My Secret Master (A Dark Billionaire Romance) (17 page)

I was slow to respond. There was too much cotton in my skull, but eventually, I met his eyes. “Then I guess you fell for a predictable girl,
Master.”

His mask—his real, invisible mask—cracked.

Seth shoved me away, I had to grab the couch for balance. Through the messy strands of my hair, I narrowed my eyes on him. The air was cloying between us. This situation wasn't one that we'd expected to find ourselves in.

Through the golden door, voices murmured.

Snapping a look towards the noise, he shoved around me. Recovering his mask from the couch, he covered his face. “Get out of here, Ms. Starling. Our game is over. Both of us walk away with nothing.”

A hard knot gripped my heart.
Nothing? He can't mean that.

Straightening, I shook my head. “What about the recommendation letter? You promised I could have it!”

Frosty eyes studied me, unfazed. Our moment of passion could have been a mere dream. “As I said, you should have read your contract. My promise is voided. We're done here.”

Turning away, he stalked down the nearby hall.

There was no farewell.

Not for me.

****

T
he drive was tense, the lights of the city going unseen.

I sat in the back, brooding over whether to be angry, or to be miserable.

Both. I'll just be both.

“I'm sorry this happened,” Corbin mumbled over the sound of the engine.

Sitting up, I leaned forward, trying to catch his eye in the mirror. “Did you know about everything?”

“You mean you sneaking into the dungeon? Yes, of course I knew.”

“But you never told him.”

“No,” he agreed somberly. “I did not. He discovered it on the security tapes, himself.”

Biting my lip, I sighed. “I hope you didn't get in trouble.”

He glanced at me in the mirror. “I was under no obligation to inform him. I didn't break his rules.”

His rules.

“Can you explain to me why he was so pissed off? It can't possibly matter so much if I know about that place, about what he does.”

“Of course it matters.” He steered us around a curve in the road. “Mr. Hart runs a private event, a place people can go to and be someone else entirely. Secrecy is the utmost importance to him, and you risked exposing him, and others, by returning to that place every night. You were never invited.”

I shook my head, not understanding. “How can they not know he's Seth? Isn't it obvious?”

“Was it obvious to you?”

Blushing, I sat back in my seat.

Corbin's eyes softened. “Even if they knew, they would never say. He knows who they all are, and that is much more powerful. It's part of the condition of joining, they must sign over their identification and a privacy agreement. They never meet Seth Hart, they only ever meet me.”

I pictured Corbin sitting behind Seth's desk, and had to smile.

“Yes, it's clear I work for him,” he said. “But the house isn't in his name, people can't simply look it up and find out he's the owner. Any who would get as far as attending the events have already signed away their rights. They'd risk scandal by stirring trouble.”

I propped my head on the window, closing my eyes.

“Don't be too offended,” he said gently. “Mr. Hart is a unique man. I admit, I've never seen him so enamored with anyone before. You really left an impression on him.”

“Too bad it ended like this, then,” I laughed bitterly.

“Yes,” he admitted. “It is too bad.”

The car pulled up outside my apartment, lighting up the garbage cans and chasing off some cats. Climbing out, I glanced back at Corbin. “Tell him I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to mess everything up.”

He smiled, nodding his head, but it felt... false.

He knows it won't matter.

I watched the car until the glow of it vanished around the street corner. Turning, I passed the garbage, spotting a dead roach. The sight made my guts squeeze, driving another nail into my morbid mood.

Frowning severely, I limped into my small, familiar apartment.

It felt more empty than it ever had before.

Seth

––––––––

B
ack and forth, I prowled through the halls of my home. My fingers dug into the air, choking unseen things.

How could this happen?

Crossing into the kitchen, I slammed the backdoor open. The night air was cool on my skin.

How could I LET this happen?

That was what it came down to. I'd been a fucking fool. The minute I'd seen Naomi on the footage, sneaking through the door, I should have stormed to her room and thrown her out.

But I hadn't.

What had stopped me?

Chlorine tainted the air where I paced by the pool. Water sloshed gently, tinkling like music, the green lights turning my skin an awful shade.

Lifting a hand, I studied my palm. It still smelled like her hair, that intoxicating cinnamon scent of hers.

Chuckling sourly, I ran my hand down my face.
It's my fault.

I had all the power, but I hadn't exercised it until the very end. She'd slid under my skin, growing until she was a part of me.

Like a god damn tumor.

My rage wasn't enough to make me believe that.

Naomi... she'd appeared beneath my stairs, dancing in the shadow world I'd created for my own dark pleasure. Seeing her there, the first night, I'd been intrigued. I hadn't known it was her.

Then, hours later, scanning the footage as my insomnia did its usual dance...

I'd seen her.

That woman, she'd slipped into one of the masks I kept on hand for emergencies—I'd had guests before who lost their own on the way to the mansion—and she'd crept down the hall and through the door.

From there, I'd battled with my irritation, and my curiosity. She'd been a delight to toy with. I loved how she'd jump when I'd slyly approach her as she painted. I was addicted to the small gasps she made.

That had only grow when I'd heard the sounds she made beneath my house.

Connecting Opal and Naomi had been tragic.

It had also been wonderful.

When she'd seen me tonight with my mask off, there'd been no shock. That had told me
her
secret; she'd known I was Onyx.

She'd
known
, and the girl had come back every time.

Why?
I wondered, crouching down to brush the warm water.
What kept her coming back?
The obvious answer was that she'd wanted the things I was doing to her. She'd been so invested, obsessed, that she'd risked everything for another taste.

Crushing my fingers, I splashed my hand in the pool.
Stupid girl.
Shaking my hand, I dried it on my pants.
But I'm stupid, too.

How long would I have kept this charade up?

I'd tried to coerce her with more art jobs. I'd longed to keep our game going.

Closing my eyes, I sighed.

Naomi had wanted me to collar her. It was an act I'd never done before.

Fuck, the way she'd reacted when she was worried I would let someone else buy her. I couldn't forget how I'd crushed her into the rug, our eyes flashing like diamonds across from each other. I'd seen her fear, then, and it had given me pause.

But even after facing my fury, she'd come back.

She was insane.

And I
loved
that.

How could I begrudge her? I was no different.

Snorting, I stood, walking towards the house.

To me, control was everything. But once I'd dominated a girl, the excitement—the drive—it always faded. I'd never taken a personal submissive. I'd trained many, but that was all.

I'd never wanted someone.

Not until...

No,
I snapped at myself. Snarling, I stomped into the main entrance room.
You can't have her. She doesn't listen, she'll never fully break.

Slowing down, I stared up at the railing above. The mural there was a storm of colors, raging and reminding me of my own emotions. It had a subtle quality to it, but that was easily lost if you focused on the black clouds and grey hints.

This was what Naomi had painted.

I'd told her to do anything, and she'd created this explosion of inner turmoil. It was more fitting than she could realize.

Naomi was wild, she was free. Yet she had a softer part, a velvet center that ached for me to stroke it and cup it in my palm. She
craved
domination, it was built into her blood.

And yet, someone like her...

She can't be tamed.

I stood straight, saturated in cold understanding.
That's right.
Again, I studied the painting; the reason I'd been attracted to her in the first place.
Naomi is wild, she wants to bend, but she'll never fully yield.

And that...

That was why I wanted her.

It was what separated her from all the other subs I'd encountered. Naomi had life, fire, and the way she resisted excited me.

The first time we'd been alone, she'd kicked me. Bit and fussed even as I gagged her. The imagery, even now, had my cock growing hard.

And tonight, after I'd demanded she leave, she'd stood her ground. She'd stared me down, and when I'd risen to meet her, we'd exploded in a furious kiss.

Touching my lips, I closed my eyes, shivering.

I wanted to taste her again. I wanted...

I wanted her back.

There was a maddening lust in me. A desire to hunt her down, claim her until she could remember nothing but my name as she screamed it over and over. I itched to fill her every crevice. Even breathing would be secondary.

Turning, I stared at the front door.

I'm not done with her,
I realized, clenching my fingers.

I would do whatever it took to make her mine again.

But this time, it would be on
my
terms.

Naomi

––––––––

I
t had been several days since I'd last seen Seth.

Even thinking of him was painful.

I'd tried to push past the depression, but the sadness... the defeat... it ruled my world. I'd lost access to a wonderful, enticing man who'd opened my mind and body to a whole other level of pleasure.

I'd also lost the ticket into the college of my dreams.

For the first time, the day after he'd yelled at me, I'd actually sat and read the contract. The clause was very specific: break the rules, and my rewards were forfeit.

No money.

No letter.

What was I going to do? How did I recover from this?

My phone buzzed, ripping me back to the present. I almost didn't answer, but the sound of another voice was appealing. “Hey Mom,” I mumbled, falling backwards onto my couch-bed.

“Is something wrong, Naomi? You sound... off.”

My smile was sour, I was glad my mother couldn't see it. “No, everything is fine,” I whispered, rubbing my eyes with my forearm. The tears came suddenly, insistent as they rolled down my cheeks. “Everything is just great, Mom. So great.”

“Naomi...”

Rolling on my side, I looked out over my drab apartment. The sight of it was too much. Just like that, all I wanted to do was get away from this city. I could start over. Besides, it wasn't as if I had anything keeping me here.

Not anymore.

“Mom, I was thinking, is the offer to go home still there?”

“Honey, listen—”

A sharp knock on the door startled me. Sitting up, my brain somersaulted. I stared across the room.

The sound came again, demanding.

“Hang on,” I said from the corner of my mouth. “I'll call you right back.” Ignoring the frustrated, confused words my mother made, I hung up.

Sliding off the bed, I approached my door warily.
Who could it be?
For a moment, I debated not answering at all. The rap of knuckles returned. That time, I pulled the handle.

In a white button-down and faded jeans, a look I'd never seen him sport before, Seth stood on my front step. He looked down on me, as penetrating as ever.

“Seth.” His name came out in a puff of air. “I—what are you doing here?”

He didn't blink, didn't move. “Can I come in?”

Unsure what to do, my flesh hungering instantly for the man I'd never expected to see again, I slid a heel backwards. Once he'd entered, I closed the door gently. Seth was studying my tiny, messy apartment. My cheeks turned cherry red. “Uh, sorry about the place, I was...”

“Ms. Starling,” he said, spinning to face me. The seriousness in his expression froze me where I was. “I came here to offer you something.”

The surrealism of this encounter was fading. Seth had been enraged with me the last time we'd seen each other. What had changed? Why was he messing with my head like this?

My mouth twisted at the corners. “You took everything I wanted away from me. What are you playing at here?”

The intensity in his stare burned at my fucking center. I knew those eyes, that ferocity.

On impulse, I clenched my thighs together.

He said, very slowly, “I spent some time considering how we left things.” The reminder of our fight didn't calm my nerves. “Perhaps I was too hasty.”

“Too hasty?” I replied numbly.

His smile crossed into a wicked promise. “If you truly want another chance, like you begged for so dearly, I'm willing to give it to you.”

Moving my mouth, I sought to make sense of the emotions waging in me. Excitement... relief... and doubt. “You'd still write me that letter? If this is a trick, I—”

Lifting a hand, he silenced me. That would have been enough, but Seth bent closer, corralling me against the wall in a split second. “This offer doesn't come easy.  Ms. Starling, if you agree to this, there will be conditions.”

Conditions.
Thinking about that damn contract, I narrowed my eyes. “More rules?”

I saw his teeth. “
One
rule.”

My heart thumped in a constant, rising tide. Seth pressed his palm to the wall, blocking me in with his body—his heat. I could smell him, and that scent had me wobbling.