Penny picked up a glass of white wine with a sigh. The reception had just begun but she was wondering if there was a way out. She wanted to get home. She had roughly eighteen hours before she was supposed to begin her rather odd training with Damon Knight, and she’d spent every spare minute reading up on the Internet about Dominance and submission.

She stepped behind one of the large potted palms decorating the space. Her aunt and uncle had spared no expense in celebrating their daughter’s wedding, but Penny couldn’t keep her mind on it.

What would it feel like when Damon Knight’s hands were on her body? She’d had one lover her entire life and they hadn’t exactly set the world on fire.

Damon was doing this for a mission. It wasn’t because he was desperate for her body. She had to remember that.

Still, every single word she’d read the night before made her scared. And every single word called to her.

She couldn’t be submissive. The images and words were playing through her mind even as she began to hear the conversations around her. Her family. They were a truly European family with members from across the EU. There were at least five different languages being spoken. Unfortunately, she understood most of them.

“Das arme Mädchen ist hübsch genug. Ich verstehe nicht, warum sie keinen Mann findet.”

Translation. The poor girl is pretty enough. I don’t understand why she can’t get a man.

Her aunt Angela. She was a widow who seemed to spend all her time gossiping and traveling amongst the family. And she almost always traveled with her sister, Aunt Edda.

“Nun, wenn sie einen Ehemann bekommen will, muß sie ein wenig abnehmen. Männer mögen keine beleibten Frauen.”

Translation. Well, if she wants to find a husband, she needs to lose some weight. Men don’t like portly women.

She moved away, walking toward the bar. It looked like she would need something stronger.

“Hän on ruumiinrakenteeltaan äitinsä kaltainen.”

Translation. She’s built like her mother, that one is.

“Ainakin Diana muistuttaa meidän sukuhaaraamme.”

Translation. At least Diana took after our side of the family.

Embarrassment flashed through her system. Two elderly women sat, hats perched on their silvery heads, drinking tea and gossiping about the people around them.

Gossiping about her.

Did anyone remember she spoke several different languages? Including the Finnish her father’s cousins were speaking now. She had a good mind to walk right up to them and tell them off in Finnish.

She turned away, catching sight of her sister and brother-in-law dancing together, smiles on their faces. George was standing next to his impossibly gorgeous boyfriend.

When she’d been a child, they’d called her a changeling. Diana and George were tall and statuesque. Penny had been short and could never get a handle on her weight. Her blonde hair kinked and never laid sleek and beautiful the way Diana’s did.

“The poor girl couldn’t even find a date.”

She didn’t need to translate that. It was spoken with a perfect British accent. Apparently her relatives didn’t think she could hear either.

She took a long drink and decided to head out. She smiled at the waiter who took her glass, but refused another. She didn’t have to stand there and take it. There was plenty to do at home. No one would miss her.

“Hello, Pen.”

She turned and Peter was standing there, looking at her, his blandly handsome face smiling down.

“Hello, Peter.”

He was dressed in a suit that was slightly too big for his lanky frame. There was not an ounce of muscle on Peter Bolling. Now that she really looked at him, he resembled a baby bird, his face soft and round, his body long and ridiculously lean.

She’d slept with him. She probably weighed more than him.

She was practically petite compared to Damon Knight.

His thin lips curled up in a semi smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” Polite. That was what she needed to be. She would be polite and he would go away.

Why on earth was he even here? She glanced around and realized the answer to her question. Beatrice wasn’t paying attention to her bridegroom. She was leaning in, whispering to her sister and pointing at Penny.

Bitch. She’d set up the meeting.

Penny had absolutely no idea why her cousin hated her, but Bea had worked hard to make her life as much of a living hell as possible. From childhood, the woman had teased and bullied her about everything from her weight, to the way she dressed, to her lack of a boyfriend.

So she gave Peter a brilliant smile. Well, she hoped it was. “You look good.”

If Bea thought she was going to break down, she was wrong. She had to be strong. She was going into the field soon. She couldn’t be some girl who cried the minute she saw her ex.

Now that she was standing here looking at him, she had to wonder why she’d ever cried over him. He’d been her fiancé, her only lover, and she hadn’t really thought about him in over a year.

He smoothed down the lapels of his suit. “Yes, well, I have been working out, you see. I’ve been promoted. And I suppose you heard about me and Susana.”

Susana Henderson? Her cousin? “No. I hadn’t heard anything.”

He flushed a bit. “Oh. I thought someone would tell you and all. Uhm. Susana and I are seeing each other.”

“We’re doing a bit more than seeing each other,” a saccharine-sweet voice said. Susana was tall, her blonde hair stick-straight and lush. She was always perfectly made up and dressed as though she’d walked off a fashion runway. “We’re getting married.”

She showed off a magnificent ring, at least two carats.

When they’d been engaged, he’d claimed she didn’t need a ring. He’d convinced her they should save their money in order to purchase a flat of their own.

She felt her face heat as she realized everyone was looking at her, whispering behind their hands. George was making his way toward them, a worried look on his face.

“Sorry you had to find out this way,” Susana said in a way that let Penny know she wasn’t sorry at all. “No one wanted to tell you. Everyone feels sorry for you because they know you can’t keep a man yourself, but I’m sick of not being able to celebrate. I’m not going to let you ruin my happy time.”

“Susana! Peter.” Bea made her way over, a sly smile on her face. “Oh, let me see that ring.”

Everyone knew Peter hadn’t bought a ring for her. That’s what they would all be talking about now. Poor Penny. She didn’t even warrant a ring from her fiancé.

“I’ll let you get on with it, then.” Penny took a step back, desperately wanting to get out of the situation.

Her heel slid on the marble floor, and before she could catch herself, she landed on her bum, her dress bunching around her knees.

Tears filled her eyes. Everyone was looking at her. She was a thirty-two-year-old woman, but in that moment she was back to being the awkward girl who watched as the world passed her by.

“Pen?” Her brother was suddenly at her side. “What the hell happened?”

Humiliation threatened to overtake her, but she tried to put a stupid smile on her face. “I just slipped. I might have rolled my ankle a bit.”

George got down to one knee. “Don’t move. Let Harry take a look at your ankle.”

Harry, George’s incredibly handsome boyfriend, was also a doctor. He dropped down beside her, pressing past the now burgeoning crowd. “Let me just check, Penny. It looks perfectly fine, but tell me if anything hurts.”

“Good god, who the hell is that?” George asked, his eyes wide. “Harry, you know I love you, but I’m afraid I’ve just seen an actual Greek god.”

Penny looked up as the crowd began to part, everyone looking to the new guy.

Damon Knight’s suit fit him perfectly, as though it had been custom made to fit his massive, muscled body. The dark suit contrasted with the pristinely white dress shirt and blue silk of his tie. Dark haired, with deep gray eyes, he didn’t walk into the ballroom. He strode in like a lazy panther looking about for his supper.

“That’s not a Greek god,” Harry said with a smile. “That’s sex on two legs, mate. If you can manage to sleep with that, I’ll high-five you. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s looking for a boy.”

Damon turned, his every movement graceful and masculine. His eyes searched the crowd, not paying a bit of attention to the stir he was causing. He ignored the women who sent him looks, brushed past the waiters. He was on the hunt. Damon Knight was looking for someone. He was looking for her.

His eyes flared when he finally found his prey, and she would have sworn she saw anger there. She was fairly certain it wasn’t directed toward her, but a nervous thrill flared up as he stalked across the ballroom.

“Hello, darling.” He reached out a hand. “Had I known you were going to be treated like this, I would have gotten here sooner.”

She was almost afraid to take that hand, but something about the deep quality of his voice had her moving before she could properly think it over. “I slipped.”

“Really?” George asked, getting to his feet. He stared Peter’s way. “It’s interesting that you tripped just as this arsehole shows up.”

“Oh, Georgie, you know Pen has always been a clumsy cow,” Bea said, her eyes not leaving Damon. “How do you know Penny?”

The humiliation didn’t seem to end today. She hadn’t wanted Damon to see her like this, to see how everyone viewed her. He would very likely rethink her place as his partner.

She expected him to help haul her to her feet, but he simply gripped her hand, leaned down, and picked her up in one strong move. He cradled her body to his chest. She clutched her purse, not wanting to drop it.

His eyes found hers, a startling heat in them. “Are you all right?”

She managed to nod. She’d never been held like this, up against a man, his strength bolstering hers. Being held by Damon made her feel petite, feminine.

Damon turned to Bea, cuddling Penny close. His voice was arctic cold as he replied. “I know your cousin because I’m her lover. I’m taking her to the washroom so I can make sure she isn’t hurt. When I return, I expect you to be pleasant and polite or we shall have a problem, you and I.”

Even Bea, known for being the Queen Bitch of the World, backed off.

Damon turned to Peter, who shrank back. “Seriously, Penelope? You almost married that?”

“We didn’t actually set a date.” There was a breathless quality to her voice. What the hell was happening?

“You couldn’t have handled her, little boy. Go home.” Damon walked off, carrying her toward the posh-looking set of washrooms.

Everyone was still watching her, wondering very likely if she’d paid an escort because there was simply no way they fit together.

“I’m fine, Mr. Knight.”

“Damon, darling. You call your lover by his Christian name. Unless we’re playing, and then you may call me Sir or Master. I would prefer Master. I won’t have time to earn the title with you, but it’s for the best.” He didn’t hesitate, simply moved toward where he wanted to go, and the crowds parted for him.

The way he said “lover” practically made her shiver.

He kicked in the door to the loo, though it was more a grand suite of rooms complete with six women standing in front of a mirror doing their makeup. “Out.”

“Damon, this is the women’s room.” Even as she spoke, the women were rushing to get out. One huffed and began to say something about rudeness. The look in Damon’s eyes had her fleeing like the devil was on her heels.

He set her on the counter top, her legs dangling, before he turned the lock on the door with a decisive click. He placed her purse on the settee opposite them. “Stay there.”

“Damon, you can’t just take over the loo.”

He walked back to the stalls, checking each to make sure they were alone. “I just did. As for selecting the women’s room, well, you’ve never seen a men’s room. Trust me. I made the right choice. Smells so much better in here. Do you want to explain to me why you were allowing that woman to humiliate you?”

“She’s my cousin.”

“That means she gets to behave like a horrible bitch around you? Thank god I don’t have any family.” He got to one knee and gently pulled her shoe off. The minute his big hand encased her skin in warmth, she shivered the tiniest bit. Harry had just done the same thing, but his hands hadn’t made her want to soften and curl up against him.

She had to be stronger than that. “What was I supposed to do, Mr…Damon? If I had said something back to her, I would have caused a bigger scene.”

He studied her ankle, turning her foot in his palm, and then lightly running his hands up her leg to her knee.

Thank god, she’d shaved. And why did having a hand on her leg seem to make her core heat and melt?

“Sometimes it’s all right to cause a scene. Life isn’t a series of polite encounters. She wasn’t playing nice, so why should you?”

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t possibly. She turned her mind to a more immediate question. “How did you find me?”

His hand moved to her other foot, as careful with this one as the first. “I tagged your mobile. I then did a complete analysis of you, your family, and your friends. According to your sister’s social media postings, there was a wedding today. Your raging-bitch cousin sent some of her friends e-mails detailing how much fun she was going to have with you and that they should watch to see how you embarrass yourself at this particular event. She thinks she’s going to Thailand for her honeymoon.”

He had the evilest smile on his face as he said the last bit. It made him look like a very gorgeous, ridiculously sexy devil.

It also frightened her a bit. “What do you mean she ‘thinks’ she is?”

And it was gone, replaced with what she was coming to think of as his “male model” smile. “Nothing at all. I wish her the best. So, we shall start your training today.”

“What? You said we would wait until Monday.”

“I said you had until Monday to say yes. You said yes yesterday. There’s no need to wait. I came to collect you.”

“Collect me? Am I going somewhere?”

“Oh, I’ve already moved you into my place.”

“You did what?” The question came out in a slightly panicked screech.

He sighed a little, his eyes hooded as though he expected a fight and wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. “I had a team go through your place, pack up your things, and move them to my club in Chelsea. The rest of the house is being moved to storage, and I already found you an estate agent.”

She shook her head. He was upending her life and he’d managed to do it all in a manner of hours. “You can’t just move me. And I already have an estate agent.”

“No, you had a front for the Ukrainian mob.”

“I did?”

“Yes, darling. You really need to let the tech boys do their job. I have them run searches on everyone in my life. By the way, your florist is dealing prescription drugs out of the back of her store. You buy a bouquet from her every Monday. Scotland Yard is raiding her tomorrow. The good news is, we have a very nice one in Kensington station. I’ll take you there on the way back home.”

He was missing the point. They hadn’t made this deal. “You can’t just walk in and move me.”

“I did. Actually it was rather difficult to figure which clothes were yours and which were your mum’s.”

“I already packed up Mum’s things.”

“Oh, well. Not a problem then. I was going to buy you new ones anyway. I’m going to kiss you now, Penelope.”

“What?”

“You seem to have an enormously hard time understanding me today. We’re going to have to work on our communication skills.” He moved right between her legs, spreading her knees and making a place for himself there. One minute she was utterly gobsmacked by the chaos he’d brought into her life in a couple of hours’ time, and the next, she couldn’t manage to breathe. He invaded her space, looming over her. Despite the fact that she was sitting on the counter, he still looked down at her. His hands slid her skirt up, making her gasp a little. “You said yes. That means you’re mine, Penelope. You’re my partner and my submissive. I take care of what’s mine.”

She swallowed, forcing herself to look into those stormy eyes of his. He was so close she could smell the scent of his aftershave, feel the heat his big body gave off. “For the mission.”

“I don’t know about that,” he returned, his voice deepening. “If this goes well, I get to go back out in the field. It’s always good to have a cover. Men are less threatening when they have a woman with them. If you like fieldwork, there’s no reason you can’t come with me. Especially if you’re properly trained. Tell me how much your siblings know.”

She shook her head before finally realizing what he was asking. His fingers worked their way into her hair, smoothing it back, forcing her to keep eye contact with him. “Oh, about work, you mean. Everyone in my family thinks I work for Reeding Corporation in their publishing arm. They think I translate books.”

Reeding Corporation was one of several companies that fronted for SIS. When she’d hired on, she’d signed documentation that stated she would never expose who she truly worked for.

“Excellent. If they research me they’ll discover I’m an executive at Reeding. We’ve been having an affair for the last three months. You were worried about your position at the company and the fact that I’m your superior, but I transferred to another department and now we’re free to be open about our relationship.”

“I don’t know that they’ll believe we’re lovers.”

“Of course, they will. I’m very persuasive, love. Now, I’m going to kiss you and I’m going to put my hand in your knickers. You are wearing knickers, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

He shuddered. “Not anymore. Knickers are strictly forbidden. I told you I would likely get into your knickers, but what I really meant was I can’t tolerate them and you’re not to wear them at all anymore. I’ve done you the enormous service of making it easy on you and tossing the ones you had in the house out.”

His right hand brushed against her breast. The nipple responded by peaking immediately, as if it were a magnet drawn to Damon’s skin.

“You can’t toss my knickers out, Damon. And you can’t put your hand there. We’re in the ladies’ room for heaven’s sake.”

“Here’s the first rule, love. Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” His mouth closed over hers, heat flashing through her system.

His mouth was sweet on hers, not an outright assault at first. This was persuasion. Seduction. His lips teased at hers, playing and coaxing.

And his hand made its way down, skimming across her waist to her thigh.

“Let me in, Penelope.” He whispered the words against her mouth.

Drugged. This was what it felt like to be drugged. She’d been tipsy before, but no wine had ever made her feel as out of control as Damon’s kiss.

Out of control and yet oddly safe. Safe enough to take a chance.

On his next pass, she opened for him, allowing him in, and the kiss morphed in a heartbeat from sweet to overpowering.

She could practically feel the change in him. He surged in, a marauder gaining territory. His tongue commanded hers, sliding over and around, his left hand tangling in her hair and getting her at the angle he wanted. Captured. She felt the moment he turned from seduction to Dominance, and now she understood completely why they capitalized the word. Damon didn’t merely kiss her. She’d been kissed before, casual brushes of lips to hers, fumblings that ended in embarrassment, long attempts at bringing up desire.

This wasn’t a kiss. This was possession.

He’d said she belonged to him for the course of the mission, and now she understood what he meant. He meant to invade every inch of her life, putting his stamp on her. If she proceeded, he would take over. He would run her life and she would be forced to fight him for every inch of freedom she might have.

“That’s right, love. You touch me. I want you to touch me. If you belong to me, then my body is yours, too.”

She hadn’t realized her hands were moving. She’d cupped his bum even as his fingers slid along the leg band of her knickers, under and over, tickling against her female flesh.

He’d said exactly the right thing. He hadn’t made her self-conscious. He’d told her he would give as good as he got. It wasn’t some declaration of love, but she’d had that before and it proved false. Damon Knight was offering her something different. He was offering her the chance to explore without shame.

She cupped Damon Knight’s arse and, god, it was a magnificent piece of work. Those cheeks were made of steel, but there was a bloody generous portion of them. She could sink her nails into them when he worked over her. Damon Knight likely wouldn’t tell her she was too rough with him the way Peter had.

She pulled back.

“What?”

“I just thought about Peter. He said I was too hard on him. I don’t mean to be.”

Damon’s face hardened, his eyes darkening. He pushed his pelvis forward, letting her feel every ridiculously long inch of his cock. “Don’t you hold back on me. Sex isn’t polite, Penelope. Sex is dirty and nasty and raw. I want you rough. I’m a bloody man and you’re going to treat me like one. And I’m going to show you just how much of a woman you are.”

His thumb slid over her clit, and she nearly screamed in pleasure.

Damon took the opportunity to forage deep. His tongue slid against hers. She let her hands cup that amazing bum of his even as his fingers played in her pussy.

Pussy. She couldn’t think of it as a vagina, and fanny seemed adolescent. It was a pussy and it was readying itself for Damon Knight’s cock.

“Do you like that, Penelope?” He slid his thumb back over her clit. “You seem to. You’re wet. Were you thinking of me before? Or were you thinking of him?”

“Who?” She seriously couldn’t think about anything except Damon. When she arched her back, she could feel the hard line of his erection against her belly. She hadn’t had sex in over two years, but now she was about to have at it in a washroom at her cousin’s wedding.

“Good.” His thumb stayed on her clit but his fingers parted her labia, teasing into her channel. “I want you focused on me. Tell me how it feels. Tell me what you like.”

She was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about what she liked to eat or watch on telly. “I don’t really know what I like, Damon.” She gasped as his fingers curled up inside her, stroking deep. “I like that. I really like that.”

He growled a little, pulling his fingers back out and then slowly, so slowly, pressing deep again. “You’re not a prude at all, are you? No prude gets so fucking wet in such a small amount of time. You’re soaking my hand.”

Embarrassment flared. “I’m sorry.”

He nipped her ear, a sharp tingly pain that somehow seemed to have a straight shot to her pussy. “Apologize again and I’ll spank you right here and now. Your pussy is hot and wet, and I like it that way. I’ll try to keep it that way as much as possible over the next few weeks. You read the materials I gave you?”

“Yes.”

He sighed and suddenly his fingers were gone, and she felt a flash of pain as he twisted her clit between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation flared and then she felt flush with heat and another wave of that wet arousal seemed to flow through her pussy.

“Sir or Master when we’re playing. I’ll give you a tweak every time you forget.”

“Yes, Master. I read it, Master.” He’d told her he preferred Master. She could barely speak because his fingers were teasing again, keeping her on the edge of pleasure. Even the pain threatened to send her over the edge. It wasn’t real pain, just a torture tactic to bring her more pleasure.

“And you respond beautifully to discipline, Penelope.” His mouth was right at her ear. “Do you understand why your pussy clenched down on my fingers when I nipped your ear?”

“Because the pain is tied to pleasure.”

“Because you’re submissive, love. Not just sexually.” His fingers found their way inside again, and she practically sighed. “You’re a soft little thing. You like to take care of the people around you. You’re that woman who remembers everyone’s birthday. You’re the one everyone cries to and complains to because you always listen. You’re the one who never asks for anything in return, but I’m going to teach you to ask me for this. You’re going to ask me to let you come, Penelope. You’re going to ask your Master to please fuck you with his fingers and toy with your clit and allow you to come all over his hand.”

“Please, Master.” Somehow with his hands playing her body like a finely tuned instrument, it didn’t seem wrong to ask him. It didn’t seem wrong to say dirty things and expect pleasure. He was right. She tried very hard to be everything to everyone, and most of the time they didn’t even think to invite her to the pub after work. She deserved a bit of pleasure. She deserved what he was willing to give her. “Please let me come. Please fuck me with your fingers and toy with my clit and let me come on your hand.”

The kiss he placed on her cheek was oddly tender, and she could feel him smile against her skin. “Very good, love. Your Master is pleased, and he will grant your very polite request. Come for me.”

His fingers curled up, one and then two taking up all the space. She felt filled and stretched as his fingers worked their magic. Over and over he plunged deep, fucking inside her as she pressed against him, begging for more.

His thumb pressed hard against her clit and she went flying. Pleasure pounded through her starting at her core and pouring through her body, making her blood sing, her skin come alive.

She was still shaking with it as he gently pulled his fingers out of her pussy and very deliberately brought them to his mouth. He sucked his fingers inside, licking off the arousal as his eyes watched her.

“You taste like sweet cream, Penelope.”

“Everyone calls me Penny.” It was stupid. He was licking her arousal off his skin and that was all she could think to say?

He took a step back and then turned on the water at the sink, washing his hands. “I’m not everyone. I’ll wait for you outside. Ditch the knickers, Penelope. You won’t want to wear them now. They’re soaked. I’ll know if you’re still wearing them and you’ll discover that not all discipline is about pleasure.”

She managed to nod.

He smiled, a simple turn of his lips that seemed to somehow light up the bloody room. “Now you look like a girl who just fucked her lover. That should make them believe our cover. I’ll meet you outside. Don’t take too long. I think we should have a dance before we leave. Explain to your siblings that we’re going on holiday in a week or so. We don’t want them to think you’re missing now, do we?”

He unlocked the door, and she was alone again.

Cover. He’d done it all to establish their cover. She’d just come apart in his arms and he’d been thinking about how best to fool her relatives.

The door opened again and Penny forced herself off the counter.

“What on earth?” Her elderly aunt frowned her way. She’d come in with three other relatives, all of them scowling in deep disapproval. “You look like a trollop, girl. Your whole generation has gone to the dogs. In my day, the washroom was for washing and other things that ladies do not talk about. It was certainly not for whatever that man was doing to you.”

Penny couldn’t help it. Laughter bubbled up. She was thirty-two and finally getting lectured on how immoral she was.

It was a new day. Penelope Cash was a bad girl. Penelope Cash was Damon Knight’s girl.

Even if only for a while.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Aunt Edith.” Right there in the middle of the posh loo, she wiggled out of her very soaked knickers. “I’m not allowed to wear these.”

“Good god!”

She tossed them in the trash, collected her purse and walked out, her head held high.