Page 35 of Savage Game
She stared down at her naked body. Actually, now that she was less stressed, and Master took care of her and made sure she ate healthy meals, she was filling out.
Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. In the exact same way a corset molded a person’s figure, Byron Nolan was molding her. Her temper rose. He might not be as cruel and callous as Liam and Michael, but he was manipulating her. Or wasn’t he?
Her thoughts muddled and she sank on the bed beside the corset. The mattress dipped and the thong slid to the floor. She didn’t care. Charlotte scuttled back and pulled up her knees. With her arms around her shins, she rested her chin on her bent legs and tried to think.
She was still in the same position and her mind was equally stuck when Master came looking for her at a quarter past eight.
“Kittycat?” Worry made his voice drop an octave. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong? Are you all right?”
“Uhuh.” The sound she made was neither a confirmation nor a rebuttal. Truth be told, she didn’t understand what was wrong with her today.
He crossed the room and pressed his hand against her forehead.
She twisted away from him and snapped, “I don’t have a fever.”
His brows knitted together, and his beautiful eyes darkened, but Charlotte wasn’t in a mood to be considerate, to practice restraint, or to heed self-preservation. “Just leave me alone.”
“Excuse me?” Iron fingers gripped her chin.
She blinked and helplessly stared up into his face.
No, I am not helpless!
She released the hold on her legs and shackled his wrists.
His jaw flexed and he dropped his eyes to her hands. “Let go, kitten. Lace your hands behind your head.”
“No.”
His mouth tightened, and his face grew colder than she thought possible. Gone was the indulgent lover and the caring Master, this was the ruthless businessman, who acquired and dismantled companies, fired people, and bought women for his enjoyment.
Her anger kept escalating, and her blood roared in her ears like a fire. It burned a path through her body and into her soul, eating and licking everything in its way.
He said something, but she couldn’t hear him above the all-consuming rage.
Somehow, he broke her hold on his wrists and took her by the shoulders. Gave her a gentle shake. “Charlotte! Do. You. Need. Your. Safeword?”
Safeword?
Uncomprehending, she blinked and tried to get her head straight.
What’s happening to me?
She shook her head, not in denial but to clear her mind. The fog didn’t want to recede.
“Charlotte.”
Why isn’t he calling me Kittycat? And why are my cheeks wet?
He hoisted her from the bed, reversed their positions, and sat down with her perched on his thighs.
She didn’t want to be on his lap, did she?
But her hands curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, and she snuggled her face in the crook of his neck. Shame and confusion washed over her, but when she opened her mouth to apologize, nothing came out.
He stroked her hair. “I think you’re experiencing subdrop. How long have you been unsettled like this? What did I miss?”
She sniffled, hiccupped, and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’m not sure. I woke up like this, I think.”
