Master Sam had told her to say no.

She cleared the thickness from her throat. “I-I—” When Jake’s hand squeezed her shoulder in warning, the memory of the pain he could wield impelled her words. “I’m really sorry, Sirs, but I—No. No, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“So are we,” Brand said. “But you gave us a courteous refusal. Well done, pet.”

“Gentlemen,” Jake said politely and steered her away.

“I…I don’t like threesomes,” she told Jake. And she didn’t want to be with him any longer, either. “I’m sure the restriction is on my limits list.”

“Perhaps, but that’s why I asked you to think about your limits again. A submissive’s wants and needs change over time. Reassessment is needed.”

I don’t want to be reassessed.

The lack of a dedicated Trainee Master meant she’d escaped a re-evaluation for quite a while. But Jake’s very posture held determination. He planned to be stubborn about this.

He turned her to face him, and his gaze dropped to her chest.

Brand had painted a Celtic-style knot band around the outside of her breasts. At the centers of each pattern, her areolas glowed yellow.

“Artwork like that is an open invitation to squeeze.” Jake’s fingers closed on one nipple, pinching and smearing the yellow paint. His green eyes stayed on her face as he squeezed firmly enough to hit the threshold of hurting—and made everything inside her tighten and pool. “Legs far apart and bend forward.”

“What?” She stared up at him, seeing the matter-of-fact resolve in his expression.

He picked up a paper towel and wiped the paint from his fingers…and waited.

Well, God. She set her bare feet shoulder-width apart.

“More.”

Fussy bastard.

After widening her stance, she bent forward, grateful his grip on her arm helped her balance. Her loose breasts hung down, swaying. Even worse, her very short skirt no longer covered her ass. As members of the club walked around her, her face flared with embarrassment.

And yet, her core rapidly filled with another kind of heat. No Master had driven her or controlled her so thoroughly in a long, long time. Her whole body seethed with excitement.

Jake ran his palm over the bare skin of her buttocks and squeezed, wakening the tender skin he’d spanked. Slowly, he slid his hand between her legs.

At the intimate touch, she jolted and tried to straighten.

His unyielding grip on her arm held her still. His fingers traced her labia, her entrance. “Nice and wet, baby. Good to know.”

After helping her straighten, he tugged her skirt back down.

Her breathing was fast, and desire was a hammering pulse beat between her legs. With every command, every firm touch of his hand, she wanted to beg for more.

But not from Jake. No, not Jake. Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked, dredging up anger to burn away her weakness. “You could’ve just asked.”

His brows lifted.

Even that miniscule movement made her knees try to buckle. “You could’ve just asked, Sir.”

“Did I miss where your limits list noted ‘no touching’ or ‘no touching intimately?’” he asked mildly.

Oh, he was the spawn of Satan. Why had she wanted him for so many years? “No.”

“In fact, according to your lists and cuff colors, I could use my cock instead of my hand and fuck you, here and now. True?”

Her mouth twisted around the answer. “True.” And she totally hated the surge of edgy excitement.

Instead, he tugged her forward. “Let’s introduce you to more Doms, trainee.”

Enjoying Rainie’s mounting frustration, Jake steered his trainee through the room, visiting the Doms whom he’d prepped about the “scene.” With his hand on her nape, he easily read her responsive body to determine how far he could push her.

Each time she attempted to defy him and failed, her trembling increased. Damn, but he wanted to comfort her and control her and explore the depths of her personality.

This wasn’t the time.

Stay on task, Sheffield. Next lesson.

After he supervised her belly being painted, he checked her arousal. Nope, these two Doms didn’t do it for her, although she was still wet.

One asked her to go upstairs to fuck.

She earned another two hard spanks before managing to refuse.

In preparation for the next group, he removed her skirt. She had a beautifully bare pussy, with the inner lips poking out between the plump outer labia. Damned tempting.

Stay on task, Sheffield. Next lesson.

Under his supervision, Adam and Carter painted her mound, ass cheeks, and upper thighs.

“I’d love to take that pretty asshole,” Adam said. “Want to let me have some time with her?”

“Rainie, what do you say?”

She looked from him to Adam and back, and her cheeks pinkened with her dawning anger. Although Jake had made his expectations clear, she’d apparently not realized how thoroughly she’d been set up. “You-you…”

Smothering his grin, he tilted his head toward Adam. “Show me how you answer him, baby.”

Despite now knowing the entire scenario was preplanned, she struggled. “I’m s-sorry, but I don’t…” Her gaze dropped, and she swallowed hard.

“Rainie,” Jake said quietly. “It’s not difficult. Try this: I’m afraid not, but thank you for the offer, Sir.”

The gratitude in her eyes made him want to cuddle her. “I’m afraid n-not, but thank you for the offer, Sir,” she parroted to Adam.

“Nicely done.” The young Dom grinned. “Come and find me if you change your mind.”

Chuckling over Rainie’s disgruntled expression, Jake led her away. Her refusals would improve with practice. The physical memory of pain would provide impetus.

Being she was a smart woman, she’d probably study her past to figure out why she had so much trouble saying no. If necessary, he and the other Masters would help her explore.

He was pleased with the evening’s work. And he’d gained some knowledge.

She didn’t particularly like pain, but definitely got off on control, subtle or overt. She could tell the poser Doms from the real ones. Sexual submission was her gig, although she had a nice helping of service submissive in her personality, enough to create a need to please others. Especially Doms. Her smart-mouthed, independent personality tended to vie with the submissive side.

She was definitely an intriguing woman.

“Maybe I should do some painting, too,” he murmured, catching the subtle scent of her body—a light spicy fragrance that mingled with the musk of her hunger. “Or, I could just play with you.”

A flush of excitement darkened her lips and cheeks.

Interesting. She might avoid him—but she also wanted him. His cock swelled in response, although he’d been half-hard all evening as he’d hauled her around. Touching her lit him up as if he’d clasped a live wire.

She was everything he enjoyed in a woman, from her scent to her lush body to her sassy mouth. Trouble was, since he’d spent the evening as a Master giving a lesson, he had to step back now. They each needed to be clear on what they wanted before moving on to fucking. Dominance and submission could definitely confuse matters.

So, to divert them both, he smacked her pretty painted ass hard enough to make her hiss. “That was a reminder to be truthful in relationships, whether you’ve known the Dom for one minute or one year. I want to see you honest in your emotions, your thoughts—and your refusals.”

“Yes, Sir.” She held still as he unfastened her wrist cuffs and the chain.

Once freed, she pulled in a breath and rubbed her ass, which probably hurt like hell. She’d have trouble sitting for a day or so. “If you want the truth…I’d really like to punch your face right now. Sir.”

He grinned.

She pushed some hair back and faced him straight on. “Nonetheless, I’m grateful for the lesson.”

And her honesty was even sexier than her gorgeous body. “Good night then, baby.”

“Good night, Sir.”

Chapter Four

“Well, Master Fuzzy-butt, I wish I felt like partying.” The next night, Rainie stood in the bathroom, her makeup arrayed on the counter like a pre-battle army. Depressed and tired, she’d resorted to the heavy artillery: thicker foundation, darker eyes, and eyelashes long enough to reach her eyebrows.

She checked the mirror. Not quite slutty, but close. Perfect for tonight’s bachelorette party and the “exotic dancers on the loose” theme. God, what a theme. Uncomfortable with looking like a hooker—outside of the Shadowlands—she’d tried to talk the other women out of the idea and been outvoted. So…just get over it, Rainie.

With a snort, she glanced at the fluffy little dog at her feet. “It’s kind of dumb going to so much effort, really. I mean, a bachelorette party means all women.”

Rhage obviously agreed since his fluffy, wagging tail whipped over the glittering blue nail polish on her toes.

She beamed at him. He was such a good conversationalist. “I can’t believe the clinic didn’t find someone looking for you, but thank God they didn’t.” Because losing Rhage would break her heart.