Free Stray by Erin Lark

first-hand. He’s still a Dom.
    After giving his question some thought, I shook my head. “What you went through doesn’t change the fact that you’re a Dom. My Dom.”
    “Good answer.”
    “And the story? Was it real?”
    “Every ounce of it. But in order to understand Marnie, you need to take a different look at the relationship we share. You know how it is with single men who are also parents, right?”
    I bobbed my head, still trying to figure out where he was going with this.
    “Then you must know how the child sometimes tests the new girlfriend to see if she’s safe, right?”
    I nodded again.
    “Marnie is like that child. If a sub doesn’t work for her, then she doesn’t work for me. I’ll never try to push her away, so whomever we bring into this house must either be a Dom or a sub who will accept both of us. Our flaws included.”
    “And none of the other subs—”
    Dylan was shaking his head before I could finish. “If they even bother to make it past my background, they tend to shy away before things can ever get too serious.”
    “But you’re still a trainer—for new subs, I mean.”
    “Of course. But if I ever find a sub who can truthfully get along with Marnie as well as myself, I probably wouldn’t be willing to let her go.”
    I shifted my weight so I could face him, my legs folded beneath me. “And no one’s ever gotten close?”
    “Nope. I’ve fallen in love, of course, because I’m a sad sap, but that’s it.”
    I frowned at him. “I think you need to find yourself a new hobby, then.” We both smiled, and I continued, “I hear woodworking’s nice.”
    “Tried it. Ended up hammering my own finger.”
    “And hammering subs is better?”
    Dylan caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I do like a good project.”
    I shook my head and tried to look offended. The corners of my lips curled, and I knew I’d lost. “I suppose you do. So, about this client…” Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t he know what Saturday means?”
    “I don’t even know if I know what it means.”
    “Sleeping in, showers and sex.”
    Dylan hit a hand to his forehead. “I should’ve known.” He leaned in to kiss me on the lips, moaning when we drew apart. “Does my pet need some extra attention today?”
    I curled up in his arms. “Would it help if I made sad puppy eyes?”
    “Hell, no! Anything but the puppy eyes.” He took my hands in his as he slid off the side of the bed. “Come with me. There’s something I need you to do.”

Chapter Eight
     
     
     
    As soon as we reached the hallway downstairs, I froze. Even though I hadn’t gone into the kitchen last night, I knew it had changed. Most of the chairs were in the hall, lined along either side of it. Dylan had moved the table, which was completely bare save for an old bed sheet, into the middle of the room.
    Beside the kitchen table was a smaller one, with an assortment of bowls and razors sitting on top of it. My mind immediately went back to last night, back to the club where I’d got to see Dylan, fully shaved, for the very first time.
    “I’ll be shaving you soon.”
    A chill ran down my spine, leaving gooseflesh in its wake as I eyed the ropes tied to each of the four table legs. It was then that I realised how much of a game this was for him. He wasn’t just planning to shave me. You don’t have to be bound for that. Anticipation pricked at my skin, pulling at my hairs as I tried not to think about it. Any of it. Not the table. Me on my back. A razor against my skin. Ropes on my wrists. None of it.
    My teeth chattered. I chewed at my bottom lip, hugging my arms around my chest as if they could hide me from Dylan’s sight.
    When he finally turned around, the expression in his eyes had changed. He was my Master now. And I was his sub. Taking a breath, I let my hands fall to my sides as I averted my gaze.
    We both stood motionless for a long, painful moment.
    I knew he was watching me. Reading me. Making sure I