Free Master Stephen by Natalie Dae Page B

Shadows, which crept in until his whole face had changed from enthrallment to sadness.
    Before I could stop myself, I walked over and stood beside him, staring at the cross.
    “You helped to make her come, Sir,” I said, hoping he’d answer me and that I wouldn’t be left there looking like a fool.
    Maybe it had only been seconds since I’d spoken, but it seemed longer. Several uncomfortable minutes of me staring while the sub was unbound then somewhat peeled off the cross and led away. I contemplated just walking away myself—I was clearly wasting my time here—out of the door the sub and her Master had gone through, into the foyer then out into the night. Getting in my car, driving off, back to an empty flat with nothing better to do than think about everything that had happened so far tonight.
    I realized, with crippling embarrassment, that he didn’t have any intention of talking to me and my silly little idea of us getting together, even only for one scene, was rapidly becoming a pipe dream. I pushed off the wall, ready to make a dignified exit, to walk off as though I hadn’t spoken to him at all. That would be best. Not to make a fuss.
    He reached out and clamped his hand around my wrist, preventing me from going anywhere. I stared down at my arm, blinking. Heat seared into my skin, his hold firm and, if I were honest, it was hurting me. I glanced up to find he wasn’t even looking at me but in the direction of the cross.
    “You’re hurting me, Sir.” I narrowed my eyes. Wondered if my earlier idea of him not being a very nice person had been spot on. “Please take your hand off me.”
    He loosened his hold but didn’t let go. “Stay with me?”
    “I would, but it doesn’t seem like you want any company—not really. You’re always alone here, Sir, and I think I’ve overstepped the mark, entered your personal space.”
    “If I asked you to stay, I meant it. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. What would be the point in that?”
    I sighed quietly. “I don’t know, Sir, but your body language, the way you’re not even looking at me… I find it odd. A bit disconcerting, if I’m honest. It’s probably better that I go, leave you to do…whatever.”
    “I’m not very good at this,” he said. “This… This. ”
    I frowned. I’d been watching him for long enough to know he appeared to be very good at this . At being a Master. So it was a puzzle as to what he’d actually meant.
    “I don’t understand, Sir. What’s this? ”
    “One on one,” he said.
    “I see.”
    “Do you?”
    “I think so.”
    I leaned back against the wall again, him still holding my wrist, and waited to see if he’d say anything else. It was a long wait.
    Then, “I find it difficult to approach people with a view to asking them to sub for me on a regular basis.” He cleared his throat. “I can Master, but I’m not too good with the relationship side of it.” He laughed. “A Dom who isn’t emotionally strong. Possibly not something you hear about every day, is it?”
    I thought about how I maybe wasn’t your usual sub. “I can relate to that, Sir. There are things I like, things I want, that may make me seem as though I’m not proper sub material. I get caught up in the rules, how I’m supposed to act and feel, when inside I just want what I want.” I paused to grab a cheeky glimpse of him. “I probably don’t belong here at all.”
    He turned and saw me looking, blushed at being caught observing me. But he didn’t turn away. He stared at me as if he were feasting, like he’d wanted to do it for a long time but hadn’t dared.
    “I like you,” he said. “Have done for a while.”
    “You do? You have?” I sounded dumb, but his admission had surprised and shocked me. I’d gone all this time thinking he’d never taken any notice at all.
    “Yes, but each time you’re near, I feel like I’ve gone back to high school. Tongue-tied. Not worthy.”
    “Goodness,” I said, not knowing what else to