Her Master's Collar (On the Hunt) by Sara Brookes Page A

highlighting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His pants were loose, but not so much that she missed the faint ridge of his penis beneath the thin fabric.
    Everything inside her started to burn as she thought about how glorious it would feel to have him buried inside her pussy. How his hands would pin her in place as he thrust over and over while her keening wails bounced off the walls. The air disappeared from the narrow hallway as her eyes lifted to meet his intense gaze.
    Small wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as he rubbed his knuckle over her jaw. “You’re blushing.”
    “I’m not.” She pushed at his hand, turning away despite the fact she couldn’t stop thinking about him taking her against the wall.
    He caught up with her, his hand sliding protectively against her lower back as they walked down the hall. The gesture was an old habit of his. One usually reserved for when they’d gone to dinner to relax and enjoy each other’s company before a scene. He used it as a signal to her he would be there no matter what demands he’d make of her later.
    The touch comforted her and unsettled her at the same time. She wanted to give in to her body’s aching need, completely forget about listening to her head and instead give in to the overwhelming desire to fuck.
    So much for staunch professionalism.
    He leaned closer as they waited for the high-speed lift, his lips brushing against her ear. “I think a little wisp of steam just puffed out of your ear from thinking so hard. Care to share what’s on that pretty mind of yours?”
    Damn. She’d forgotten his knack for reading her face so well. “Just thinking about the next few days. Hoping things will go smoothly and that we—the company and the employees—can put this all behind us.”
    “Liar.” His amused tone matched Finley’s.
    After exiting the lift, they stepped into the opulent theater situated at one end of the promenade deck. The sheer size of the space was overwhelming, and she blinked a few times in stunned astonishment. He swept her up to the balcony, to a private area large enough for just the two of them. An expensive-looking bottle of champagne sat nestled in a chilling bucket while two glasses rested on the small knee-high table between the seats.
    Roland dismissed the usher, pouring the beverage himself before handing her one of the glasses. “Now. Tell me what you were really thinking about.”
    The flavor of toasted hazelnuts, orange blossoms and dried apricots filled her mouth as she sipped the champagne. Roland had always possessed a knack for choosing some of the most fantastic drinks. She didn’t want to think about how much this bottle was going to cost her. Instead, she simply indulged herself with another sip.
    Somehow, the alcohol gave her the strength she needed to answer him. Liquid courage, apparently. “You. I was thinking about what happened when we first came aboard. I shouldn’t have gone to my knees that easily for you.”
    “You always did prefer making me work for what I wanted.” Said at any other time, she would have probably laughed and agreed. But given the fact her body still ached for him, his statement simply hurt. She sipped her champagne again, her throat dry. “Your body is obviously trying to tell you something. Why don’t you agree?”
    She gave him a cold look. “I don’t know, Roland.”
    “I, for one, happen to think you look damn gorgeous on your knees. I always have and I always will. Ten years apart hasn’t changed that. And you can’t deny you reacted, Korene.” He slowly brushed his knuckles against her face as he turned in his seat, the warmth of his touch igniting the banked fire in her core. “Your body responded to my touch, my voice. You want this more than you realize. What happened was a clear indication.”
    “Oh, I know exactly what my body wants, there’s no doubt about that. What happened back in the room—any of it—was a glaring sign I still need to submit to