Joey W. Hill - Knights Of The Board Room 3 - Honor Bound by Joey W. Hill

Author:Joey W. Hill [Hill, Joey W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0100-12-31T14:00:00+00:00

Eight

She bit her lip, overcome, but he didn’t require her words. He reached

away from her, and she heard the slide of something like metal across

a table surface. When he brought it up, it brushed her sternum.

Jewelry. Or . . . Her heart rate started accelerating.

As he put the collar on her throat, she followed it there, passing her

fingers over his wrist, then down to the wide strap, lined so it

wouldn’t chafe. A waterfall of decorative chains fell from it. It had a

D-ring loop, with a pendant. Touching the oblong disk, she realized it

was a medallion. Because she’d replayed every detail she remembered

about him that night, her throat closed, already knowing.

“It’s the St. Christopher’s I wear.” He increased the collar’s

constriction, resulting in a violent contraction low in her belly. Her

fingers trembled where they rested on his thick wrist. “You know the

rules, Dana. While you wear this, I’m your Master. You’re mine. You

follow my orders; you do what I tell you.”

“But I didn’t . . . I refused to call you that.”

He touched her chin, lifted her face, and she sensed him so close, the

idea of his mouth hovering so near overwhelming her. “Are you going

to refuse now?” he asked.

She swallowed. A hundred denials leaped to mind, but it wasn’t her

rational mind running things now. “No.”

“No, what?” His tone sharpened, making her jump. She responded

automatically, pushing all worries and concerns aside.

“No, Master.”

“Good.” The deep, sensual pleasure in his voice rippled through her.

“Because we have some business to handle before I bathe and dress

you the way I want.”

Taking her arm, he guided her back toward the main source of that

marsh breeze. She heard the creak of a screen door opening, and he

was leading her out before she could balk.

She hated it, but her legs started to tremble. The give of the boards

suggested she was being led onto a boat dock. That meant they were

surrounded by water, and she was completely naked. One misstep, and

she’d be in the water. Her fingers crept up to hold his hand at her

waist, knuckles burrowing into his palm. She was thankful he didn’t

admonish her for lack of trust, but squeezed that hand, reassuring her

without words.

She started when something dragged against her skin. Before she

could panic, he stopped, guided her hand to touch long, waving grass.

It apparently grew up along the sides of this part of the dock, tall

enough to tease her bare ankles. As the strands moved under her palm,

she took a deep breath, focused on their motion. Her nostrils flared,

bringing her the aroma secreted in their sun-soaked stalks and

darker, moist places near the waterline.

“The smell is so vivid, you can almost see it, can’t you? C’mon,

sweetheart. I want to take you to the end of the dock.”

When she straightened, he led her onward, no hesitation, a smooth

pace that had her stomach jumping like the frogs she could faintly

hear croaking, which meant they were making quite a racket near the

dock. At the end, he let her feel the edge of the dock with her toes,

then put her hands on a piling.

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