Masks of a Tiger Read Online Free PDF Page A

put his hand up when she would
have interrupted him, and Neeve swallowed the angry
retort instead. Who did he think he was? Ban her from Estelle and little Janus?
He had no right, damn him.
    "However, I'm not
the ogre you think me to be.   I love my
wife, and I want to see her happy. She worries over you, and I do not like it.
So, for everyone's sakes I would suggest you sort that pretty little head of
yours out." He gestured to her wrist, and Neeve fought the urge to hide it behind her back.
    " Grisha can help you with that. Take him up on his
invitation, and you may well surprise yourself." He turned to leave the
room, and Neeve released the breath she'd been
holding with a quiet whoosh. Nathan chuckled.
    "See yourself out,
won't you? I need to see to my sub."
    Neeve hurried to
comply, but not before she caught a glimpse of Estelle, naked and on her knees
in the room that was normally locked from view. Her face lit up when Nathan
walked in and shrugged out of his shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans, and Estelle
licked her lips. Even from the distance Neeve could see
the rapid rise and fall of her friend's chest and the unmistakable sheen of
arousal coloring her skin.
    "Now, greet me
properly, my sweet."
    Neeve left the
house with the image of Estelle's lips wrapped around her husband's cock, and a
vague sense of yearning in her gut.
    ****
    Three days later Neeve clutched the now dry-cleaned tuxedo jacket to her as
though it was a plastic wrapped shield of armor. The flimsy protective cover
stuck to the bare skin of her arm it was draped over, and still, she could swear Grisha's scent remained. It was as though the blasted
man had imprinted himself onto her. She shook her head at her fancy imaginings.
They hadn't even kissed for heaven's sake, and she acted like a love-sick
teenager. Lord only knew what state she would be in if he actually gave her the
fucking she craved.
    Neeve resisted the
urge to fan herself at the sinfully erotic images playing themselves out in her
mind at the mere thought. It was all Estelle's fault, damn her. A phone
call reminding her to check her e-mail had forever burned the images in that
video link into her brain. She'd known of course that Neeve's natural curiosity would get the better off her, and true to form, she couldn't
resist the temptation.
    As appalled as she had
been at the images in front of her, she had sat transfixed, seeing Grisha in action. Utterly focused on the gagged and bound
sub's needs, he had taken the unknown woman to the edge time and time again. By
the time he released her from her bonds she had collapsed into his arms. Neeve's heart had given a suspicious little bump in her
chest witnessing the tender way in which he'd taken care of her until the sub
had had herself back under control. In fact she'd
replayed that part over and over, not quite daring to believe what she was
seeing. It had also left her confused as hell. The woman had come, several
times in fact, yet Grisha hadn't once sought his own
release, despite the obvious and huge erection threatening to burst out of his
jeans.
    What she witnessed
didn't add up with her preconceived notions, and the more links she'd clicked
on, the more confused she'd become. Estelle hadn't pulled her punches. The
websites she'd pointed Neeve to were as informative as they were arousing, until Neeve had
to take matters into her own hands to seek a rather unfulfilling release.
    As she stood outside
Club Ink Neeve had to concede that maybe, there was
more to this whole lark than she had anticipated. Not that she would ever admit
that to anyone. She'd had a hard enough time admitting it to herself. The mark
on her wrist mocked her, and she could hear Grisha's voice in her head.
    I leave marks that fade,
never scar. Marks that tease, and arouse … Marks that will proclaim I own you …
Think on that, sweetheart, next time you stare into the flame.
    How he had known those
words would stop her, she had no idea. But those words had gotten her