Free Broken Glass by Arianne Richmonde Page B

thought of. There was no doubt that Daniel was right. I lifted my chin. “I don’t belong to anyone, Daniel. And I’m not your baby.” Why I said this, I had no idea. I wanted to claim my independence, prove to him that I was my own person, not weak-willed, not his toy. I wanted him to believe I didn’t need him. I was begging myself to believe that too.
    “Kate, with her shrew-like claws out, I see,” he said, referring to the role he always said I should play: Kate from Taming of the Shrew . Daniel chuckled, almost enjoying my mercurial disposition that less than an hour ago had me in such a vulnerable yet wanton place—all his; every single part of me—but now had me taking back my power. Or trying to. He loved a challenge.
    “Watch out or these claws could strike,” I murmured.
    “I think it’s your bed time.” He stood up and fetched a giant, fluffy towel from a heater rack and helped me out of the tub. I stood there like a child as he patted me dry, my lips set in a sullen pout. The man had taken me, pulled out an illicit orgasm from my body as if it were the easiest most natural thing in the world. I should have been rejoicing to feel so in love with him, so at one, but all I wanted to do was fight. Rebel. Kick and scream.
    But not tonight. I was too tired. He’d worn me down. He’d taken everything from me and was calling it his own.
    And I hated him for it.
    I WAS AWOKEN by Daniel’s kiss, soft on my lips, and inhaled his Glassy scent, which mingled with the tail end of my dreams . . . a cliff, me flying, an angel . . . I was still immersed in my fantasy world. Light accosted my face, but I kept my eyes firmly closed. I wasn’t ready to get up yet, and feeling too just-fucked—even though it happened hours ago—to have more sex with him right now.
    “Beautiful girl,” he whispered. “Beautiful, beautiful girl.”
    I heard him quietly leave the room and make a couple of phone calls, the second of which caught my attention.
    As if he were ordering takeout, he rattled off a list of sex toys to buy, some of which sounded more like torture implements from the medieval age.
    “Yes, some handcuffs, but nice ones, you know, lined with something soft so they don’t bruise the wrists. What else . . . let me think . . . Oh yes, a set of . . .um . . . nipple clamps.”
    My ears perked up. Nipple clamps? Ouch.
    “A couple of whips, one with a tassel, and a riding crop one.”
    Double ouch.
    “And a paddle for spanking.”
    Triple ouch, but very, very curious.
    “A bondage scarf, or mask, or whatever looks sexy, but also a little dangerous.”
    Hmm, yes .
    “Edible body paint, or maybe just some sort of melted chocolate.” Oh, yes please .
    “Black, lace, crotchless panties, and bra to match . . . better be extra small,” he added as an afterthought.
    Wait, hang on  . . .  that’s a bit intimate  . . .  who the hell is he speaking to anyway? One of his minions? Daniel was used to people running around for him. Embarrassing . . . I only hoped I didn’t have to come face to face with this person.
    I lay there, still half dreaming, too tired from last night to get up. Daniel obviously had more kinky stuff planned and, despite my cross face, mock rebellion, and threat of claws, I now welcomed ‘playtime’ with relish. Rehearsals, here we come ! I couldn’t wait. I’d always loved working with Daniel, but this would be the most thrilling experience of all.
    I slipped back into slumber, expecting Daniel to wake me in an hour or so.
    But when I did finally haul myself out of bed, he was gone.
    The smell of freshly brewed coffee stirred my senses. I found a note by the coffee machine.
    Janie,
    I saw the fire in your eyes last night after our extraordinary tryst. I can only see what happened as a beautiful thing, and it seemed you loved every second of it, although I fear you now feel compromised in some way. I admit, it seemed like an act of domination on my part, of