Page 33 of Married to My Master

But, still, he couldn't bring himself to leave her. Not just like that, and especially not after their moment on the office floor. Goddamn that had been amazing, too. The softness of her skin, the way her teeth felt, the way her fingernails had grated across his skin. There were so many things he still wanted to do with her and so many things he could do to her. Just the thought of her smell filling his nose, of the way she cried out for more when he spanked her ass, was thrilling.

He readjusted himself in his trousers, pushing his erection down to a more comfortable position. All these memories and fantasies had started to get to him, especially now that the liquor was infiltrating his system.

And it wasn't just about the sex. It was the way she looked at him, too, and the way she made him laugh. The way she could cut to his core. Love and hate were sometimes the flip-side of the same coin, his mother had always said. “The ones who love you the most are the ones who hurt you the most.” Emily definitely had the second part down, that was for sure. He couldn't help but think that she had the first part, as well. It felt like she did.

Why would she care about him? That was just crazy. He wiped a hand down his face and took another drink of liquor, grumbling at his own insanity. She was just faking it, using some old tricks she must have picked up from her mother. She was the enemy, and had just destroyed another cache of evidence he'd managed to discover.

She didn't love him, and he didn't love her. How could he? She was his captive, not his fucking soulmate!

This was just pure lust, a product from his long dry spell and that tight body of hers. What had happened in the office was either a fluke, or part of a carefully calculated plan on her part. Either way, it was nice, but it wasn't a sign of something bigger.

Did he believe her about her wanting to take down the company? Yes, he thought he did. But, how? Letting her go back to work, to try and ferret out the corruption on her own, wasn't going to work. That wasn't an option.

He took another pull off the whiskey bottle, then pushed it aside as he choked down the burning liquor. He'd figure out a way to use her to bring the company down. He knew there was a way. He just hadn't quite figured it out yet. And he couldn't quit until he figured out a way to manage it.

Chapter Fifteen

Dane

He went back into the closet, scissors in hand. He breathed heavily as he watched her twist and turn in the dining room chair, her body trying to get comfortable. Outside the closet, the distant sound of the bath filling with water could be heard in the bathroom.

“Dane?” she asked. “Sir?”

“Yeah,” he answered, as he knelt down beside her and began cutting her free.

“Are you,” she began, before trailing off. “Are you letting me go, sir?”

He shook his head, then remembered she had a blindfold on. “No,” he said. “Just moving you. I don't think you deserve the chair.”

She nodded, but didn't reply. She just watched him slice free her bonds and remove the blindfold. He took up the chain, which was still attached to the dog collar around her neck, and led her back to the bathroom. The tub was half full already.

Chain still firmly gripped, he sat down on the edge of the tub and dipped his hand into it to check the temperature. It was hot, but not scalding. Perfect. He grabbed one of the bottles of bubble bath and poured a capful beneath the diminutive waterfall coming from the faucet and took a deep breath of the soothing lavender.

“A bubble bath, sir?” Emily asked, uncertainty mixed with trepidation heavy in her voice.

“Heat's good for the soul,” Dane said after a while, his voice almost meditative. He turned back to her and shrugged. “So are bubbles, I guess.”

She smiled. “Yes, sir, I suppose,” she agreed.

He got up from the edge of the tub and walked over to her still naked form. He desperately wanted to strip and join her in the bath, but he didn't want this to be about him. It needed to be about her. It was all about Emily. He reached up and began to work at the dog collar, removing it and tossing it aside.

She absently rubbed her neck where the metal had worried away at her skin. “What now?” she asked, as he went back over and turned the water off.

He held his hand out to her in offering. “Now, we bathe you,” he replied.

She smiled and glanced away, seeming almost embarrassed by the attention. She took his hand, though, and Dane pulled her over to the tub. He held her hand as she gingerly stepped in, then sank down below the foamy, billowy piles of suds. Emily sighed as she submerged into the steaming water, a smile growing on her face as she relaxed back into the heat.

“Now, let's try this again,” Dane said, his voice soothing and honest. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he'd tried to bathe her, in his first failed overture. Now, after all they'd been through, particularly their bout of rough love on the office floor, he hoped this second attempt would be more fruitful.

She murmured appreciatively as he soaped the loofah again and began to soap first her arms, then her shoulders and back. “That feels wonderful,” she practically purred, lying back in the tub, her lips slightly parted, as he gently soaped and rinsed her arms again.

Dane smiled to himself. Not because he thought his plan was working, but because he was genuinely making her feel good and relaxed. Something about watching her face change from slight apprehension to one of true pleasure lit a small candle in his soul. It made him remember he wasn't a completely monstrous psychopath. Maybe it was doing the same for her.

He continued bathing her in silence, then, as the water began to cool, he helped her step out of the bathtub. Her body glistened with water as he started the shower to help her rinse off. He couldn't keep his eyes off her tiny frame as she stepped into the stall.

As she passed by, she gave him a quick glance with one eyebrow cocked, as if to ask why he wasn't joining her.

He just looked away and crossed his arms.

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