When Thursday comes up with a plan to beat the new girl at her own game, she doesn’t realize nothing will ever be the same.
Oh, it works at first. She spends an amazing weekend with Scary, but what starts as a fun way to get her privileges back ends all too soon. When the other Masters point out that he’s keeping her to himself, that he needs to start following his own rules, Scary does something not a single one of them would have ever expected.
It spins everything out of control, and Thursday is left clinging for her sanity…and his love.
Claudia R., Manic Readers, 4/5 Stars!
"...hotter than heck and a really great plot! I loved how Scarey and Thursday's relationship evolved...I really hope Miss Hillman continues on with this series as there are more characters I would like to read about (hint hint)... Great story which makes me want to read more by this author!"
Seriously Reviewed, 18.5/20 Score! SERIOUSLY UNFORGETTABLE AWARD: BEST OF 2011!
"This story was about as close to perfect as I could wish for. I’ve loved this series. I thought it was wonderfully titillating... The words flow with a smoothness that makes the moments that you’re in the story fly by. Her characters are richly described not only their physical descriptions, but you know them intimately. It’s a damn good book and one I will read again."
Susie Q., The Romance Studio, 4/5 Hearts!
"Emma Hillman's third selection in her sex slave series truly delivers the one, two, three punch...Not only is this novel full of graphically detailed sex, it is a powerful alluring trek into human emotions. Full of twists and turns, Ms. Hillman keeps the reader's interest and leaves a yearning for more, more, more... definitely worth the ride."
It started the next morning as I came down from my room. I knew it was early, too early for anyone else but him. He was spending too much time in the Harem these days, as if he didn’t want to go home. Or couldn’t. I wasn’t too sure which it was, but today it suited my purpose. Spotting him sitting at a table with a coffee cup in hand, I crossed the lounge and automatically knelt in front of him.
Debating inwardly whether to clasp my hands behind my back, I missed his look of wonder. I couldn’t miss his low growl as he asked, “What do you want, Thursday?”
I looked up, our gazes locking together for the first time in what felt like forever. “I want to please you. Master.”
His eyebrows rose. “You do?”
I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden at his suddenly pensive gaze. “Yes, Master.”
“What are you offering?”
I nearly gasped when I realized he’d seen right through my attempt. And yet, he wasn’t moving. I checked out the stretch of denim in front of me and was awarded by the brilliant sight of one very hard cock pushing against the thick material. Yes! My plan was working! I looked back up and said, my voice hesitant, “Anything, Master.”
“Anything?” he repeated, almost daring me to deny my offer.
“Anything you want, Master.”
He stared down at me for a second or two, and then he started laughing. I saw red. I’d put my heart and pride on the line, and the damn man thought it was funny! I grabbed the table and heaved myself upright, turning around with my gaze already on the staircase. I needed to flee, run back to my room and hide under the covers. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy!
“Don’t.” Fingers grabbed my right hand, effectively stopping my escape. His hard chest cupped my back for a fleeting moment before he turned me around. Harsh fingers palmed my chin as he forced my head up. “Why are you doing this, Thursday?”
I licked my lips as I tried to buy myself some time. “Because I, huh, want to?”
“Want to what?”
Shit! “Mmm, I want to please you, Master, of course.”
He rolled his eyes. “Try again, Thursday. Since when are you so pliant? You told me I could do anything to you.”
His eyes drilled into mine, as if he was trying to determine what was going on inside my head. Good luck with that one! “Do you really mean that?”
“Yes, Master.” The word rolled off my lips, just like I’d heard Friday do. She treated them all equally, calling them Masters or Sirs each time she spoke up. Or shouted her climax. Fake climax, that is. I could do that too, damn it! I told myself once again, buoying my convictions as best I could.
“Anything I want?”
“Okay then,” he paused then added, “prove it.”