Read Missionary Position (Masters of the Prairie Winds Club Book 7) for Free Online Page A

closing. He stepped to the side and pressed a small recessed button she’d never noticed before. Two toeholds emerged from the floor and a series of what looked like gold towel bars at various heights slid into position from a panel along the sidewall of the elevator. Turning to her he simply said, “Remove your shoes.” She felt her body respond, but when she saw the hard look in his eyes, she took an involuntary step back. Fischer didn’t say anything, he simply leaned back in a deceptively casual pose, crossing one ankle in front of the other and hooking his thumbs just inside the front pockets of his slacks. She studied him as well, there wasn’t anything threatening in his body language, simply raw desire and steely determination. Lara took a deep breath hoping it would infuse her with the courage she was suddenly lacking as she slowly unbuckled the ankle straps of her stiletto sandals. Bending down, she picked them up and then held them out to him.

    Fischer wasn’t sure a woman’s simple act of trust had ever affected him more. He’d seen the indecision in her eyes and had practically been able to feel how torn she’d been downstairs. He would bet his inheritance the shock had been wearing off and she’d already started feeling guilty—playing every possible scenario over in her mind and always coming back to the erroneous conclusion that if she’d been with her parents this wouldn’t have happened. And even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her, that wasn’t what she needed . Right now the beautifully bare submissive standing in front of him needed to be reminded that she was right where she belonged. She needed to know he and his brother would protect her even when it conflicted with what she thought she wanted. And she needed to feel the safety in consistency, and that meant holding her accountable for her behavior and following through on the punishment she’d earned.
    Fischer had learned a lot during the time he’d worked for Cameron Barnes, the man might not have Fischer’s ability to hear the thoughts of those around him, but Cam was the most intuitive Dom Fischer had ever met. The man known as Master C had taken Fischer under his wing and mentored him, teaching him that there were times the words moving through someone’s mind were often little more than self-talk and therefore not entirely reliable measures of their true feelings. Recognizing the difference between what someone told themselves they should want and what their body craved was the difference between meeting the submissive’s needs and just fucking—the difference between pushing a sub’s boundaries to broaden their horizons and simply achieving the satisfaction of having power over another person.
    Stepping forward to take the shoes from her trembling fingers, Fischer wrapped his hand over hers, holding her hand and her gaze for several seconds before speaking. “Do you trust me, baby? Do you trust me to give you exactly what you need ?” He’d deliberately emphasized the word need, because he had no intention of giving her what she wanted—no, this was all about what she needed to still the turmoil he could see quickly overwhelming her. In that moment, Fischer had never been more grateful for the time Cam had spent tutoring him because every nuance of Lara’s body language was practically shouting her need and Cam had taught him how to recognize all the signals. Taking her dress had exposed her physically, but he’d known taking her shoes would make her feel a whole new level of vulnerability—it was part of the reason subs were rarely allowed to wear shoes in the club.
    Lara’s sky-blue eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Fischer watched her fight to pull herself out of the mental fog she was battling just enough to put on a brave face. “Yes, Sir, I trust you.” So brave, but so fragile at the same time. Was it any wonder she enthralled him? Everything