Master of Submission [Masters of Submission 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (15 page)

“Wow, you’re something else, lady.” Zane tenderly stroked the sweat-covered hair from her eyes.

Emma made a whimper of protest, when Zane withdrew from her and rolled to the side. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting more comfortable.” He stroked a hand down her cheek and smiled at her. “Here, I’ll remove these before they start hurting.” He gently unscrewed the nipple clamps, and slowly eased them from her breasts. Her nipples had become tender, and she took a sharp intake of breath as he lifted them away. He grabbed the duvet and tugged it across them both, then pulled her into his arms. She nestled comfortably against his broad shoulder. “Is that better, baby?” he asked, starting to massage her tired shoulders.

“Much.” She snuggled into his masculine warmth, and let her fingers drift across the taut muscles of his well-developed chest. Emma had never felt so emotionally and physically close to a man. Just letting go of her old self with all its pent-up inhibitions made her feel as though a weight had been lifted from her mind. Perhaps she’d always been a natural submissive. Certainly, the men she’d dated before had never shown their dominant side like Zane did. Maybe that was why she’d always felt unfulfilled in her relationships with men. Zane could never disappoint her. He always took control, especially during sex. He demanded, and she gave, and yet he protected her, too. She touched his rugged face, letting her fingers drift along his masculine jaw. “I never expected to find such loving care in a D/s relationship, Zane.”

He tenderly massaged her shoulder again, and kissed her forehead. “It is the duty of every Master to tend to the welfare of their sub, especially when she’s pleased them.” His voice was deep and mellow, and reverberated through his chest.

“But…I…” Emma breathed in, wanting to understand why she felt such a close emotional bond with Zane. The feeling that she was falling hopelessly in love with him made her say, “I never expected it to be so intense.”

He playfully tapped her nose as he turned to look at her. His blue eyes were mellow and friendly. “I guess it’s different with you, baby. You’re special.”

“I am?” Just his words,
You’re special
, made her feel safe and protected. Was this Zane’s way of telling her he loved her? Was it even possible to love someone after just one week?

Zane took a long, deep breath, before slowly releasing it. “Sometimes when two people share the same wavelength, they just…” He sucked in another breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I lo—” He coughed awkwardly. “Listen, Emma. What I meant to say was, if you’re living here with me on a full-time basis, we could spend more time getting to know each other better. Sex doesn’t always have to be hard edged, baby. I just like being with you.”

“You do?” The way he looked at her she was sure he felt their connection, too. Had Zane been about to tell her he loved her?

He laughed. “No need to look so surprised. I want us to share a caring relationship. How else am I gonna get you to do all those wicked things I’ve got planned for you.”

* * * *

Zane stroked Emma’s shoulder once more. She’d been right. The sex between them
was
intense. In fact the fucking was out of this world. He’d indulged in D/s relationships since his divorce, but he’d never brought any of his subs home—until now. He’d always preferred Club Submission and its vibrant social scene to fulfill his sexual needs.
Yeah, Zane, you’ve been a right selfish prick over the years. Using the subs at the club for your own sexual gratification, without giving a fuck about their feelings once you left.
The submissive women had been only too willing to accommodate the great Master Zane. He’d always satisfied their sexual needs completely, making sure they kept coming back for more.

But Emma is different. She’s special.

He knew he didn’t want to discipline her in front of other club members as he had with all his previous subs.
Fuck, this lady really is special
. If and when physical correction was required, he would do it in the privacy of his own home, without any voyeurs to witness her punishment. That part of their relationship would be kept strictly private from now on. He didn’t need an audience to turn him on anymore. He wanted Emma all to himself. Maybe he was going soft in his old age. Or maybe he’d fallen in love with her.

Christ, he’d almost let that slip, but he’d just managed to stop himself in time. He’d nearly uttered that crazy little four-letter word, which can change people’s lives forever. From now on, he’d keep his mouth shut and his powder dry. Relationships needed time to develop and grow. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself and tell her that he loved her if she didn’t feel the same way about him. No, it would be best to hold back for the time being. He needed to be absolutely sure.

Zane turned and looked at Emma sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. Her breathing was calm and rhythmic, her sensuous, full lips slightly parted. How beautiful and at peace with herself she appeared. Helping her to overcome her sexual inhibitions was a job he would relish. He noticed a difference in Emma already. A few more sessions like they’d just had, and she would be well on the way to leaving her repressed English upbringing far behind her. All the extra effort would be time well spent, because there was no doubt in his mind that Emma was his perfect submissive and lifelong partner.

Four days later

Emma had dreaded this day ever since she’d learned that Chloe was dead. At least she had Zane by her side. He wore an expensive hand-tailored suit, with matching waistcoat, a simple white shirt and black tie. She nervously touched his arm as the funeral cortege swept through the cemetery gates.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, covering her hand with his, but still keeping his eyes trained up ahead. He then turned to look at her. “There’s one or two reporters outside the chapel. Just ignore them.”

“That’s easier said than done. Everyone knows Chloe frequented Club Submission. Our pictures will be plastered all over the papers. I’m not worried about myself, but what about you, Zane. What about your reputation? You have a business to run.”

“It’s at times like these that people find out if they’re made of the right stuff. I knew Chloe for a short while, and it’s right I’m here.” He patted her hand. “They won’t necessarily make a connection anyway, and I’m not worried about a little bad publicity.” He smiled as the limousine drew to halt outside the chapel. “Besides, there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

Emma doubted he was right, but she was extremely grateful that he’d agreed to accompany her to Chloe’s funeral. At this precise moment she needed him to lean on. As he squeezed her hand, she could feel his strength of character pouring into her, making her strong.

“Now deep breath, Emma.”

Clutching her personal tribute to her dear friend, Emma slipped from the luxurious car and stepped out onto the cobbled paving. Ignoring the press photographers lined up behind a roped-off area, she bowed her head as the casket was lifted from the hearse, and pallbearers carried it past her inside the chapel.

A bouquet of beautiful red roses and pale white lilies sprayed out on top of the pure white coffin. Chloe loved flowers—she loved life. Emma fought down a choke, and breathed deeply, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. This was going to be hard.

* * * *

Zane scanned the chapel as the service got underway. It was filled with mourners. There were a few people here whom he recognized from Club Submission. Matthew, Ethan, Jessica, and Hunter were all here, and he nodded in their direction. It was good they were paying their respects.

After the second hymn finished, Emma stood, and moved across to the coffin. She placed a single white lily on the casket and then turned to the congregation. He could see she was nervous. Her hand kept gripping her notes tightly between her fingers. Her pale complexion contrasted sharply with the black dress she wore.

Emma cleared her throat. “Chloe and I became good friends at Oxford University. We were both eighteen with our whole lives ahead of us. Tragically, Chloe’s life has been cut short. I’ve chosen a poem that sums up how I feel.” She took a deep breath. “We cannot judge a biography by its length, nor by the number of pages in it. We must judge it by the richness of its contents. Sometimes those unfinished are among the most poignant. We cannot judge a song by its duration, nor by the number of its notes. We must judge it by the way it touches and lifts our souls. Sometimes those unfinished are among the most beautiful. And when something has enriched your life, and when its melody lingers on in your heart. Is it unfinished? Or is it endless?” Her voice cracked on the last word, and Zane knew she was just barely keeping it together. “You touched the lives of everyone who knew you. Thank you, Chloe. I will never forget you.”

Zane wrapped his arm around Emma as she came and sat beside him once more. He could see her lower lip trembling as she fought to keep her composure. He whispered in her ear, “Emma, I’m real proud of you.” It felt bittersweet to think a tragedy so heartbreaking had brought them together.

When the service was over, he held her protectively around the waist and guided her toward the entrance.

“Can I have a word?” Detective Dave Mitchell appeared through the throng of people queuing to leave the chapel.

Zane sighed. That’s all he needed. An overzealous cop. The detective had an irritating knack of turning up at inappropriate moments. “Is this absolutely necessary? Can’t it wait? It’s a Goddamn funeral in case you haven’t noticed.”

Detective Dave Mitchell was unrepentant. “You can always come down to the station and answer my questions there.”

“Take no notice of him, Zane. He’s just trying to intimidate us.” Emma looked the detective squarely in the eye. “That is what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

“Just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for Orion, instead of harassing us?”

“The man calling himself Orion has come forward.”

“Really. Who is it?”

“Ma’am, I can’t divulge that information.”

“Why ever not? He’s the one who killed Chloe.”

“His DNA didn’t match the killers.”

Zane butted in. “So why are you here, Detective?” If he could get away with it, he’d lay the prick out with a left hook to the jaw.

Matthew and Ethan must have overheard his raised voice, because they came across.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked.

“Detective Mitchell was just leaving.” Zane hoped the asshole would take the hint.

The detective seemed totally unfazed by the growing audience. He stared at them all. “There’s a trail leading all the way from Chloe Watts to Club Submission.”

Out the corner of his eye, Zane could see the two brothers square up to the detective. Any minute now a fight would break out.

Unperturbed by the growing hostility toward him, the cop shook his head. “I’ve asked myself a thousand times. What sort of men enjoy hurting women? If it’s the last thing I do before I hang up my badge, I’ll have the place closed down.”

Matthew spoke out. Although his voice was calm, Zane knew he was angry. “It’s bigoted cops like you who give the police a bad name. Maybe you should stay away from things you don’t understand.”

“Mr. Strong, Club Submission is a haven for sadists, using the cover of the club to practice abuse and violence on vulnerable women. It is my intention to close it down for good.”

The detective’s misconceptions of the BDSM lifestyle were insulting to Zane and the women he’d shared a D/s relationship with.
Goddamn it, the guy was seriously asking for a broken nose.

Emma must have noticed Zane’s hands clench into fists, because she gently squeezed his arm. “Please, everyone, don’t take the bait. He wants you to get angry, so he can arrest you all. Then the good people of Boston will think he’s doing a great job.”

Zane looked at Emma. Her beautiful face pacified the anger seething through his veins. He’d been so close to hitting the cop, and he guessed Matthew and Ethan had been, too.

“Detective Mitchell, instead of concentrating on Club Submission, try looking elsewhere. Maybe then, you’ll actually find the killer,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Ignoring the cop, Ethan extended his hand to Emma. “Those are wise words, ma’am. My condolences on your sad loss.”

“Thank you for coming.” Emma smiled and shook his hand, before taking Matthew’s hand. “Thank you.”

“We liked Chloe. She was a great girl,” Matthew said. Then both the brothers turned and began walking away. It was as if the detective no longer existed.

“I think we’re done here.” Zane put his arm around Emma’s shoulders. She brought out the best in everyone. He didn’t want to give the rogue cop a second thought either. “Let’s go home, baby.”

* * * *

Two weeks later

“How should I behave, Zane? Tell me again how a sub should act with her Master in public.” Emma had a slight nervous edge to her voice as he drove the luxurious Range Rover across the intersection. It was mid-December, and snow lay frozen in patches on the ground. He was glad he’d decided to use the four-wheel drive.

He guessed she was a little apprehensive, because he was taking her back to Club Submission for the first time since they’d met. For the last few weeks she’d stayed at his home. Of course, Emma being Emma, and a very independent lady, she’d insisted on paying the market rate for her board and keep. They’d been working on cementing their relationship together, and it had developed far better than he could have hoped. She was proving to be a worthy sub. Her repressed English background was almost a thing of the past now. There was just the odd day or two when her old insecurities would resurface, and she’d feel unsure of herself.
Like today
. In a year or less from now, it would be gone for good.