the letter that arrived with the clothes ordered her to let it fall around her face naturally.
She glanced at Mistress Zarah, begging for help. Zarah smiled. “Her name is Minnie.”
“That’s her name tonight. Who knows? Her name tomorrow might be Mickey.”
Mouse glared at Zarah, who just laughed.
“Do you want to play with me, Minnie?”
Mouse’s eyes flew to Tor’s. Did he know? Surely not. And what the hell did he mean by play?
“Play?” she squeaked. Damn it. Why did she always have to squeak like a mouse when she was anxious? At least Tor was unfamiliar with her nervous habit because by the time they’d met, Regine had worked the squeak right out of her.
He chuckled, his fingers trailed along the bare skin of her arm from her shoulder to her wrist. Gently, he encircled her wrist and rubbed the vulnerable skin there with his forefinger.
“Yes, Miss Squeak. Play. That means you and I go someplace private and I give you a spanking you’ll never forget. A spanking that will have you begging for more.”
Mouse couldn’t catch her breath as he lightly ran his fingertips up to her elbow. He leaned close and brushed his lips along the edge of her ear. She jerked when his tongue flicked against her lobe.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“Oh sorry. Yes, Sir.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He chuckled in her ear. His hand moved from her elbow to her waist while he tormented her by trailing the fingers of his other hand from her wrist to her shoulder. Then he brushed a finger along her shoulder and up along her neck. Mouse couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through her at his touch.
“You haven’t answered my question. Would you like to play with me?”
She closed her eyes at his purr. God, she wanted him. But what was she letting herself in for if she agreed to this? She opened her eyes and she saw Mistress Zarah grinning at her.
“The choice is yours. What do you want?”