Mallory Brown doesn't go home with strangers, and while she's all for a great spanking, she doesn't do BDSM relationships. Fantasizing is more her speed. And when she catches a glimpse of Master Murphy, fantasies fill her brain.
But Master Murphy has other plans. He enters her life full-steam and won't take no for an answer. While she's compelled to say yes, is she really ready to say goodbye to her world as she knows it to become permanently entwined with His?
Be Warned: BDSM
Mallory crossed her arms below her breasts, hoping to hide the incessant quaking. Her teeth chattered, and it wasn’t because she was cold, even though she was wearing a spaghetti-strap, knee-length dress. No, this was all nerves. She couldn’t believe she’d come. After speaking to Diana, her confidence had soared, and she’d jumped into the shower, thrown on a dress, and rushed out.
While driving, she’d focused on surprising him, somehow pleasing him and showing him she wasn’t afraid. She’d envisioned his reaction, the deep rumble of his voice in her ear, his lips on hers. By the time she’d parked, she was both aroused and eager to see him. Now, however, she’d been waiting at the front desk, for who knew how long, and her bravery was slipping out the door. She was scared.
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” she muttered under her breath.
Till had gone to find Mason, and he was taking forever. She ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe he was engaged with another sub, and that was why he wasn’t coming. Fuck. She shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. She turned on her heel and froze.
“Leaving already, pet?” Mason stood at the door, arms crossed over his naked torso, dark hair combed back, and silver eyes regarding her with a glimmer that she couldn’t decipher but made her pulse quicken.
“You’re here.” She narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been there? And why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
Mason dropped his arms and closed the distance between them. “A while and I’m more comfortable without it. We shifters tend to run hot.” He grinned. “I’m glad you’re here, Mallory.” His gaze searched her face, dropping to her lips. He dipped his head.
“Master Mason, I had been looking for you,” Till said.
A low snarl burst from Mason, and she took a step back. Till raised his arms and bowed his head, bending it to one side.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize.” Without another word, he retreated back the way he’d come.
Mallory glanced at Mason. She wanted to go to him, pick up where they’d left off, but fear bit into her belly, reminding her why she had to take things slowly.
“I just want to talk, look, learn, nothing else,” she said. “We’re too different.”
Mason clenched his jaw and nodded. “Whatever you want, Mallory, but there’s something I need to tell you before we go into the main room. This isn’t your typical BDSM party. It’s more.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are shifters within.”
The silver in his eyes intensified while his hair grew darker and shaggier. Mallory took a step back. The tattoo of a wolf on his chest changed, moving, running, becoming larger and larger.
“You’re, I, what’s happening?” She took a step toward him, uncertain, yet mesmerized by the transformation slowly taking place.
“You’re not afraid,” Mason said, his voice guttural, animalistic. The hairs on the back of her neck stood.
“Should I be?”
He reached for her hand.
“Not at all.”
Mallory took in a deep breath and placed her palm into his. A spark traveled up her arm and she gasped.
“Are you ready?”