My Control by Lisa Renée Jones Read Free Book Online

room. I swallow hard and move forward. At the entryway I freeze, finding Mark standing in the center of a room with curtains surrounding what looks like another archway leading to a room meant for bondage.
    I was right. The Master is here—and he’s the man that I’ve been avoiding. The man who is everything that I do not want.

    Mark
    Crystal stands in the doorway, looking tired, worried, and beautiful. The spike of desire I feel is instant, and I want it to be about sex, about escape, and the control this club has always been for me. But here, now, tonight, it is not. It’s about something more she stirs in me—something Rebecca stirred in me that I never saw. It’s the way Crystal both soothes my raw nerves and awakens the man in me all at once simply by entering a room. I tell myself my reaction is my rebounding after the loss of Rebecca. There’s no other explanation and to use her in a such a way is unfair, and damaging in a way she doesn’t deserve, as is my need to grab her and hold her and ride out this storm with her in my arms.
    “Come here,” I order Crystal softly, aware of the trepidation on her face, in her eyes, aware I’m about to give her reason for those feelings.
    She crosses her arms defensively beneath her breasts. “I think I’ll stay here. What happened with Ryan?”
    “We talked.”
    “And?” she prods, pushing the way she pushes, without limits.
    “And come here, Ms. Smith,” I command, preparing to show her limits, and to do so in a way I’d never do to a submissive in training. But then, I’m not training Crystal. I’m driving her away.
    “I know what you’re doing,” she snaps.
    “My playroom. My rules. Come here and explain yourself.”
    “Explain myself? Sure.” She starts forward, long strides carrying her toward me, as she adds, “And you can explain yourself.” I meet her in the middle of the room, standing toe to toe with her as she continues. “You can’t go after Ava and Ryan. Think of your family.” She wraps her arms around me, defying every rule of this room. “Please. Please don’t do it. There are other ways.”
    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why does she feel soft and still so right, when she’s supposed to be wrong? “I don’t want to talk about Ava or Ryan.” I slice my fingers into her hair, rough by intent, yanking her face to mine. “Why do you think I came here? I want to forget right now. And for me, fucking is forgetting. And not your way—fucking my way. Get down on your knees.”
    She pales, and the look in her eyes confirms everything I’ve suspected. Her need for control is a way to hide from something, and I want to know what. Yet I never ask a submissive what they want to escape; I just make sure they do.
    “No,” she says. “I told you. I won’t do this. It’s not me.”
    “But it is me. You want me, you want this. And you’d better prepare yourself. I’ll force you to stop running from whatever you’re running from, and in the process I’ll make you cry. I’ll make you hate me. But you’ll face it, and you’ll be glad you did.”
    A stricken look washes over her face and she flattens her hands on my chest. “I’m not running. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “You are, and you do. You’re more transparent than you think, Ms. Smith. And you are nowhere as near as strong as you pretend to be. You’re a weak shell about to break.”
    She starts to tremble in my arms. “I know what you’re doing. I read the journal. You made her feel vulnerable when you felt vulnerable. Well, guess what? You want to be with me? You have to be vulnerable with me.”
    I set her away from me. “You read Rebecca’s journal?” I demand, anger sliding through me. I’m not sure why, or even if it’s at her.
    “I thought it was part of the files you left for me, and I only read the first entry.”
    I know that entry all too well. That’s when he takes me to the club; that’s when he takes me places he knows I don’t want to