Master of the House by Justine Elyot Read Free Book Online Page B

was. But I wouldn’t have touched you, Lulu. You were far too sweet and innocent.’
    ‘Is that what you thought? Is that why you ended it? Is it?’
    ‘Perhaps it had a little to do with it.’
    ‘You twat. You had no idea who or what I was. I was just some kind of archetype to you – the naïve little village girl who would adore and worship you.’
    He stared at me.
    ‘You’re still very angry about all that, aren’t you?’
    ‘Damn right I am.’ I took a breath. I was trembling. ‘You had no idea,’ I repeated, working hard to get myself back under control. ‘No fucking idea at all.’
    ‘I know. It’s OK. I know that.’
    ‘Because I would have … for you. For me, too. I would have done all of this, and more. You say you couldn’t have touched me – what you did to me was
far
worse. Infinitely more painful.’
    He put the flogger into my hand and curled my fingers around the handle.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Take it out on me.’
    Suddenly I really wanted to kiss him. I wanted to offer to forget everything that had gone before and just push him down on the carpet and get him inside me. He reached a part of me nobody else ever had and I knew I would never be free of him. Why not just acknowledge it and throw my pride and all my fears to the wind?
    Just as my grip loosened on the whip handle, preparatory to putting my fingertips to his cheek, he broke our eye contact and replaced it with a nervous chuckle.
    ‘So, how do you want me?’
    ‘I don’t follow. I don’t know the form – you do. You’re going to have to help me out here.’
    ‘The point is, Lulu,
you
tell
me
what to do.’
    ‘Yes, but I don’t know how to do it.’
    He sighed.
    ‘Think of me, think of what I was like when I was nine. Be like that.’
    I really wasn’t sure I could do it, then all my memories of that time came rushing in at once and I knew I could. I owed it to that shivering, scared seven-year-old girl to make her bully understand the effect he’d had on her.
    ‘Get on your knees,’ I said, and he dropped at my feet before I’d even finished speaking. I looked down at the crown of his head, at his luxuriant dark hair. He wouldn’t be thinning any time soon. ‘I’m going to hurt you.’
    He said nothing, but bowed his head a little in acquiescence.
    ‘I’m going to do it,’ I continued, letting the strands drape over his shoulder before dragging them up his cheek, ‘but first I want to hear you beg me for mercy. Really beg me, even though it won’t have the slightest effect on what I do to you. I just want to hear it. No, don’t look at me,’ I said hurriedly, for he had raised his eyes to mine. ‘I can’t do this if you look at me. Keep your eyes on the floor.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, then he cleared his throat. ‘Erm. Please spare me, ma’am,’ he said. But he wasn’t taking it seriously enough, his manner overly theatrical.
    ‘That won’t do,’ I told him. ‘Plead.’
    ‘OK.’ He seemed to steady himself, furrowing his brow in thought. ‘What about … I beg you not to hurt me. I promise I’ll be good now. I’ll behave myself. I’ll do anything you want, anything you say.’
    ‘You’re not feeling it yet,’ I said. ‘You’ve forgotten, I suppose, how I used to cry and beg you to let me go. Have you?’
    ‘No. Of course I haven’t.’
    His voice was whisper-quiet.
    ‘So?’
    ‘So perhaps that place is too dark for me to go back to,’ he said.
    I gasped.
    ‘Too … are you serious? Too dark for
you
to go back to? Did you actually say that? Too dark for
you
?’
    ‘OK,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’m sorry. This wasn’t a good idea. There’s too much –’
    ‘Shut up,’ I said, lashing out to grab him by the wrist. ‘Shut up and bend over the bed. Now.’
    He thought he could get away with this, but he was dead wrong. I was going to calm my troubled spirit by thrashing his gorgeous arse until he begged me properly. I deserved this. I owed it to myself