Master M Read Online Free PDF Page B

visitors, a small gold brooch in the shape of a whip the only thing that gave any indication as to who they were. As relaxed as the guests, the staff gave off an air of comfort, safety and that they were there for anyone should they be needed. Their presence wasn’t uncomfortable—far from it, they blended well with the guests—there, but not seen as much as they might be if they were in uniform. Unobtrusive, that’s what they were.
    Mr. M had picked the ideal set of employees.
    He’d stood at the front door the whole night, greeting people in a way that showed he wasn’t about to suffer fools gladly. Yet at the same time he’d been welcoming—but that would change if anyone caused trouble. Any wrong move and people would be asked to leave. The contracts that were signed prior to the opening had clear rules. Marshall Cottage wasn’t a place you wanted to be if you were intent on riding the train of disrespect.
    It was the perfect balance, this vast mansion that housed many people who enjoyed BDSM and who just wanted a secure place to act out their fantasies and desires.
    “It went well, didn’t it?” he asked me after the last staff member had gone home.
    We stood in the foyer side by side, staring over at the grandfather clock.
    “It couldn’t have gone better.” I smiled. Sighed, content.
    “It wouldn’t have gone so well had you not been with me,” he said.
    I blushed. Watched the pendulum swaying. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve had a place like this in mind for a long time. I just happened to be around at the point where you’d gathered all the information you needed to create such heaven.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that.” He paused. Scrubbed his chin. “Yes, it would have gone well whether you were here or not, but for me personally… Had you not been here, I wouldn’t have been so calm. It wouldn’t have felt so…right.”
    I lowered my head, unsure what to do next. What was he saying? Yes, he’d admitted he wanted me as his forever sub, but we’d been so embroiled in getting Marshall Cottage up and running that we hadn’t touched on the subject since.
    “I’ve discovered,” he said, “that my life would be quite…wrong without you in it.”
    “I see,” I said, stealing his usual response.
    “No, I don’t think you do. Not really.”
    I turned my head a bit so I could look up at him from beneath my lashes. He was staring back at me, which gave me quite a surprise as I’d assumed he’d been watching the clock. I blushed harder, suddenly lost in unsteady emotions, ones that filled my head with cotton wool.
    “I’m in love with you.” He reached out, took my hand. Laced his fingers with mine.
    My insides churned in that way they did when he touched me or looked at me with a certain expression. “I…”
    “You don’t have to say the same back to me.” He smiled gently. “I understand if you need more time.”
    The grandfather clock seemed to tick louder.
    “I don’t need more time,” I said, pressing into his side. “Sir?” I couldn’t see his face through the mist of tears. “All I need is you.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Now
     
    “I think you have a bit of that tunnel vision you mentioned,” I said. “Where you said something becomes so important that you fail to see it any other way. I don’t need more time to recover. Sir, all I need is you.”
    He smiled, hopefully transported back into the past as I had been. We had so many precious memories that I wondered if there would ever come a time when we’d forget some, new ones being crammed in and ejecting the old. And if they did disappear, maybe they would only be gone for a little while. A scent, a visual, some kind of trigger would bring them back. At least I hoped so.
    He rose, sitting up and giving me a look that promised me I’d get what I needed. The scent of him washed over me—he must have showered while I slept—the sharp tang of lemons and bergamot. The smell of a summer evening when the