Initiation (Master Class, #1) - Sierra Cartwright Page 0,10

to keep on my bra and underwear.”

He nodded. “You can put your clothes on this bench.”

Fully anticipating her obedience, he went to the sound system and selected a mix that Joe had cued up. The choices ran the gamut from soft rock to inviting jazz, some Nine Inch Nails with occasional Gregorian chants threaded in.

The preset volume was too loud for Logan’s tastes. He wanted to hear all her sounds, no matter how quiet they were. And he wanted to hear the strike of leather on skin.

After lowering the volume, he turned to watch her.

She’d placed the flogger next to his equipment. Everything was in a very orderly line, which he liked. She’d removed her boots and tights, and she was struggling with the skirt zipper.

“May I?” he asked.

After she nodded, he brushed aside her fingers and finished the task. Then he stepped back to watch her finish undressing.

Her choice of underwear enchanted him. The panties were red, which was a pleasant surprise. And they were mesh, making them see-through. That was an even better surprise.

Thin black ribbon was threaded through the waistband. The panties were cut high, giving him a nice view of her curves.

Then she faced him.

The front barely covered her pubis.

Logan’s pulse accelerated.

As he silently watched, she caught the bottom of her turtleneck and pulled it up and off.

Her bra matched her panties. The material was gauzy, and the cups were defined by the same black ribbon. Tiny bows were set on each strap, an innocent tease to counter the seductive appeal. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Jennifer.”

For a moment, their gazes met. Then she seemed to force herself to look away. As she placed her turtleneck on the counter, her hand trembled.

He bent to scoop up her discarded clothing and handed the pieces to her.

“Thank you.”

He watched as she folded the garments and put them on the bench as he’d instructed. “Now I’d like you to pick up your flogger, walk to the cross and stand with your back to it.”

She took a deep breath before complying.

Logan transferred the clamps, cuffs and a blindfold to one of the metal tower-like structures that Joe had commissioned for the area then wheeled it toward her.

After ascertaining her height, he attached cuffs to the top of the cross. He was very much aware of Jennifer studying his every motion. That done, he took a step back and said, “Now kneel.”

“I didn’t know you were serious when you said you wanted me on my knees.”

Rather than responding, he pointedly looked at the floor.

Her mouth was open and her breaths were audible, rapid.

Logan watched her silent struggle.

Then long, long seconds later, she followed his command.

“Perfect,” he approved. “Now offer the flogger to me with your palms cupped in a beautiful, submissive manner.”

With astounding grace, she did so.

“Very well done,” he told her. “I want you to spread your legs and lean back just a little.” Once she’d done that, he continued, “Good. Now lower your head. Cast your gaze down or close your eyes, whichever is more comfortable for you.” He spoke in a low, firm tone, ensuring she could hear him over the music while simultaneously informing her she was ceding power to him.

After the slightest hesitation, she closed her eyes.

“You look lovely, Jennifer.” There was something completely erotic about the way she knelt, motionless, nervous, yet fighting past it in order to trust him. The image seared his mind.

Logan appreciatively drank her in before taking a step forward to accept the flogger. He hung it from the metal structure. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

She slowly did, glancing up at him.

Already, he saw the softness in her, the responsiveness, the slide into somewhere sexy and potent. There was no bland smile on her face like she’d had when she’d been with Simon. “Ask me to flog you,” he encouraged, desperate to claim her.

“I’m—”

“Ask me.”

Her hands trembled, but her voice was firm as she said, “Please, Master Logan. Will you flog me?”

“My pleasure.” He extended his hand to help her up, and her smaller one was lost in his much larger grip.

He held her for a while as he looked into her blue eyes, savoring the connection. Eventually he said, “Let’s get you on the cross.” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her and guided her toward the wooden structure. “Are you doing okay?”

“Truthfully? I’m somewhere between exhilarated and terrorized.”

“Let’s keep you on the happier end of that, shall we? Wrists first.”

She raised her right arm.

He secured her in place