Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Master of Desire, Slave to Lust ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, but I wouldn't mind getting my hands on Vegeta's tail.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter Four

Bulma was mad. Furious. Pissed beyond pissed. How dare he say no to her? His sneer as he glared down at her naked body was burned into her brain. His eyes were cold and unforgiving, only disgust evident for her in the curl of his lip. He thought she was nothing more than dirt at his feet. Her! Bulma Briefs! He thought she wasn't good enough for him. The homeless, useless, prince of a dead race. The bastard!

Bulma slammed the door for to her office for the fifth time that day, glaring at her imbecile employees, who dove for their desks or nearby alcoves to avoid her wrath. She stalked down the hall, her teeth grinding together so hard she was sure she was going to end up chipping a molar.

She hadn't been able to get a thing done that day. Every time she started on a project, Vegeta's sneer would drift into her mind and she would explode into a fit of fury, yelling and screaming at whomever was near. She couldn't stand the thought that he had rejected her. That he had been so close to her perfect, delectable body, jerking off centimeters from her and he still hadn't touched her. He treated her as live porn. Something to watch when he was bored.

She burst into the bathroom, snarling at the women who lined the counter before disappearing into one of the stalls. She heard the women quickly file out and she was left in silence to contemplate her thoughts.

What was wrong with him? How could he just walk away like that? Was he a machine? Did he truly think she was nothing more than some sort of slave, put there to serve him in any manner that he deemed fit? Worse, apparently he didn't seem to deem her fit enough to touch. This brought her to her biggest concern.

What was wrong with her? Why didn't he want her? Wasn't she beautiful? Everyone said so. They had been saying it since her birth. Men lusted after, women wanted to be her. She was in the media so often that her own features were almost a stranger to her. She would see her glitzy smile on the evening news and sometimes she would forget that was her. Was that her problem? Was she really just forgettable? Was it only her money that everyone saw and not her?

She heard the bang of the bathroom door opening and the shrill tone of women's gossiping voices filtered in.

"Damn, Briefs is sure being a bitch today. What the hell is her problem?" A familiar voice sounded, and Bulma thought she recognized it as being Sandra from accounting.

"I heard that she had a date with Donavan from legal last night." Another voice chimed in.

"Oh yeah? How did that go?"

The second woman snickered before answering. "I guess she was a real ice queen. She wouldn't even let him touch her. He's telling everyone in the office that he's seen more action from a tree stump."

Laughter echoed in the room, and Bulma's face turned red with indignation.

"That's not very nice guys. Maybe she just didn't like him." A third, softer voice drifted into the conversation, and try as she might Bulma couldn't place it.

She heard a snort before Sandra started talking again. "That woman doesn't like anyone. All she ever thinks about is business. If she ever did get into bed with a man she would probably treat him like a company merger. She would be the one calling the shots while he just lay there and agreed."

"Yah, remember that poor baseball player she dated for like forever. She had him so whipped that he stuttered whenever he talked to a pretty girl." Bulma listened closely and she was finally able to place the second voice as Linda down in filing. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. Yamcha stuttered around pretty girls because he never quite got over his fear of them. It was pathetic really. She thought it was cute when they were younger, but it got old real quick. What was the point of having a strong fighter for a boyfriend if he was a pussy?

"Maybe he's just shy." The soft voice echoed, but the other two women ignored her.

"Did you see that article in Time? 'Ms Briefs, the girl on top.' Yah, she's on top all right. I bet she won't have sex unless she's the one doing the fucking."

"You're right. Donovan probably intimidated her. He's the kind of guy that would want to be in charge."

"Briefs would more than likely have an epileptic seizure if some tried to tell her what to do. She's a control freak. I bet she doesn't even like sex."

Sandra pitched her voice high to imitate Bulma. "No, I couldn't possibly have an orgasm. I might lose control of myself for a minute."

Laughter echoed again, and Bulma could take no more. She stood up, unlocking the door to her stall. She calmly stepped out, ignoring the women who looked like a bird had flown out of nowhere and crapped on them. Bulma glanced over at the quiet one, memorizing her face before walking up to the sink. She turned on the water to wash her hands, the only sound in the unnaturally silent room.

She dried her hands and walked to the door, pausing before leaving. "Sandra and Linda at the end of your shift today you can pick up your paychecks from HR."

"Bitch," Sandra hissed at her from behind, and Bulma felt a cold smile spread over her red lips. She turned back, looking at the viperous women for the first time.

"Whatever it takes to stay on top," she replied, her eyes glittering with malice. She turned to leave, but a softly spoken voice stopped her.

"Sometimes being on the bottom is more pleasurable than being on top." Bulma shoulders stiffened, but she regained her stride as she exited the bathroom.

She knew the girl was talking about more than just sex. Being on top was hard. It was stressful and time consuming. She didn't have the ability to go out with the girls at the end of the day to blow off steam at some local bar. She was Bulma Briefs. Her every move was watched and analyzed by the ever present media. A few mishaps when she was a teenager, taught her that lesson. There was nothing more humiliating than having your personal flaws smeared across the morning paper. She would never be a normal girl. She was the richest and most powerful woman in the world. She was a prisoner of her own success, and whoever she chose to be by her side would also be a captive.

Bulma strode to her office, but as she neared she took a sharp right towards the building lobby. She knew she wouldn't get any work done today, and she was too disturbed to be around her employees. As she walked down the hall towards the elevator, she saw the panicked glances that everyone threw her before stepping out of her way. On a normal day she wouldn't notice it or worse it would please her, but today it only made her sad. Was this how everyone saw her? A monster to be avoided. An ice queen who couldn't let go of her control long enough to get properly fucked.

Bulma left the building, knowing exactly where she wanted to go. The one place where she hadn't succeed. To the one person who she had to fight for control with. She knew what she wanted, and dammit, she was going to get it. After all she was Bulma Briefs. She was always on top. On top of business, in the top of her class, the top beauty and always on top of her man.

Vegeta was in the shower when he felt her coming from across the compound. He was thinking about what they had done together the night before. His hand curled loosely around his semi aroused staff as he remembered how lush her body had looked spread out across her luxurious silk draped bed. It had taken most of his will power not to thrust into her wet heat right then and there. To finally sink his throbbing flesh into hers. She had practically begged for it, but not quite. She wasn't ready just yet.

He wouldn't stop until he had her total submission, her acceptance of his will. He knew that taming her would be time consuming, but it was a past time that he was more than willing to indulge in.

Years of servitude had taught him what it was like to feel inferior to those more powerful around him. Being weaker than Kakarot was nothing new, it was just far more frustrating than he imagined. If the bastard hadn't been a Saiyan, Vegeta wouldn't have cared less if he was more than powerful than he, but he did. A third class outstripping his prince. It could not be condoned.

Since he was presently weaker than the tailless freak, he had to abide by certain rules. First and foremost being that he couldn't terrorize any of the pathetic human populace. It seemed simple enough, but it left Vegeta with no outlet for his rampaging emotions, except for his endless training.

He raised his head, his black eyes narrowing. Bulma's aura was snapping like lightning in a summer storm, and he knew that she was coming for a confrontation. He smiled to himself, knowing that he had found a second outlet for his strained psyche in the form of one breathtakingly, beautiful female. All of his life he had taken out his anger at being weaker, at being inferior, on those who couldn't protect themselves, but now he had an opportunity---a chance to finally reach out and claim something for himself.

A small piece of heaven could be his if he dared to grab it. Once he had her in his grip, he would bind her to him, so tightly that no one would be able to take her away from him. He may not choose to keep her, but she would be his forever.

He stepped out of the shower, whipping his head to shake the water from his mane. He didn't bother with a towel as he stalked out into his room, water still dripping down his chest.

He stopped in front of his bed, glaring down at the single wide, military cot. This alone underscored the vast difference between them. She wallowed in luxury, born to wealth and prestige, while he the Prince of his race, was most comfortable in the sparsest conditions possible. Besides his armor, he had never owned a material object in his life. Everything had to be provided to him by his lizard master that he slaved under.

He could feel her presence above him now, and he took his place, naked on the bed, impatiently waiting for her while he stroked his fully hardened flesh. The hatch clanged, and he watched as her dainty foot appeared, clad in blue heels. She made her way carefully down the ladder, reason warning her through her madness that if she rushed, she could very well fall.

Her long legs emerged and Vegeta squeezed his shaft when he realized that her short skirt had ridden even further up her thighs. She stepped down, and Vegeta saw that her hair was pinned up at the base of her neck. That always drove him wild. He would sit outside her room at night, impatiently waiting for her to take down her hair, one strand at a time to run her brush through her impossibly blue tresses. His fingers itched to trail her hair through them. He just wanted to know if it was soft as it looked.

She turned to face him, and he could see that she was flushed with anger, along with something else he couldn't quite place. She stilled for moment when she realized that he was inclined on his bed, his back braced against the cold steel wall, stroking his thick hard shaft while he watched her. The sight aroused her as well as infuriated her.

She stalked up to the bed, standing directly in front of him. She cocked her hands on her hips, desperately trying to ignore the loud, persistent voice that was clamoring at her to climb up on the bed, and knock his hand away. Why use a hand when he had a perfectly willing mouth available?

"How dare you!" she hissed instead, looking him square in the eye. He winged a fine, black eyebrow at her mockingly, his hand never ceasing.

When he didn't reply, Bulma nearly choked on her tongue in rage. "Do you know who I am? I'm Bulma Briefs, heiress to the richest corporation in the world. I have more money than you will ever see in ten life times. How dare you say no to me!" she spat in a rage.

He smiled languidly at her, his ivory fangs flashing under the pale yellow light that emanated from a single bulb in the ceiling. "To me you are nothing, but a disrespectful slave."

Bulma stomped her foot in fury. "I am no one's slave!" She thrust her manicured finger at him forcefully. "It's you who are the slave, dammit. When I say that I want to fuck then we had better fuck!"

Vegeta's hard black eyes narrowed, and Bulma's face flushed scarlet at her words. She hadn't meant to say that. Really she hadn't. Vegeta's amusement drifted away, and his face set itself in stone. He released his erection, folding his arms behind his head. His biceps bulged, and she could see droplets of water gleaming off of them. With his arms lifted she had a perfect view of his sculpted chest and ribbed abs. His cock thrust up from the apex of his thighs, hard and uncompromising, just like the rest of his body.

"If you want to fuck so badly then fuck me," he taunted, his voice merciless. Bulma dragged her eyes away from his tempting flesh, locking with his dark gaze. She could see the challenge in the back of his eyes. He didn't think she was brave enough to take what she wanted. He thought she was weak. Her eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a hard line.

"Fine, I will," she spat with conviction as she shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it onto the floor. She undid her white silk blouse, ignoring the delicate ting of pearl buttons hitting the metal floor from her rough handling. She didn't care, the five hundred dollar suit could easily be replaced.

She watched Vegeta's face for any flicker of movement as she undressed in front of him. She unzipped her skirt, standing before him clad only in her lacy under things. His body was unmoving, cold and hard, like a bronze statue.

She dropped the rest of her clothes on the floor before him, suddenly ashamed to be naked in front of the uncaring man. Her blush never fully left her face, and before she could run away she stepped forward. She crawled onto the bed, her hand reaching out to touch his rigid stomach. He felt like she imagined, unyielding like the bronze statue she compared him to him, but burning hot. His warmth radiated out from him, melting her under its heat.

Her hand drifted down towards his throbbing cock, her mouth watering with the realization that she was finally going to taste him. She lowered her head, her hair still coiled at the base of her neck. He snatched her wrist away before she could reach him, his fingers banding around her like steel. He pulled her close, until she was precariously balanced on her knees, nose to nose, but not quite touching.

"Well get on with it woman, and fuck me," he snarled dragging her over his body so she had to straddle him to keep from falling.

Her lower lip extended into a slight pout as she was denied her treat. Vegeta had to clamp his own jaw together to keep from leaning forward to bite the luscious lip. He returned his hand behind his head, leaning back against the wall, to watch Bulma with hooded eyes.

Most of her weight was still on her knees, but Vegeta could feel the brush of her silky thighs against him. Her skin was cool and as smooth as porcelain. Her china alabaster flesh contrasted sharply with his rich caramel color, her delicate roundness softening the hard edges of his body.

She looked down for a minute, almost confused at what she should do. Vegeta ached to kiss the soft curve of her exposed nape and he almost flinched when he felt her cool fingers brush against him. She rose up, grasping him with one hand to position him at her entrance. She lowered herself, and he had to lace his fingers together when he felt his tip push into her heat.

Bulma was excited and scared. She was finally touching the aloof prince. She was going to fuck him, and that thought exhilarated her, but this wasn't quite what she had in mind. He still hadn't touched her, and he was keeping her contact with him to a minimal. His tip slid awkwardly into her, and she stilled, looking up at him. He was watching her with his unreadable eyes, his rock solid body completely immobile except for the slight flexing of his forearms.

She reached up, bracing both her palms on his wide chest, nearly sighing at the feel of his velvety skin encasing solid steel. She leaned forward, her eyes drifting closed as she pursed her lips for a kiss. A heartbeat before her lips touched his, she felt his strong fingers wrap around her wrists, pushing her away from his body. She opened her eyes to see that he had turned his face aside, leaving her to stare at his lean jaw.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye, his thick lashes nearly concealing the look from her.

"This is just a fuck, nothing more." He yanked her arms down , buckling her knees a little. She hissed at the burning sting of pain as she slid further down his staff, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You are too big," she whispered, her head dropping to stare at his stomach, unable to withstand the heat of his glare.

"You're too tight," his hissed back. Good Gods, was she tight. He felt like he was being squeezed by a satin gloved fist. He wanted to thrust all the way into her, to bury himself to the hilt but he restrained himself. He was going to teach this female a lesson, since no other male on this planet seemed capable of doing it.

Her body shuttered, and he tightened his grip on her wrists, nearly bruising her. He wanted to reach out and ease her pain, to relax her body so she melted around him. He knew by watching her each night where her hot spots were, and his mouth would find them easily. He wanted to hear her moan, but he was determined to follow his decided course.

"If you want to touch something so badly slave, I suggest you touch yourself." He thrust her hands back at her, releasing her to lace his fingers back behind his head again. Her body stiffened even more at his rejection, increasing her pain as her muscles tightened.

"I am not a slave," she growled back, but with a great deal less heat than in the past. The argument was getting old. He was never going to stop calling her that no matter how much she protested.

Vegeta's eyes glittered, his full kissable lips stretching into a feral grin. "You are my slave," he vowed with conviction.

"Never," she hissed back, gaining only a smirk for her efforts. She slid a little further down his shaft and her brow furrowed. He was so big, so incredibly thick that she didn't think she would be able to fit all of him. He was already stretching her to the limit, with barely a quarter of him thrusting inside of her.

Denied the satisfaction of touching him, she turned her hands on her own body. Her palms cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples into tight crowns. She leaned back, and Vegeta automatically brought up his knees to hold her in the cradle of his body. She rested against him, the heat in the center of her body building under her touch.

Bulma muscles loosened as she concentrated on her pleasure, instead of how uncomfortable the situation was. Her passage slicked, and Vegeta slid a little further into her, this time with a great deal less pain. Her pale hand slid down her body, her delicate fingers finding her already swelling clit.

Vegeta watched her touch herself. She lifted her breasts, her reddened nipples thrusting out between her fingers as her head lolled back on her neck. A pin fell from her hair, and one long blue lank uncurled from her coif. It fell across her shoulder, obscuring one nipple as it trailed down her stomach. The ivory paleness of her skin enhanced the blue of her hair, and Vegeta inhaled deeply trying to scent her expensive shampoo.

Bulma slid down his shaft, inch by agonizing inch, as her body accepted his intrusion. Her fingers teased her clit and Vegeta closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of her wet, hot body wrapped around him. Finally, her pelvis met his as she took all of him inside of her. Bulma sighed, her muscles tightening. He filled her to the brink, stretching her like no other, touching her very womb. Vegeta opened his eyes as she lifted her head to stare at him. He schooled his features into bland acceptance, enjoying the rage he invoked inside of the small woman.

She braced both her hands on his stomach, and he allowed her cool touch as she lifted herself from him only to slide down once again. He locked his teeth together, never breaking her challenging gaze. He kept his hands fisted behind his head, afraid that if he moved he would pin her down and give her exactly what she wanted.

Bulma's body relaxed, finding a torturous rhythm. He could feel every flutter of her clenching muscles as he slipped in and out of her with easy smoothness. She continued her pace for long moments, but his body didn't even tense with budding pleasure. Bulma could feel sweat trail from her hairline and down her back. Her thighs, toned from hours of aerobics were starting to tremble from fatigue. She dug her sharp fingernails into his midriff, frustrated that she was so close to getting what she wanted, but so far.

She could come, she could feel it, seething and burning, at the base of her stomach. Tremors of pleasure raced out from her core, infusing every cell of her body, but still she could not find the release that she wanted, that she needed. She leaned forward, intending to rub her entire body against the unyielding man in front of her.

His hands whipped out from behind his head, grasping her upper arms, holding her a hairsbreadth away from his heat. Her pleading sapphire eyes met his ruthless black ones and he almost relented.

"Please," she whispered against his mouth. Her nipples tingled they were so close to his chest and all she had to do was lick her lips to feel his.

"Please what, slave?" He whispered back, his clean, warm breath caressing her when nothing else would.

She ignored his slur, her entire body centered on one want, one need. "Please touch me."

"No." His harsh denial reached out and slapped her. Her bright eyes sparkled with tears, the sting of his rejection so great, that she almost didn't feel his fingers flex against her small biceps.

"Why?" she asked with a ragged breath. Her body rippled around his, and Vegeta called on his bone deep control of his body to remain impassive.

"Not until you ask properly." His black eyes bore into hers, and Bulma felt a chill go though her.

"Properly?" she asked, her head cocking to the side slightly. The end of her one loose tendril, trailed across his stomach, and his muscles contracted. Bulma licked her lips, deciding that she would say anything that he asked of her as long as he touched her, and she got to touch him.

"Say, please touch me, Master." His eyes met hers with deadly intensity, and Bulma couldn't stop her mouth from sagging open.

"No," she gasped with wide-eyed awe. His fingers tightened on her, and distantly, she was aware that she was going to have bruises in the morning. He thrust her away, his dark eyes seething.

"Finish up, slave. I'm nearly done with you," he snarled menacingly, and Bulma's body stiffened. She stilled over him, his thick flesh still thrust deeply inside of her, connected at the groin, their bodies one for an instant.

She stared hard at him, thoughts knocking around inside of her brain so quickly that she could barely make sense of them. Was she willing to do that? Was she willing to give up all her power, and utter a single word of submission? He mind drifted back to the women in the bathroom, and the one statement that stuck with her.

I bet she won't have sex unless she's the one doing the fucking.

Bulma looked down at their joined bodies. Bulma Briefs, always on top, always in control, always the one doing the fucking. Her fingers curled into fists on her thighs, as single tear streamed down her cheek. She felt Vegeta ripple beneath her, but she ignored it as she looked up into his impassive face.

She opened her mouth, gaped like a fish out of water, trying desperately to form the dreaded words on her tongue. Vegeta watched her, his eyes narrowing with intense interest. She was so beautiful, pale and perfect, perched on him like a queen. Her crystal tear cut a path of soulful anguish down her cheek, glittering under the harsh light. Her red lips parted as she tried to speak, her breasts heaving with her small panting breaths.

Sound started to form in the back of her throat, and Vegeta dragged his eyes back up to her face. Her lips closed then parted again, and Vegeta felt the air in the room dry up as he waited for her to speak with anticipation.

"Please," she started her eyes wide.

"Please touch me," she paused, and he could see the struggle inside of her, he could feel it in her body as it vibrated with emotion.

"Master."

The word hung in the air between them for a split second before Vegeta reacted. His black eyes lightened, and he moved so quickly, that Bulma gasped in fear.

His fingers found their way into her hair, pulling the pins from her coif painfully before he tightened his fist in the back of her skull. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her still as he flipped her violently beneath him, his entire body dominating her in one simple gesture.

Her head fell off the bed, her long hair trailing to the ground in a waterfall of blue. She sucked in air desperately, her mind overwhelmed by the sensation of Vegeta touching her everywhere. His thick cock was still thrust deeply inside of her, their flesh pressed together so tightly at the apex of their thighs, that it seemed impossible to be parted. His hands roved over her body endlessly, never idling too long in one place before moving on.

His lips swathed fire over her neck as he nipped and sucked her flesh until it was red. He lifted her breast with one hand so he could suckle her aching nipple, his hips thrusting tightly against hers. He drove into her with such force that she thought for sure she was going to split apart, her body shaking with each thrust. His mouth devoured her breast before moving on the next one, never slowing, never stopping. His other hand found its way between their bodies as he teased her clit, roughly caressing her with his fingers.

She was so overwhelmed that she could do no more than hold on to the animal she had unleashed with her simple words. And he was an animal, there was no doubt about that. Where he had been so completely unmoved before, now he was a firestorm of lust.

Her nails raked over his back, raising welts that he didn't even feel. Her legs wrapped around his hips, trying desperately to keep his frantic pace as he fucked her with a single minded intensity that was both erotic and frightening at the same time.

His hand pulled her hip up against his as he pounded into her. His mouth consumed her, and under her hands, she could feel his hard muscles flex with every thrust. She trailed her hands up his back to dig into his hair, pulling at his mane with more force than she would have ever dared with a human.

"Kiss me," she panted, the air knocked out of her with every motion of his body. Her eyes rolled back as the blood rushed to her head from hanging over the bed. The yellow light danced behind her lids as her lust grew into unimaginable proportions inside of her.

Vegeta could not be moved by force or word. He ignored her as he continued to fuck her without remorse, without quarter.

"Master." The word fell from her lips without thought. Her master. Her master of desire. She was merely a slave to his touch. "Kiss me."

His mouth left her breast, his hands sliding up her back and under her shoulders until his fingers curled into her hair to cup her skull, the weight of her body cradled his arms. His black eyes met her sapphire ones briefly, his body continuing to ram her unmercifully. She saw a flicker of something dark and foreboding in the back of his eyes before he dropped his head to brush his lips against hers. Instead of instilling fear in her, the mysterious look thrilled her beyond words. She saw want and possession in his eyes, and for the first time in her life she felt truly desired for herself, not for what she could do for others.

His tongue swept past her teeth, plundering her depths as if he was exploring her very soul. His fingers tightened in her hair as she fought to join the kiss, her own tongue sliding sinuously against his. They twined together, their lips moving across each others. He held her head still, dominating her body, mind and soul.

The coils of pleasure that had taunted her so horridly before, snapped and hissed with every invasion of her body. He was so deep inside of her that she could not imagine being separated from him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hips meeting his vigorously. The kiss continued and stars danced behind her lids from lack of oxygen.

Bulma's entire body clenched and she tightened her grip on his hard cock. A dam broke inside of her, sending her over the edge as she screamed into Vegeta's mouth. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her, drowning her in sensation as she fought to breathe. She dug her nails into Vegeta's back as far they could go, before drawing them down in bloody trails.

Vegeta's mouth parted from hers as he threw back his head in an animalistic roar of victory and pleasure. Her orgasm rocked her body with centripetal force that threatened to tear her apart. She could feel the hot spurt of Vegeta's seed as he released inside of her, his entire body rock hard over hers.

They shuddered together for long minutes, both coming down from their natural high. Bulma gasped for air and Vegeta lowered his head into crook of her neck. She wiggled a little, his weight becoming unbearable for her small frame.

"Vegeta," she whispered as she pressed her hand against his shoulder. Without a sound he lifted his weight from her, so she could sit up.

She dropped her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes trailing over her abandoned clothes that were littered over the ground. She felt the same mortifying heat crept up her body that appeared whenever she did something shameful. She had to get out of there. She had to leave before he said something to her that embarrassed or hurt her even more.

She braced her feet under her, pushing herself off the bed. She was half way up when she felt a shift of air behind her as Vegeta's fist wrapped itself in her hair to yank her back painfully. She yelped as she fell blindly onto the bed only to find her back flush against Vegeta's muscular torso.

His hot breath tickled her ear as he leaned forward to whisper to her. "I'm not done with you yet, slave." His arm tightened around her stomach as he lifted her up to fit her buttocks against his hips. She felt the hard thrust of his newly aroused erection against the soft curve of her hip, heating her blood.

She licked her lips, her fingers curling possessively around his thick arm. She felt all of her indecision melt away under the heat of his blatant desire. Later she would worry, right now she would feel.

She leaned back, her head finding the natural hollow of his shoulder. "Of course not, Master," she whispered back, her heart rate increasing as he began to touch her.