Marrying the Master Read Online Free PDF

Volare was her family.
    “Are
you sure you can go through with this, though?”
    Lola
looked at her friend’s face and saw only compassion. Stella was a total
bleeding heart, unable to turn away from anyone in any kind of pain. It was one
of the things Lola admired about her friend, and one of the things she knew the
sheikh had fallen for.
    So
it was pointless to try to hide from Stella what she was really feeling. In the
twenty-four hours since Roman had dropped this bomb on her, Lola had relived
everything about the past eight years, since the day she’d met Roman, and she
had come to the conclusion that she’d never completely gotten over him. Sure,
she’d gotten over her initial infatuation, the kind of thing that happens when
you’re young and everything’s going wrong and you latch on to the one steady
person in your life. But God, she wanted him.
    Even
when she was young, Lola wasn’t totally stupid. When Lola realized she was
hopelessly infatuated with Roman and that nothing would ever come of it, she’d
pulled away to protect herself. They’d pursued separate lives in the city, and
a few years later neither of them had been prepared to run into each other at a
BDSM club. Lola had been there checking out the scene, and Roman had been there
checking out the competition.
    In
short order, Roman had her working for him at Volare.
    It
took only a few more months for Lola to realize that her original infatuation
hadn’t ever quite gone away. But she wasn’t the scared, vulnerable young woman
who’d just lost her remaining immediate family any longer, and so now she
thought it was just that she wanted Roman.
    Physically.
    She
wanted Roman Casta more than she’d ever wanted anything. Even just for one
night. Even just a taste. Even while their
relationship matured, even while they became close friends, even while they
worked together every day.
    But
the man wouldn’t even look at her. It had been humiliating. Heartbreaking.
    And
she’d just had to get used to it.
    And
now the prospect of having to relive all of that, daily, while they pretended
to be in love? While they pretended to be man and wife? While they pretended…
    “Ugh,”
Lola said, covering her face.
    “You’ve
had a really hard time since Ben,” Stella said, and nudged her friend with the
cold ice cream tub.
    “You
don’t know the half of it.”
    It was
true—Lola had retreated into herself. It had been so humiliating: one of
the few men she’d ever let dominate her turned out to have a thing with his
ex-wife on the side, for months . She
hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone about it. She couldn’t face the vulnerability.
    “Has
there been anyone since?” Stella asked.
    “No,”
Lola said. “Not worth mentioning. I tried, but…”
    Stella’s
eyes widened. “Nothing?”
    “Nothing.”
    Lola
didn’t even tell her the worst part: she hadn’t even been able to orgasm with
anyone since Ben. Mistress of a sex club who couldn’t come with a partner:
ironic, and not in a good way. And she hadn’t even been able to think about submitting.
    A
terrible thought struck her. “Oh shit, I’ll have to pretend to be his submissive.”
    “Well,
yeah. Master Roman. He’s not a
switch, is he?”
    “No,”
Lola said, laughing despite herself. “Most definitely not.”
    “Ok,
so in summary: the guy you’ve been crazy about for almost ten years is now
going to pretend to be your Dom husband, and you have to play along while not losing
your mind, or the club is screwed?”
    “That’s
about right, although I dispute the ‘crazy for’ label.”
    “Whatever,”
Stella rolled her eyes. “I should have brought you Valium instead of ice
cream.”
    Lola
laughed softly, and wiped away a tear. Now that she was talking about it, all
of her emotions were coming to the surface. She was really, truly scared.
“Seriously, Stella, I don’t know if I can do this right now.”
    “Look
at it this way: if after all this you still feel like he doesn’t