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looking at me turn you on?”
    Chastity swallowed hard. She felt so unnerved it didn’t even occur to her to lie. “Yes.”
    The masked man stepped through the door, closing it behind him.
    He stopped beside the chair closest to the door.
    “I will reward your honesty with information. That device is our own little variation of a St. Andrew’s Cross.” Information? Chastity had no more of that commodity now than when she had first stepped into the club.
    Apparently he read her confusion. “You will note the handcuffs at the top and leg shackles at the bottom. In the upright position you see 30
    Morgan Ashbury
    now, you would be bound to the device, hand and foot, held immobile for whatever pleasure your master chose to take from your body.
    Quite often that pleasure is derived from the use of a flail or a riding crop, like the one I have in my hand, here.” He swished it through the air and the light whistling sound it made coursed another shiver down her spine. “Our little twist on this device allows it to change the angle at which you are held. Horizontal, and with pieces of the top and bottom crossbars removed, it leaves your pussy, ass and mouth easily accessible to your master’s cock—or however many cocks your master decides you will service.”
    The pictures his matter-of-fact explanation brought to mind had morphed from the mere pencil drawings of her imagination to IMAX
    images in 3-D. Her nipples hardened and her pussy released moisture.
    She’d never been so aroused in her life. The butterflies in her belly danced to the rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. In the face of this utter awakening of her body, she could only ask one question.
    “Who are you?”
    He stepped closer, his eyes, a silver-grey she saw now, freezing her in place. His gaze raked her, resting for a few moments on her traitorous nipples, then down, focusing on her mound. She felt naked, as if he could actually see her pussy through her clothes. His perusal aroused, but his response stunned.
    “I’m your master.”

    Reckless Abandon
    31

Chapter 4
    “My…”
    Jordan wanted to smile at the look of shock on her face, but dared not. Instead, he walked back to one of the chairs, stood behind it.
    “You seemed very insistent on gaining entry. This is a private club, and we exist for a reason. Why are you here alone, if not to find a master?”
    “I came here because I needed—hell, I don’t know what I needed.” She blew out a breath and before his eyes seemed to totally deflate.
    “Sit down.”
    Jordan couldn’t prevent the sympathy that welled up inside him.
    He’d always thought of Chastity as being a snob, but he possessed enough self-awareness to know that came as much from his own inbred resentment of anyone who’d been born rich as from any impression she may have given.
    When Chastity sat, he followed suit.
    “This is my club. I’m the one who allowed you admittance. I have my reasons for that, which I will share with you shortly. Because this is my club, I know you’ve never been here before. Tell me why you’ve come.”
    Jordan had good people sense and that sense quivered with awareness. He’d bet Chastity had no idea her emotions reflected in the expressions chasing across her face. She looked like a woman on the edge.
    “I’d rather not.”
    “Then you need to leave. And don’t come back.” 32
    Morgan Ashbury
    Clearly that wasn’t what she thought he’d say. Though he didn’t need to, he gave her a bit of an explanation.
    “As your master, I am responsible for you. Everything about you is my concern. However, if you’re not willing to meet me halfway by answering my questions, I have nothing to offer you. Did you come here tonight on a lark? Or do you have a deeper need?”
    “Oh, God.”
    A lone tear tracked down her face, more heart-squeezing to watch than if she’d plunged into abject weeping.
    “I don’t want to leave.” Her confession came out a bare whisper.
    “Then talk to me.