Page 22 of Mastered By Lust

“Am I making you feel that you shouldn’t?”

“No, not you.” My stepfather’s voice echoes in my head, telling me I’m no good, that if some guy rapes me, it’s my fault because of what I’m wearing. “It’s how I was raised, I guess.”

“I hope you’ll let go of those limiting beliefs. In our relationship, it’s okay to fantasize. And it’s more than okay to act on those fantasies when all parties are safe and give consent.”

“Like that line in the Low Vice paperwork.Safe, sane, consensual.”

“Exactly.” Keeping his hand on my leg, he threads his fingers with mine. “Although I’d add,and it makes Leah happyto that precept.”

My heart. It does a little pirouette in my chest and slowly falls into a dramatic swoon. No boyfriend has made my happiness his priority before. Maybe this is an older guy thing. No…it’s aGagething. How did I get so lucky?

Gage navigates us onto Caro Boulevard, but he doesn’t turn off when we reach his building.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“For a drive.”

“Is this where I discover that you’re a serial killer? All that perfection is just a mask?”

“It’s most certainly a mask.” He lets go of my hand to shift the car into a higher gear. Then he returns his hand to my knee, bunching the fabric of my dress to start dragging it upward. He keeps his eyes on the road the entire time. “But I’m not a serial killer, little girl. I do, however, have some depraved leanings. Take off your panties.”

“Right now?” I stare at his profile, incredulous.

“Right now.”

I look out the car windows. Downtown San Esteban is busy, bright with lights and pedestrians, the streets full of cars. With all this light pollution, visibility isn’t hampered in the slightest.

“Don’t hesitate,” Gage says. “Do what I asked. It will please me, and you’ll receive a nice reward if you behave like the good girl I know you are.”

I do want to please him. Face burning at the thought of someone driving past us and seeing, I reach beneath my dress. I lift my hips as much as the seatbelt will allow, and tug down my underwear.

He holds out his palm, wordlessly asking me to surrender the lacy fabric.

I hand them over, horrified when he brings them to his nose and inhales.

“You smell amazing.” He tucks the underwear into his jacket pocket. “These belong to me now.”

“Hey, that’s stealing.” There’s no real protest in my words, though. If he wants them that bad, for whatever pervy reasons, he can have them.

“How about I give you an underwear allowance, hmm, sweetheart?”

“Sure, okay, Dad.”

He laughs. He’s usually so reserved, his bark of laughter surprises me.

Returning his hand to my thigh, he says, “You remember your safe word?”

“Yes,red.” We’re in the car. Why is he asking me about my safe word? Oh. Wait a second. Nervous excitement pools in my belly. What does he have in mind? “Why are you asking? Whatever you’re going to do next might need asafe word?”

“It won’t hurt, baby doll. But you might be shy or uncomfortable. You can use your safe word for all sorts of things.” He slides his hand higher up my thigh. Surely he isn’t?—

He makes contact with my pussy, his fingers sliding through my arousal.

“Oh.” I sigh and scoot forward to give him better access. “That feels good.”

His fingertips gather my slickness and spread it to my clit, sending arrows of sweet electricity throughout my body. The city moves past us as he drives down Caro. I’m barely aware, although a part of me is shrinking back, afraid that someone will see me in the throes of pleasure.

Gage stops at a red light. He plunges a finger inside me. I brace my feet on the floor boards and lift my hips, seeking more.

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