Goosebumps rose on Sasha’s skin. Tears welled in her eyes. Emotional overload. She didn’t want to cry in front of him and appear weak. She needed a few minutes alone.

She was cold. Frustrated. Grasping for sanity. Confused. It wasn’t that he’d done anything to specifically cause her to feel so unbalanced. It had snuck up on her.

Suddenly, she felt the tight rein she had on her emotions begin to reach a breaking point. She wanted to rush into his space, scream, demand he say something. Anything. She needed him to hold her.

Exhaustion set in even though she’d taken a long nap and then been bathed without lifting a finger. Mental exhaustion from trying so hard to please Lincoln and feeling the weight of failure. Was he mad because she’d spoken out of line, cussed, touched her nipple? He didn’t look mad. He was just… waiting.

He knew she had no experiences like this—not just with a Dom but with any man. He was the first to see her naked, and he’d bared her to the point that she felt more exposed than just naked. As if he’d also removed her skin. She’d given him everything, leaving herself raw.

She wanted to speak, ask questions, sob out loud.

Maybe he was disappointed in her. The idea made her chest tighten since all she wanted to do was please him. His silence was poignant though.

She decided to try again. “Sir, I—”

“Sasha,” he warned, her name sharp on his tongue.

She started to fidget. Knowing he was staring at her threatened her sanity. Her breasts were high and swollen, her nipples sharp points from the cold and the stress. Even her sex was exposed.

She was not aroused. She was annoyed. Whatever he was doing, it was starting to piss her off.

“You’re shaking with frustration,” he pointed out. At least he spoke.

“Yes, sir.” She kept her head bowed.

“Being submissive sometimes means following orders without explanation.” He pushed off the edge of the vanity and sauntered closer, circling her. Stalking her. Annoying her.

Seconds ticked by. Maybe minutes. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

He stood behind her for a long time, making so little noise she considered the possibility he’d slid into another dimension. As her body adjusted to the temperature and the moisture on her skin dried, she was no longer freezing, but her anger grew by the second.

What the fuck is the point of this?

Was he waiting for her to do something?

It was like a standoff. And she was losing. Finally, she couldn’t take another second and she dropped her form entirely, spun around, and faced him. “What the hell do you want, Lincoln?” Her chest was pounding. If he was testing her, he won.

He lifted a brow. “Safeword?”

She shook her head. “You wish.”

Without a word, he set his hand on her shoulder and ran it down her arm until he held her wrist. He guided her from the bathroom and out of the bedroom. She hadn’t been able to read his expression at all.

At least they were leaving the bathroom. She had been close to losing her mind standing there. She wished he would say something. Anything. There was a total disconnect that unnerved her.

She was shivering again. Her hair hung in long wet ringlets down her back, not helping matters. The house probably wasn’t that cold, but the chill she felt was more from frustration than from temperature.

They entered the family room. The sun was still out, but it had moved across the sky to the other side of the house, leaving the backyard in a glow of evening colors. It was beautiful. She could stare at it for hours.

But apparently not right now. Her breaths were coming in short sporadic bursts as she worried about what his next move would be. Would he make her leave even though she hadn’t used her safeword? Maybe she had blown this entire arrangement with her outburst and he would take her home and declare her unfit to be submissive.

Shit, maybe he was right. At this point, she wanted to haul off and slap him. She was no longer about to cry. She was furious.

Lincoln led her to the opposite side of the room next to the entertainment system. He kept walking until they were standing in the corner with no place to go. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted to do there. Nothing was nearby. Not even furniture.

She took several deep breaths, forcing her hands to remain at her sides to avoid taking a swing at him. She pursed her lips to keep from yelling at him and making things worse. She needed to regroup and think before she spoke again.

When he released her hand and stepped behind her to set his palms on her shoulders, she began to worry. And rightfully so. He angled her toward the corner. “Hands clasped behind your back.” His voice was matter of fact. Soft. Giving nothing away.

She grabbed one wrist with the opposite hand at her lower back. And then he guided her the rest of the way into the corner. Oh God. Oh God.

One hand slid from her shoulder to the back of her head. He angled her face toward the floor. “Lean on your forehead. Nipples to the wall. Feet wider.” He stuck a knee between her thighs and nudged them open.

She couldn’t breathe. Her body went limp, totally flattened to the wall in the awkward position. There was no way to balance, so she gave in and pressed her breasts and even her belly into the corner.

His lips came closer to her ear. “Wider, Sasha. I want your pussy open and exposed so you have something to think about while you stand here.”

She whimpered involuntarily while she spread her legs wider. Obscenely wider. Oh my God.

“That’s a good girl.” He released her. “Perfect form. Don’t move. Thirty minutes.”

And then he was gone.

She tried to inhale, but only managed to sob. A time out? Is that what this was? A time out?

So matter of fact. Not a single mention of her outburst. She hadn’t managed to get him to break from his dominant stance. Nope. Instead, she’d earned herself a time out.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

She really needed to stop thinking that word at all. Obviously she was unable to keep it from slipping past her lips. And why did he care if she—a grown woman—occasionally used that simple four-letter word? It wasn’t like she cussed like a sailor. It was one small word. She never said fuck. Or even damn usually. Just shit. Was it that bad?

Jesus, Sasha, who cares about your damn cussing?

She was cold. Apparently he didn’t care. It was probably part of his plan.

This was too much. She hadn’t signed up for this kind of treatment. It was abasing. She didn’t want to stand in this corner. She also didn’t have to. She could use her safeword. Turn around, face him head on, and say red. And then she could flee the room, find something in her suitcase to wear, and get the hell out of his house.

No. She mentally shook her head. Don’t move. Don’t move a single muscle. She was not going to give up. She came here to prove something to herself and to Lincoln. That she could submit to him. He wasn’t hurting her. He hadn’t hurt her at all physically. The last half hour had been emotionally challenging. Nothing else. Maybe even intentional.

Had he pushed her to get her to break form so he could punish her?

She realized the two of them had conflicting goals. She wanted to prove she could be his. He wanted to prove she wasn’t submissive and get her to use her safeword. She would not give him that satisfaction. She was stronger.

She’d come to his home to learn to be submissive. For him.

That wasn’t his aim, of course—at least not verbally. He insisted he was training her to prepare her for another Dom. Not him. That infuriated her every time he reminded her.

Why? Why couldn’t he see that she wanted him? Not someone else.

Maybe he doesn’t see you that way, Sasha. Did you ever think of that?

She shook the annoying thought from her head. No. He wasn’t just a firm and angry Dom. He had other sides to him. He was also kind and caring.

She inhaled deeply several times to calm her nerves.

It was humiliating standing in this corner like a naughty child.

Isn’t that what you are, though?

She had let him down. She had let herself down. She had misbehaved. Tested him. Even sparring with him verbally when he told her not to. He’d warned her he would be firm and strict if she didn’t follow the rules. He hadn’t minced words.

He had told her to obey his commands immediately without question. And yet, she’d lost her patience and blatantly disobeyed him.

She was pissed. Half at herself for letting him treat her like this and half at… well, herself again for doing the things that earned her this time out. Shit. I mean, darn.

How long had she been here? Two minutes? Twenty? She had no idea.

He was throwing everything at her at once. So many things in one day. Why? She knew why. He wanted her to safeword. She would not. She might have lost it there for a while after her bath, but she was pulling herself back together.

Noises behind her told her Lincoln was in the kitchen. Maybe cooking. When the smell of red sauce hit her nose, she sighed. Something Italian. Her stomach growled.

Again she wondered if he intended to do all the cooking while she did nothing but look pretty? This wasn’t how she pictured D/s. She’d read about submissives servicing their Doms. Wasn’t that what he would expect?

The clock kept ticking. Surprisingly she wasn’t uncomfortable. She wouldn’t want to stand like this for hours, but putting the majority of her weight on her forehead, chest, and belly made it tolerable. Her sex was exposed, making it difficult for her to ignore its existence. And her butt still burned from earlier.

As time wore on, she calmed herself. In a way, this was a blessing. It gave her a chance to remind herself of her goal. She could do this. He wasn’t hurting her. He would never hurt her. He’d promised. And besides, she knew better. Injury wasn’t a concern in her mind.

It was just a time out. It hurt her heart because she hated disappointing him. But had she disappointed him? He’d gotten weird on her after the bath. Switched his mood to quiet brooding. She got the impression he was pulling out all the stops to get her to safeword. What would he do next? Chain her to the wall in a dark room?

Deep breaths. The time out was humiliating. But no harm was done. And she had to admit she’d learned a lesson, even if that lesson was simply to never put herself in a position to warrant a time out.

She could do better. She could do this. For him. For herself. He wouldn’t break her. No matter how hard he tried. And she now had no doubt his main goal was to get her to break and give up the idea of being submissive. It was possible her brother had even put him up to it.

She would not give up. She would win.