Free Devoted: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella by Lexi Blake Page A

this overwhelmed her.
    After ten or twelve, he stopped, his hand still on her cheek. “That clit only gets stroked by me. I would like you to acknowledge that.”
    “Yes.” She just wanted him to touch her again. Somehow he knew exactly how to spank her. When he touched her she practically felt sparks between them. Even now her skin was hot and aching for more. It was pleasure and pain all wrapped up in something that made it more than either experience was singularly. The pleasure was heightened by the pain.
    A crack split the air. “Use your words, pet.”
    He apparently liked to hear her talk dirty. She could give him that. “My clitoris belongs to you. Only you can touch it, stroke it. Only you can make me come.”
    For as long as it lasted, they would play, and part of that play was surrendering control to him and that included her pleasure.
    It was an intoxicating idea. Every day she slogged through, having to make decision after decision. Being in charge of everything, responsible for everything, was tiring. She wouldn’t give up her job for anything in the world, but she needed this. She needed these hours when she had to worry about nothing but pleasing him. When the world narrowed down to something manageable and she knew she could focus on what brought her pleasure.
    She was fairly certain he would bring her an enormous amount of pleasure.
    He spanked her again, slower this time so she felt every single second. A hard smack would be followed by the hot feel of his hand cupping her, holding the heat to her. He struck the under curve of her ass, making her feel needy. She could feel herself softening, getting ripe and ready.
    “You’re beautiful, pet. I knew you would look lovely, but this ass is quite perfect.”
    She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Now that she was here she realized how on the edge she was. She’d held it together through the accident. Not once during the police questioning or the ride to the hospital had she been anything but collected and patient.
    Flynn was sending her somewhere else. He slapped her ass with that big hand of his and she couldn’t be rational about it. The pain made her eyes water, and somehow crying made her look inward. It took her back to that moment when she’d realized the car was out of control and that no one needed her. Not really. Bridget had a family. Frankie would find his perfect lover and be happy. No one would miss her. They would install another CEO and life would go on. No one would mourn her with their whole hearts.
    She found herself hauled up, strong arms coming around her. Flynn balanced her, surrounded her. His arms wound under her breasts and held her tight, her back to his front.
    “Tell me,” he whispered in her ear.
    “I was so scared.”
    “Of course you were.” His voice was soft against her. “You could have been killed. Don’t hold it in. You don’t have to do that. Let it out. You’re safe now. Let it out.”
    Amy never let it out. That wasn’t something they did in her family. Well, Bridget had done it. Bridget had been the rebel. Amy had been the good girl, the controlled one.
    But Flynn was in control now. He wanted her to let go. He wouldn’t judge her for it.
    “I didn’t want to die.” A sob formed in the back of her throat.
    “I know, pet.”
    She shook her head. “Not because my life is so great. I didn’t want to die because no one would miss me.”
    His arms tightened again, a sweet cage. “You are so wrong, but don’t stop. Let it out. Let it all out.”
    She cried for the first time in forever. The pain had made it possible, as though it had been all right to cry over a physical ache, and then Flynn had given her permission to cry over the ache in her soul. She knew that wasn’t right. It was a leftover from her crappy childhood when her father wouldn’t tolerate normal emotions. They were a weakness and he didn’t like weakness.
    She hadn’t even cried with Frankie, who she’d loved. He