Master No (Masters and Mercenaries, #9)(55)

She had to think to remember exactly what he’d asked her. He’d asked if there had been anyone who got handsy with her. “One doctor. He was slightly older than me. He thought he knew a lot. One particularly long night he showed up on my doorstep. He said he wanted to talk to me about the new shipment of supplies. I let him in.”

She felt his palm cup one of her cheeks. “Did he attack you?”

“He was aggressive. Said something about how much I could obviously use a good lay. Then I explained that he could use a good urologist and kicked his balls into his body cavity,” she admitted. “The sad thing was we didn’t have a urologist on staff. I had to fix the jerk. Sometimes it’s hard to be a doctor.”

He stopped and she was pleased with the deep chuckle that came from his chest. “Do you want more? I didn’t give you a prescribed amount and I’m satisfied with your answers, but I can also smell your arousal. Do you want more?”

“God, yes.”

“Then get on the bed and let me tie you down,” he commanded in that dark chocolate voice of his. “I’ll give you what you want as long as you play my games.”

“Games?” She could play some games with the gorgeous Master T. Lots of games. Games that involved his mouth and hands and lovely parts of the man she hadn’t explored at this point.

His hand caressed up and down the length of her spine, reminding her of what he’d done. Every inch of her skin felt sensitized to this man’s touch. “Sure. Pleasure for information. I want to know more about you. I know you would rather we simply enjoyed each other’s bodies, but I don’t play that way. I want to know you. I want to know your history, how your mind works. So please me and I’ll pleasure you.”

That was a bargain she was perfectly willing to make.





As Faith climbed onto the bed, Ten was well aware of what a bastard son of a bitch he was. Let’s play a game? Pleasure for information? It wasn’t a game for Faith, not really. She was trying to please him because he’d told her lie after lie.

Would she believe him for a second if he explained that giving him this information would help him protect her? Fuck no. She was a smart girl, his Faith.

Not his. Never his. The best he could hope to get out of this was to be the bastard who left her one morning because he’d gotten all the information he needed out of her. If he was lucky, she would think he was an * who used her for sex and then dumped her. If he screwed up, she would figure out how bent his soul was and she would hate him for the rest of her life.

God, he didn’t want her to hate him.

“Like this?” Her voice was soft as she looked up at him.

She was his wet dream, lying on the bed like she’d been placed there with no thought beyond his pleasure. He could definitely see why this called to Tag. A smart woman, strong and secure in herself, and she was submitting to him and only him. It made a man feel about ten feet tall.

And as small as a little piece of shit because he was going to damage that lovely security.

“Yes,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her curves. Faith was built on generous lines. Her breasts were a sweet handful, her waist flaring into hips he could hold on to, and a truly spectacular ass. Round and juicy, those cheeks were meant to catch a man’s eye. His eye. He kind of wanted everyone else to keep their damn eyes to themselves.

Would she understand if he stopped everything right this instant and explained what he was doing and why? Would she forgive him? Or would he be in need of a good urologist like that f*cker who’d tried to hurt her?

She would choose her father. She would choose her family. She would choose anyone but him. If there was one thing he knew in the world, it was that truth.

The least he could do was give her pleasure, give her his true and honest praise. “You’re beautiful, Faith. You might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her lips curled up. “Thank you, Master. You make me feel that way.”

She didn’t argue with him. She took his words as the gift they were. It made him like her even more. He could look at her all day. He liked the low light of the room. It made everything seem slightly unreal, like if he could simply keep his eyes on her, he might be able to forget he was here to do anything but make love to her.

He grasped the rope and began working it around her wrists. It was better this way. She wouldn’t be able to touch him. There would be distance between them. He could still give her everything she needed, but he wouldn’t have her arms around him. He wouldn’t wake up with her tangled around his body like a vine climbing up a tree.

He would be in control and that would remind him of what he needed to do.

“So you worked with this man for six months?” The idea of some doctor pawing her in the middle of the f*cking jungle made him want to wrap his hands around the *’s throat. “Where was your bodyguard?”

She wasn’t giving him a name so he had to figure out a way to narrow the time frame down. If he asked again for a specific name, she might grow wary—might think he was going to do something he shouldn’t. He was really trying to figure out who would potentially want to hurt her. If that near assassination had been about a pissed-off rejected suitor, he could at least handle the problem for her.

It was becoming harder and harder for him to buy that she was really dirty. He might be an idiot, but he had to admit to himself that she was potentially innocent in all of this.