Page 35 of Elicit (Decadence After Dark)

“Good to know. I want to please my new Master.”

“I’m not your Master,” he states. “That term is earned, not taken. And I haven’t earned anything yet. I do want your obedience.” He runs his fingertip around my lips. “But you’ll decide if and when you become my submissive.”

I’m rendered speechless. He’s givingmethe choice? “For now, we’ll just play. You’ll learn to trust me. And then we’ll see how far we can fly.”

I simply nod because words escape me.

“Good.” He presses a soft, tantalizing kiss on my mouth before he pulls me up. “This is just the beginning.” He unties my hands and then redresses me in the wrinkled shirt. “One day soon, I’m going to steal you away, tie you up, and do whatever I damn well please with you,” he rasps in my ear, sending shivers right down my spine. Delicious, titillating, arousing shivers. How does he do that? If any other man said those words, I’d shudder with fear, not excitement. But he excites me. And that does scare me. It also makes me curious. Curious to see what else he’s capable of.

I think I’m about to find out if curiosity really did kill the cat.

“There’s something for you upstairs. Contrary to what you may believe, I came into your room for another reason besides sex.”

“I didn’t think anything besides sex existed.”

“There does. It just runs a very distant second.” He tucks some of my damp hair behind each ear at the same time, then brushes his hands lightly down my neck and arms, almost affectionately. Almostlovingly. Why does he touch me like that?

I’m nothing. No one.

“What is it?” I wonder aloud.

“You’re just going to have to go upstairs and find out.” Jett smiles warmly. “You’ll have to tell me if you like it.” He helps me off the desk. “I have some things to tend to. Go play with your new toy.” He spanks my ass, and I jump. “You were just promoted to elite status.”

“What does that mean?” I cock my head.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he muses, and that devilish glare returns. “Now go.”

“Yes, Jett.”

I stare at the expensive, intricate, intimidating camera. That’s my new toy. I know I told Jett I was interested in photography, and he wants each of us to have a hobby and be well-rounded, but what the heck am I supposed to do with this thing? I have no idea how it works, and frankly, I’m scared to touch it for fear of breaking it. So I’ve just been staring at it the last few days, trying to decode the instructions. He couldn’t have gotten me something smaller? A point and shoot maybe? A camera with fewer settings and buttons and lenses. Why are there three lenses? It’s all completely overwhelming, and it makes me want to cry.

I abruptly hear a loud, frustrated sigh in the large desolate library. I thought I was alone. I escaped in here hoping a change of scenery would jog my comprehension. Not so much.

I get up and begin to search. Jett has the room set up like a real library, with desks and computers and rows of bookshelves. There are even reading nooks with plush red velvet chairs and Tiffany lamps, which is where I find Jenna, a.k.a. Spice, hiding.

She looks as frustrated as I do.

“Why did I decide to learn French?” She looks up at me from her odd position in the chair and scowls. She’s sprawled out over the armrests with one leg draped over the back.

“Son langage d’amour?” I reply.

She bounds up. “You speak French!”

“Oui.”

“Can you help me?” she pleads with her big green eyes. Jenna is young. Just nineteen. Adorable, bubbly, and so full of spirit. As much as I like being around her, I’m sad this is her life. That she has to sell herself to random men to survive when it’s plain to see she has so much potential. I wish I could rescue her. Save her from horrors that may be yet to come. I wouldn’t wish my existence on a snake. And thinking about this vivacious girl living through a quarter of the atrocities I have breaks my heart.

“Of course, I’ll help you.” How could I say no when an overwhelming protectiveness takes over.

“Thank you! Jett expects me to have a full conversation with him next week, and I’m shitting myself because I can barely string two sentences together. I have the basics, and I listen to the audio teachers but actually conversing . . .” She turns pale.

“Don’t worry. Practice makes perfect. You’ll be conversing beautifully in no time.”

“I’m going to need a lot of practice.” She curls her lip sardonically.

“I have complete faith in you. If you can live in this house and survive the way you do, you can be anyone and do anything.”

“You really think so?”

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