Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(68)

“Me?” Max scowled at Alastair. “She likes you better. I knew it.”

When Uzuri’s mouth dropped open in dismay, Holt chuckled. His sweet friend had a tender heart—and a huge phobia about being rude. He bent down to whisper in her ear, “Max is pulling your chain, sweets. Teach him a lesson and tell him he can’t talk.”

Zuri’s shoulders straightened. “Max, you may not speak the remainder of this time. Go with Holt. Now.”

After shooting Holt a laughing look that promised retribution, the Dom sketched a salute of silent obedience to his queen.

“My empress, what is your desire?” Holt asked Josie.

Her lovely green eyes showed her discomfort. She’d been well into the submissive mindset, and now Z had jerked her out of her comfort zone. The next hour should be interesting for both of them.

Josie swallowed. “Well, I’d like an iced tea. And would you—” She broke off and firmed her jaw. “You may have a beer for yourself if you are quick about it.”

“You are most generous, my empress.” He gave her a polite bow and headed off with Max to the bar.

Max was laughing as he said under his breath, “Z sure put a damper on the festivities.”

Looking around, Holt saw that most submissives were sitting in chairs, uncomfortable and uncertain. A few were grinning widely, snapping out orders.

Overhearing Max’s comment, Z turned from the bar with an unperturbed smile. “Would you believe the Romans did this for a week? Of course, the servants weren’t slaves by choice, so for them, Saturnalia provided a welcome break.”

After giving Andrea the drink orders, Holt asked Z. “Aside from honoring tradition, was there another reason to the power exchange?” Z’s games often held an underlying lesson.

Cullen set the beers on the wooden bar top. “It forces people to see what the other side feels like.”

“Exactly.” Z tilted his head. “A few members might well discover they prefer the other role. Or both roles. The rest, whether Dominant or submissive, will be unsettled by the power exchange.”

Ah-hah. That was the reason. “And they’ll resume their places with fresh appreciation for being in the role where they belong.”

“Exactly.”

Years ago, while training as a Dom, Holt tried out being a bottom. It’d given him a unique perspective of what he was asking of a submissive. Now that he’d been a Dom for a decade or so, switching roles was…interesting.

He didn’t mind serving others, or he wouldn’t be in a health occupation. Taking orders at work rarely bothered him…as long as he agreed. In a sexual context? He liked making a woman happy…but it would be in his time and in his way. He didn’t take orders at all in bed.

After handing out drinks, he studied his little submissive. Perhaps the most difficult part of this role reversal was seeing Josie’s discomfort.

But since this was a lesson, he’d do his part. He knelt. “My empress, would you like me to feed you—or rub your back? Or your feet? Or might I drink my beer?”


Josie closed her eyes in frustration as Holt tossed out a list of choices for her to select. Honestly, why was this so hard? She made decisions for herself all the time. And for Carson, too, although it’d been easy when he was younger.

But making decisions for another adult? Choosing what another person should do or might want? Especially for a…a person she was in some sort of a kinky relationship with? She hated it.

Tonight was worse. The questions Holt had asked niggled in her head. Maybe she should pick something he hadn’t offered. Tell him to do something else for her. Unfortunately, her mind was blank when it came to demanding service from someone.

Woman-up, Empress. But…what would Holt prefer to do? She wasn’t sure. With an effort, she made her voice firm. “Rub my back.”

How did he make everything look simple when he was in charge?

He stood behind her, and his massage was awesome, but she couldn’t relax…because she kept wondering if he was getting bored or tired. Maybe she should be bossier and move him to other things. Did he need a drink? Should she tell him to stop and enjoy his beer?

“This is crazy,” she finally burst out.

He lifted his hands, and she twisted to face him.

As he knelt beside her, his gaze was on the ground.

Her stomach flipped over with distress. When he didn’t speak, she realized he was following the strict protocol some Masters and slaves used.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t like this. Please…”

“Time is up, people. Return your power exchange to normal,” Master Z announced. “Then I’d like you to discuss the experience. Did you learn anything new?”

Holt rose. “Subbie, you’re in my seat.”

Sweet relief streamed through her veins. “I don’t like your seat,” she said under her breath as he lifted her to her feet.

“Mmm, I’m rather glad about that.” Rather than letting her kneel, he put an iron-hard arm around her. His hand on her ass pressed her against the thick ridge of his erection. Fisting her hair, he ruthlessly pulled her head back and captured her mouth. His kiss was deliberately hard. Ravaging. Devastating.

Oh, yes. This was what she wanted. As she sagged in his arms, heat spiraled up her spine.