When he’d taken her collar, he’d said A slave doesn’t collar herself. He even understood that about her. Yes, she was a submissive, but in her mind she preferred the far more stark and aggressive term of slave. Myriad definitions in the D/s world for each status didn’t matter to her. It was what he meant when he said it, and the way it made her feel. His.

“My brain might be in my cock, Marcie, but my eyes aren’t.”

She brought her gaze up to his, reluctantly. His lips twisted, seeing it. If things were different, if he truly accepted her as his, she knew he would have dished out some punishment for the infraction, minor as it was. Ben was the kind of Master who didn’t let anything slide. She hungered for that, loved the idea of that kind of structure, safety. She craved the sharp edge of his discipline enough to challenge that side of him, again and again. But right now, she had enough to do controlling her own body. Her knees wouldn’t stop quivering, no matter how much she tried to make them do so. She wasn’t sure they’d ever support her weight again.

“How did you know about me? About us?” he asked.

To pull it together and answer him, she imagined she was in a meeting, being asked for a report. It wasn’t easy in this setting, but she let familiar practice guide her. “Once Lucas and Cass got together, I picked up on things, but I always knew, in a way.”

He was still waiting. She hadn’t answered the question fully, so she backtracked a few steps. It was truly odd to do this naked, and right after a climax besides. Like a surreal Penthouse letter. She quelled a strange hiccup of laughter at the thought.

“My passion’s always been investigation, research.” And you, but she didn’t add that. “I’m freelancing a couple cases for Pickard Consulting now.” She moistened her dry lips again. “You remember, I was studying K&A, how you all do things, when I was in middle school. As I went along, I also read the social blogs, picked up hints. Things others would miss. Then at home…as I said, I noticed things. Really subtle, because Lucas and Cass were pretty discreet, given all the kids. But because of what I am…I picked up on it.”

It was like hearing a song she knew, over and over. One day she’d put together all the clues, found the name of it.

She saw an ominous flicker in his eyes, but she straightened, made her voice as firm as she could manage. “I could see it, in the way you interact with each other at family barbecues, Christmas, whatever. When I was eighteen, I found Cass’ membership card to Surreal. By that point, it confirmed what I already knew.”

She stopped, not sure what else to say. But it didn’t matter. He was closing up on her. Picking up her skirt, her panties, he dropped them on the couch. “Get dressed. We’ll talk more in my office.”

He was headed for the door, going to leave her here. The spell where he’d been caring for her, all of his focus on her, was breaking. He’d draw back, rationalize. If he took this away from her, if it stopped, she’d die. He’d opened the door, and he couldn’t close it now. She couldn’t let him.

“I’ve known what I am for a long time, Ben.” She blurted it out. He paused, his hand on the latch, but he didn’t turn. “I mean, you don’t call it that when you’re young, but when you fantasize about superheroes tying you up, and your favorite game is Ken torturing Barbie in a dungeon, you start to realize… You want to know the first really great erotic dream I had, the one that made me feel like, yes, that’s what I am?”

He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t tell her to stop either. Not that she gave him much of a chance, the words tumbling out. “I suspected Lucas was Cass’ Master, that you were all Doms. I wasn’t completely sure, because I was still exploring it in myself.”

Her rational mind might not have been certain, but the part of her that controlled her dreams had known. “I fantasized I was blindfolded, led into a bedroom by Jon. I recognized his hands, even though I never saw him. I heard noises, soft cries. Then I could see things, even though the me in the dream was blindfolded. Cass was tied, all spread out on the bed, her knees bent over the edge of the mattress, calves bound to the bed rails. I’d been pushed down on my knees on the floor, right between her spread ankles. Peter turned me so my back was against the foot of the bed, and my arms were tied to Cass’ calves. My thighs and…ass hurt, as if they’d been whipped. It felt good, sore that way. Then Lucas was there. He ordered me to open my mouth, fed his cock into it.”

Ben turned, his eyes narrowing. Though she pushed onward, she focused on the wall next to his head, not sure she could meet his gaze for this. “I was pushed back against the mattress as he leaned over me, his cock going deeper down my throat. He made me service him as he went down on my sister, made her scream out her climax. He came just as she did. I was burning up with the desire to come, but I knew I wasn’t allowed. Not until you said so.”

There was a stillness in the small room now, a heated intensity that was building. She dared the flame at last, meeting the green fire of his eyes.

“You were there. When Lucas moved, joined Cass on the bed, you picked me up, told me I was a good girl, that I’d taken care of Lucas just the way you’d ordered me to do it. Then, in that very same room, while Lucas was fucking Cass, you bent me over a chair, spread my legs and began to fuck me. You were so hard, so big, I was afraid I couldn’t take you all, but I wanted to. I wanted to do anything to please you. When you pushed against me, you pinched the places that you’d whipped, made them hurt more. It only made me hotter.”

His jaw flexed, but she wasn’t done.

“It freaked me out,” she admitted. “But you dream what you dream. And it wasn’t an incest thing, because Cass and I…we were just…we were both there to serve Masters. A bond no less strong than blood. It was all about serving a Master. Serving you, and them. I know how it works, Ben. The women…Dana, Cass, Rachel, Savannah. You play together, you share together, but each woman belongs to only one of you, her soul all his. I’m that person for you, Ben. I know it. I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you, and it’s only gotten stronger. Everything I am tells me I can handle whatever kind of Master you are.”

Boy, she’d overplayed that hand, big time, but she’d crested the hill and rushed down it, unable to stop the coaster that was her mouth. His expression had shuttered, of course. Guys never liked hearing shit like this, but she didn’t care. “Take me to a club,” she said. “Let me prove it to you.”

“That’s a weird dream for a kid to have,” he said in a flat tone.

“All teenagers have sex dreams. I’m not ashamed of them. Then or now. Lucas is my sister’s husband, not my father. Any red-blooded woman who had to sleep in a room near the two of them, hearing the things he could do to a woman, no matter how much Cass tried to muffle it, would get turned-on by him.”

His brow rose, but his mouth also tightened, as if he didn’t particularly care to hear her appraisal of his CFO. Of course, the idea of him being jealous was probably wishful thinking on her part. Since it was obvious he’d let go of the leash he’d picked up for far too short a time, she wriggled into her panties and the skirt. Retrieved her heels. That put her within a couple steps of him. Stepping into the shoes, she ran her fingers through her hair, tossed it back.

“I was top of my class, won a full scholarship to college, and I’m damn good at what I do. And I’m only going to get better at it. I’ll pay my taxes, pull my weight, and I’ve never avoided my responsibilities. So…” Glad she was back in her heels, reclaiming the sexual advantage they gave her, she took a step toward him, cocked a hip, drawing his attention to the angle of the body he’d just sampled. “I can be as deviant and twisted as I want, as long as I’m not hurting anyone. The only one craving pain is me. From you.”

He stepped away from the door, right up to her, her breasts brushing his chest. His mouth was thin and tight. Everything in her screamed she should give way before that Master’s stare, that alpha demand for submission, but she couldn’t, no matter how everything in her wanted to do it, no matter her stomach was jumping hurdles like mountains.

“Don’t.” As he caught her chin, his fingers pressed against that mark he’d left on her throat, the impression of his teeth, the suction of his heated mouth. “Don’t try to act more experienced than you are. I know you’re scared to death and putting on a brave face.”

“So?” She swallowed against his touch. “I want you, Ben. I know you want me.” She dared herself, closing her hand over the front of his slacks.

He caught her wrist immediately, but she’d tightened her grip, feeling the shape and weight of him. Holy God. He really was…enormous. Her gaze flicked back up to his face. She saw a coldness there that would have sent an icy shiver through her if not for that overwhelming heat in her hand.

“Let go of me.”

“Let your slave give you release. Let me suck on you, bring you to climax.”

“For Chrissakes, Marcie. I’m a decade older than you.” He pushed her away.

“Nine years. Not so much difference.”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

“Jon says you have the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old, so I’m technically older.”

“Jon is a New Age geek…ass,” Ben retorted.

They both paused. Marcie blinked. Her lips curved, tremulously. Ben swore, but his own mouth twisted wryly. “Fuck, this is a mess.”

Not from where she was standing, but she stayed quiet, recognizing the turning point where the negotiator had to stand back and let the client argue with himself, reach the appropriate conclusion. At least she hoped that was what he was doing.

“No more of this shit at the office,” he told her sternly. “I mean it, Marcie. You won’t be doing your internship here if you keep pushing it.”