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I nod. “That was more than a little. Now go freshen up before we go to the guest reception and we’ll begin our task.” With a nod, she gets up and goes to the tiny bathroom. When she’s out of my sight, I drop my face in my hands.

I don’t know what will happen to us next. But I do know that if I’m honest? I’m not devastated about being Taara’s master and having her by my side as my slave. The knowledge that I’m going to fucking enjoy this may be the very thing I fear the most in any of this.Chapter 8TaaraIt feels like I’m in a sort of dream.

Nightmare?

Dream.

Something in between, I guess. It’s hardly utopia here. I’m his slave, and he my master, but hell, there are worse things than being alone with Stefan.

God, I still have feelings for him. How could I? How could I not hate the man? But the truth is, a downturn of his lips, a shake of his head, a stern click of his tongue, and I’m ready and eager to obey him. When he smiles at me, my heart dances, my hope rises, and I know, I know I should be more cautious, that I should protect myself better. I should hate him.

But I can’t help it. My feelings for him run deep, and it seems impossible to eradicate all of them.

For now, my only job is to prove my loyalty to him. I trust that Caroline wouldn’t steer me wrong, and this is what she suggested I do.

I can do this.

Deep breath.

I can.

I return to the small room after cleaning up in the tiny bathroom. The boat suddenly sways, and I lose my footing. We’re so close, I practically tumble into his lap. He catches me with ease, his eyes doing that crinkle around the edge thing that kills me. How can he be so casual about all of this?

“You alright?” he asks in my ear, that sexy-deep grumble of his skating straight between my legs. I bet he knows how he affects me, the jerk.

“Of course,” I say. I try to push myself off of him, but of course he doesn’t let me go until he’s ready.

“Good,” he says. “You’ll have to learn to get your sea legs.” He laughs mirthlessly. “I guess you’ll have to learn a lot of things.”

Jerk.

He sets me on my feet in front of him.

“Wear this,” Stefan says, handing me a tiny black sheath dress that looks as if it’s little more than a tube top. I blink in surprise but take it and turn to go back to the bathroom.

“No,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing his arms on his chest. I look at him over my shoulder, confused.

“No what?”

“You may not get dressed in there. If we are to be master and slave aboard this ship, you’ll learn to be comfortable being naked in front of me.”

“I… oh, God. Seriously?” Is he going to go all controlling on me?

Well. Obviously.

Sigh.

I stare at him, at the man I once loved, the sexiest man I know, and I wonder if I can do this. How will I?

But then I think of Caroline. The stories she told me. What she’s endured. And I decide once again, I will not falter. I will not cave. I’m going to prove once and for all to Stefan that he can trust me, that I will do what he tells me. Because hell… if I’m really honest? I want his approval, and if that means sashaying my naked body in front of him, then… Well. It could be worse.

Lord, what my mother would say.

But something has to give between us. Something has to change. I can’t keep vacillating between hatred and want, and if I can show him I’m on his side… if we can both be on the same side… maybe I can turn this around.

So, I give it to him. My trust. My obedience.

My submission.

I don’t want to. But it’s the choice that’s best right now. And sometimes, you need to choose between two shitty options.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my voice humble and meek, while I strip out of the rumpled clothing I wore on the plane. My hands shake, the collar at my neck feeling suddenly heavy with the weight of my new role. I grasp the hem of my red top and yank it over my head. Now I wear nothing but a plain white cotton bra and a pair of leggings. This would be sexy if we—no. There is no if.

Let’s be honest.

This is fucking sexy.

I watch as he shifts uncomfortably, his gaze molten when my clothing falls to the floor like the wrapping of a gift. It thrills me. It exhilarates me. Hell, it turns me on, and then I realize with sudden vivid awareness, I’m controlling this. He might be the one with overtly more power than I, but right here, right now? I’m the one commanding this energy between us, and I love that I am.

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