Cover artist: Kanaxa
Blurb:
Sanyam Desai is a Dom, a master of his craft. He knows exactly how to make a person beg, and he does it for a living, but he has no idea how to be in love.
Sterling Reynard is in desperate need of manners and someone who cares enough to take him in hand, but he knows he’ll never be loved.
When Sterling’s world crumbles around him, he turns to the one person who’s never asked for anything from him but his trust. But their relationship is built on quicksand, and one careless word will bring the whole thing down.
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Fox’s eyes were open but dreamy and unaware, still lost in his head, and Sanyam dropped a quick kiss on his lips before getting dressed. He folded Fox’s clothes, set them on the arm of the couch, and turned back.
“I would hold you until you return from wherever you are,” he said, undoing Fox’s wrists and lifting his head so he could sit down. “But I think if you came to in my arms, you might bite me.”
Fox turned on his side and rubbed his face against Sanyam’s thigh, heaving a quiet sigh.
Sanyam pushed his hair off his forehead. “See you when you wake up, kit.”
When Fox woke, Sanyam was reading quietly on his phone. He set it down as Fox stirred and lifted his head.
“Welcome back,” Sanyam said, careful not to touch him.
Fox rolled to a sitting position, wincing, and glanced down at himself. His eyes widened at the bloom of bruises that littered his skin, and he touched the one on his hip with a cautious finger.
“How are you feeling?” Sanyam asked.
Fox looked up. “Um. Better.”
“I’ll bet,” Sanyam said, smiling. “That was a pretty spectacular orgasm.”
Confusion flickered across Fox’s face. “I don’t—why can’t I remember?” Gooseflesh pebbled his arms, and he hunched his shoulders, uncertainty in his bearing.
Sanyam held out a hand, but Fox shied away. Sanyam dropped it, keeping his expression neutral.
“Memory loss during sub space is fairly common, especially for newcomers to scening. As you get more comfortable with relinquishing control, you’ll begin to remember more of what we did.”
Fox seemed to suddenly realize he was naked and wrapped his arms around his rib cage, looking for his clothes.
“Behind you,” Sanyam said.
Fox turned and saw his neatly folded clothes, nearly falling in his haste to stand up and get them on. He was wobbly like a newborn foal, and Sanyam tensed, discreetly scooting forward on the couch, ready to catch him.
“Are you all right to drive?” he asked.
Fox dragged his pants on, flinching as he buttoned them. “I’m fine,” he said, but he avoided eye contact as he reached for his shirt.
“What about tomorrow?” Sanyam persisted. “Do you have anyone to stay with you?”
Fox hesitated. “Cricket—no, she has class all day. It’s not a problem.”
“Don’t you have anyone who can come over and help you through the drop?”
“I’ll be fine,” Fox snapped. “How many times do you want me to say it?”
“Part of being a good Dom is making sure my subs are cared for,” Sanyam said evenly. “Be unpleasant all you want; it won’t stop me from helping you through this.”
Fox snarled, lip curling. “Fine. I’ll call Colby—will that make you happy?”
“Ecstatic,” Sanyam said. “Do it right now.”
Fox glared. “It’s too late now. He’s asleep.”
“First thing in the morning, then,” Sanyam said, implacable.
“Are you like this with every sub?” Fox demanded. “Do you go around to every single one’s house and make them breakfast and rub arnica cream onto their ass after you’ve scened with them? Do you insist they eat their vegetables and kiss them stupid and make them want more, or am I special?”
Sanyam stood up so quickly that Fox stumbled back a step, clearly startled. Sanyam closed the gap between them and caught Fox’s shoulders, shoving him back until he hit the wall.
Sanyam pinned him there, and Fox caught his breath. He grabbed Sanyam’s wrists, fingers loose and his eyes dark, lips parting.
“Never doubt that you are special, Fox,” Sanyam whispered.
Fox’s mouth twisted, but Sanyam lowered his head and kissed him before he could speak, and Fox sagged in his hands as he opened for Sanyam’s tongue.
Sanyam let go, and Fox made a quiet noise of protest. But Sanyam had turned away, straightening his shirt.
“Call Colby first thing,” he said. He bent to pick up the condom wrappers and began tidying the room, half his attention on Fox’s motionless form.
After a minute, Fox shook himself and grabbed his shoes. After stepping into them, he hesitated, but finally he dragged the door open, and it slammed behind him.
Sanyam straightened, gazing after him. “Kiss you stupid?”
Michaela Grey lives and writes in the Texas hill country. Her hobbies include knitting, analyzing her favorite TV shows, and experiencing intense feelings over fictional characters. Michaela Grey told stories to put herself to sleep since she was old enough to hold a conversation in her head. When she learned to write, she began putting those stories down on paper. She and her family reside in the Texas hill country with their cats, and she is perpetually on the hunt for peaceful writing time, which her children make difficult to find. When she’s not writing, she’s watching hockey videos or avoiding responsibilities on Twitter, where she shamelessly ogles pretty people and tries to keep her cat off the keyboard.
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