Page 18 of Slave

And then I waited.

He didn’t speak for the longest time, but when he did, it wasn’t in the tone I’d expected. “Get up, Brianna.” I stood. “Have a seat,” he said motioning beside him.

Was this where he told me he was taking me back to Ian?

“Look at me, please,” he said.

I wasn’t about to disobey him again. And then he smiled. My Master smiled at me. There was no hint of anger in his eyes.

His voice was harsher when he spoke again, and the suddenness of it made me jump. “You are not to come into my bedroom again without permission. Do you understand?”

I lowered my head. “Yes, Master.”

“No,” he said, grabbing my chin in his hand. “Don’t turn away from me.”

I met his eyes again, fearing what I’d see. What I saw startled me. There was confusion in them and . . . worry? But why would my Master be worried?

Dropping his hand back in his lap, he said, “We need to talk.”

This was it. I knew it. He was taking me back or sending me away. “Please, Master. I’ll do better, I promise.”

“Stop.” His tone was firm and brooked no argument. I stopped talking.

I watched as he rubbed his temple with his right hand before sighing. He was clearly frustrated, and it was my fault.

Another apology was on my tongue again when he asked, “Brianna, why did you come into my room this morning?”

Starting to look down, I changed my mind when I saw the scowl forming on his face. “I’m—”

“And do not say you’re sorry, Brianna. Just tell me what you were thinking.”

“I wanted to make you happy,” I whispered. “You’ve been very nice to me, Master, and I wanted to say thank-you.” I had to curb the impulse to lower my head. It would only make him angry.

His left hand came up to run through his hair. “You did it to say thank-you?” He shook his head, clearly not liking my answer.

“I’m so—”

“Brianna,” he snapped. “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I will punish you, do you understand?”

I knew better than to answer. Instead, I just nodded.

Standing, he walked to the other side of the room. Looking out at the Minneapolis skyline, he had his back to me. “You could have just said thank-you. That would have been sufficient.”

A slight sound left my lips before I caught it. He turned to look at me, waiting for me to slip up and say I’m sorry. I pressed my lips together instead, willing myself not to speak.

He seemed satisfied I wasn’t going to say anything, because the side of his mouth pulled up in a small smile. I suddenly felt shy, which made no sense to me.

And then my Master did something totally unexpected. He walked to me and knelt down to bring himself to my eye level. “Is it what you wanted, Brianna?”

The confusion was back. “I don’t understand, Master.”

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Once again, I had to press my lips tightly together and not to utter an apology.

My Master sat back on his heels and brushed the hair away from my face. His touch felt good, comforting. “I want you to feel safe here. This is your home.”

I nodded, but even I knew it was weak. What he was saying didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t have a home, just a place.

His voice brought me back to the present. “Would you like to spend the day with me, Brianna?”

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