Lincoln was struggling to find his speech almost as badly as Sasha. He’d been watching her for almost an hour as she observed the flogging and the cropping and a spanking and then followed this stranger to the St. Andrew’s cross. He couldn’t believe how readily she’d agreed to do a scene.

With a total stranger.

Granted, Lincoln knew the man. If he hadn’t been well-acquainted with Master Colin, he never would have permitted Sasha to do something so foolish. But under the circumstances, since Lincoln’s main goal was to get Sasha to give up this ridiculous interest in BDSM, he forced himself to hang back and watch.

Lincoln also knew he wasn’t being fair. He definitely felt a double standard when it came to Sasha that he’d never felt toward any other submissive, male or female. Except Sasha was not a submissive.

Master Colin had done nothing wrong. He’d followed every proper protocol, taking things slowly, reassuring her, giving her a safeword, checking in often. There was no way he could have read the apprehension Lincoln saw on Sasha’s face.

For one thing, Sasha had hidden her expression with her hair. For another thing, she’d schooled her voice to give nothing away every time she answered him. She’d even managed to keep her body relatively loose. She had done her research, knew what to say and how to act. But she hadn’t been able to anticipate her reaction.

What made her jump out of the scene? Was it the spanking? Lincoln didn’t think so. Master Colin hadn’t struck her any harder that last time than the previous swats. No. It was something else that triggered her. Maybe it was the clothes she’d worn? Or the position stretched out on the cross? Or had something flashed through her mind at that precise moment to set her off?

Lincoln could kick himself for waiting about two seconds too long to intervene, but on the other hand, no actual harm was done to her, and he had to hope she’d received enough of a jolt to give up this foolish desire to join a club.

Master Colin stood behind her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He was about to speak when Lincoln shook his head, cutting him off. He would assure the man he’d done nothing wrong later. For now, he just wanted him to back off.

Master Colin nodded and turned away, his expression filled with concern.

A petite blonde woman rushed forward from behind Sasha next, her brow furrowed. She wore the red band of the dungeon monitors. As she opened her mouth to speak, Lincoln shook her off also, hoping he communicated he had things under control with his gaze.

The blonde hesitated, frowning, not backing off.

Sasha set her forehead against Lincoln’s chest and fisted his T-shirt in her hands at his sides. Her shoulders heaved. She was crying.

His chest seized. Dammit. Without thinking, he leaned down, swept her small body into his arms, and cradled her against his chest. With a nod to the blonde monitor, he spun around and headed to the aftercare room.

Seconds later, he was seated on a leather couch, Sasha’s sweet body across his lap, her face still buried in his chest. He was relieved no one else currently occupied the room.

He tugged a throw blanket off the arm of the couch and wrapped it around her. If nothing else, at least he wouldn’t have to continue to stare at her sexy body in the skimpy outfit she wore. When had she purchased fetish wear?

Tonight she was not presenting herself as someone who taught preschool by day and hung with her girlfriends or her brother in the evenings. Tonight she was a sexy vixen who had turned the heads of everyone in the club. Not that she didn’t also draw an equal amount of attention in her usual innocent attire.

Lincoln had to get a grip on his growing erection before she realized what was pressing against her thigh. Dammit. This was not happening to him. He was here to rescue his friend’s sister, not lust after her.

Surely his attraction had nothing to do with Sasha herself and everything to do with how she’d so innocently watched the flogging scene with wide eyes and pink cheeks, her arm crossed over her breasts to pinch off the swell of her nipples.

He’d nearly choked watching her react to the scene.

Yeah. He’d missed nothing. He wasn’t sure he’d even blinked from the moment she’d entered the main room of the club.

When she’d moved toward the man wielding the crop, she’d tensed, flinched, closed her eyes. She had not been turned on. Her ardor had completely tamped down.

And then the spanking scene. It had been mesmerizing watching her entire demeanor switch back to curious as she loosened her frame and eased her legs apart. She undoubtedly had no idea she’d done so.

Meanwhile, Lincoln’s cock had stiffened so hard it probably had zipper grooves along it. She was such an open book, her every reaction etched on her face. The way her cheeks pinkened or turned completely white. The way her eyes went wide or narrow. So expressive. So damn sexy. So innocent.

That innocence was what fueled him to protect her. She didn’t belong in this world. Had she figured that out? He hoped so. Maybe she was titillated by it, but she needed to flush it out of her system and move on. Hell, he needed her to flush it out of her system and move on.

Lincoln knew Marcus well enough to know that he ran the same tight ship as Lincoln. He would be aware of everything and ensure that nothing got overlooked. In fact, the owner of Breeze leaned into the room at that moment as if he’d read Lincoln’s mind. He would probably be grateful Lincoln had been there to save Sasha from her foolish self so he didn’t have to deal with her himself.

Lincoln gave him a nod, letting him know he had it under control.

Marcus’s eyes were drawn together, but his shoulders relaxed as he turned around and left them alone. It was early still by club standards. Most scenes were just getting underway, which meant few people would be seeking the solace of aftercare for a while.

Lincoln had never had this much contact with Sasha. She’s in my lap. I’m holding her entire body. He could count the number of times he’d touched her on one hand, starting with the night he’d met her and taken her hand in his.

Not to say he didn’t remember that moment five years ago. He did, with perfect clarity. He’d been drawn to her from the instant he’d entered the room. He’d known she was Rowen’s sister. He’d also known Rowen was twenty-seven. At no point did it occur to him that his sister was ten years younger than him.

For the rest of Lincoln’s life, he would regret the way he so rudely reacted to finding out she was seventeen. He’d hurt her. Badly. There was no doubt. He’d also looked like an ass in front of everyone in the room who had become his employees that day.

He could only explain his behavior as a reaction to shock and disappointment at finding out Sasha was not only underage, but knew nothing about the lifestyle.

Lincoln himself had only been twenty-five that day, but he’d lived enough life for a forty-year-old man, and he knew several things for certain—one of which was that he was a sadist. He enjoyed helping submissives find release through various levels of pain. He was well-known in the club and even in Miami for his play with masochists at whatever level they needed. Both women and men came to him to get their fetish fulfilled.

That was just where his interest lay. His kink ran deep. His desires unwavering. He’d known it was his calling since he was seventeen and sneaking into a club he had no business attending. The same age as Sasha had been when he acted like she was a child and chastised her verbally in front of everyone. But dammit, it was different for her. She was innocent. She’d become a preschool teacher for fuck’s sake.

Sure, he knew half his issue with Sasha was aggravation with himself for not only lusting after her that first day but not being able to shake the desire in all these years.

The truth was, Lincoln was a sadist who needed a masochist in his life to fulfill him.

Sasha Easton would never be that woman.

She was the polar opposite. Soft and gentle. Loving and sweet. Maybe she could dabble in the fringe of the fetish world for an hour or two with the right partner, but she was no masochist. And she would scream and run if she had any idea what sort of fantasies he had. Several of which revolved around her.

His fantasies were just that—day dreams. Nothing more. Visions of Sasha on her knees submitting to him had plagued him for too many years.

The woman had some sort of hold on him he couldn’t shake. But he’d never act on it. Never mention it to a single soul. He couldn’t. She wasn’t right for him. He certainly wasn’t right for her. She was nothing more than a cute girl with a hot body which he had twisted into something totally unobtainable in his mind. In fact, he had intentionally never permitted himself to get to know her over the years in order to keep the driving need to own her at bay.

Own her? That thought scared the fuck out of him. He didn’t own anyone. He played. He dominated. He sent his submissives home. He didn’t keep them. He couldn’t. His twisted needs wouldn’t jibe with anyone else’s. Especially not Sasha’s.

The bottom line was he was selfish. He could not have her for himself, and he couldn’t bear the idea of watching her submit to another Dom, so he needed her to get this idea out of her head and move on to live a nice vanilla life.

Admittedly, his thoughts confused him. Visions of Sasha were unlike any other images he had for other women. They made no sense. They boggled his mind. He’d pushed them aside. Every time. For years.

He squeezed his eyes closed and forced himself back into the moment, stroking his hand over the soft skin of her arm while holding her lower back to keep her from slipping out of his grasp.

“Sasha?” he whispered as he smoothed his hand up to her shoulder and out from under the blanket to cup her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? Jesus.

She shook her head, burrowing tighter against him. “I’m so stupid,” she muttered. “What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking you wanted to see what all the hype was about. It’s natural. You were curious.” He nudged her chin again, but she didn’t budge. “You were also lucky. If I hadn’t been here, you would really be in a bind right now.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Master Colin could have handled things. He was a seasoned Master. He would have stopped the scene immediately and been sitting where Lincoln was right now.

Lincoln gritted his teeth at the idea of Colin holding Sasha or even touching her skin. It had been hard enough to watch the man stroke her arms and shoulder. Lincoln had nearly slammed a fist into the wall when Colin had lifted her skirt, exposing the bottom swell of her cheeks.

Sasha shuddered, her fingers finding his T-shirt and fisting the cotton again. “You knew I was going to be here.”

He could barely hear her. “Yes.”

She groaned, lifting her face finally. “Rowen’s going to kill me when he hears about this.”

He shook his head, meeting her gaze. “No, he isn’t. He won’t even know.”

She lifted her brows.

“I mean, he knows you’re here, but he doesn’t have to find out the details.” He wanted to wipe that frightened look from her face. He wanted to kiss her forehead. Hell, he focused on her full pink lips and considered kissing her right on the mouth.

Lord, Lincoln. Get a fucking grip.

She calmed slightly, swallowing. Her face was streaked with tears.

Lincoln lifted his hand and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. He needed to administer aftercare like he would with any sub. “Talk to me about what happened in there, sweetheart.” Jesus, fuck, Lincoln, stop using that endearment.

She suddenly stiffened, her eyes wide. “Oh God. Do you think I messed up anyone else’s scene? How loud was I?” She bit her lower lip, her face changing to one of concern and worry.

Here she was recovering after probably the most embarrassing moment in her life, and she was worried about other people?

Lincoln had to swallow his own emotions. Sasha Easton was an absolute angel. Her heart was golden. Her soul was so open and kind.

“Sweetheart, stop worrying. No one noticed. You weren’t nearly as obvious as it must seem.” He stroked his fingers through the hair at her forehead.

“What about Master Colin? Will he get in trouble or something?”

Lincoln shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to him. Explain things.”

She trembled. “Can’t you just take me home?”

He smiled, cupping her face again and then easing his hand to the back of her neck to thread his fingers in her thick curls. They were as soft as he’d always imagined. Thick. Lush. He held still to keep from stroking his fingers through them. “Yes. After you talk to me. Surely you’ve done enough research to know a good Dom always guides his sub through the proper amount of aftercare.”

“You’re not my Dom,” she pointed out.

He had to give her credit for being quick and sharp after her crying jig. “True, but I’m the Dom currently holding you in my lap. I’m also the Dom who is going to talk you through your reaction to that scene.” Until you realize you aren’t cut out for the lifestyle and stop trying to play in clubs while giving me a heart attack.

She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “It’s no big deal. I shouldn’t have rushed things. I panicked.”

“When Master Colin spanked you? Was the swat too hard?” He knew it wasn’t.

“No.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the spanking. That part felt sort of clinical. I think… I think it was the way he lifted my skirt.” She dipped her face from his view. “I didn’t like thinking other people in the room could see my bare butt.”

He stared at the top of her head, shocked. And damn, kinda glad. At least he wasn’t the only one in the room who thought her naked body shouldn’t be ogled by other people. Why, big guy? You want to be the only one who gets to see her naked? No. Fuck no. He couldn’t go there. No one should be ogling Sasha naked. Especially not him.

However, maybe she was seeing the light. He could work with this. Convince her to give up this obsession.

She continued, “I guess I wasn’t ready for that. Hadn’t prepared myself mentally to be naked in public. I’ll be more careful next time. Take it slower. Maybe watch for a few more weeks before I try to do a scene myself.”

“Next time?” He spoke louder than he’d intended.

She lifted her face and furrowed her brow. “Yes. Please tell me you didn’t come here to talk me out of joining a club or hoping I would work it out of my system.” She pushed against his chest and leaned back, crossing her arms in a way that only drew more attention to her cleavage.

Lincoln swallowed, forcing his gaze from her chest to her eyes. Normally he enjoyed more than a handful of a woman’s boobs. But somehow Sasha’s smaller breasts were making his mouth water. “Of course not,” he lied. “I came here to make sure you were safe. I told you that.”

“My brother sent you.”

“No. I volunteered.”

She gave another dramatic eye roll, which pushed him over the edge.

He grabbed her chin and waited until she looked him in the eye. “If you roll your eyes like that again, you’re going to get a much better taste of what it feels like to have your bottom spanked than what Master Colin demonstrated.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. His cock was also fully erect and insistent. Fuck.

Neither of those reactions were common for him. He was always in control of his words and his dick. Always. Or he had been until tonight.

Sasha’s face turned bright red and her eyes went wide. She didn’t say a word.

Damn if he didn’t wish she would test him. Somehow he knew she would not freak out at the touch of his hand on her bottom the way she had with Colin. Shit.

“You with me?” he demanded, again without properly filtering his words.

“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed.

He stopped breathing. Holy mother of God. Those two words, spoken to him from the lips of this sweet, innocent angel threatened to make him come in his jeans without contact.

He never reacted like that to a woman. Never. The dominance he practiced was separate from his sexual needs. What was this little minx doing to him?

He forced himself to pull it together, taking a second to give himself a pep talk. He didn’t have the luxury of glancing away or closing his eyes. Nope. Because this sweet newbie was still staring at him with her wide gaze and questioning looks. Her breaths were shallow. Her face red. Her chest rose and fell, her breasts lifting with every movement.

He needed to get her to talk about the scene some more. Work it out. He understood the exposure, but that was the last straw. She had been stiff the entire time. “Now, tell me what you felt when Master Colin spanked you, before he lifted your skirt, I mean. What did you mean by clinical?” He’d watched the way she grew more and more uncomfortable with each swat of Colin’s hand. It wasn’t like Colin had hit her hard. There already wouldn’t be any evidence of his palm print.

Not that Lincoln intended to see for himself.

She licked her lips and chewed on the bottom one a moment before answering him. “I didn’t feel connected to him, I guess. I was sort of out of my body. Like it was happening to someone else. It didn’t hurt or anything. I just didn’t want…”

He waited, and when she didn’t continue, he prompted, “You didn’t want what?”

“A stranger to touch me like that,” she finished, her gaze lowering again.

His heart thumped. She was killing him. “Okay, that makes sense. A lot of people prefer to be with someone they know when they’re in intimate situations. Most people need to develop a rapport, build trust. That’s true in any relationship, not just within the lifestyle. You don’t know Master Colin.” What the ever-loving hell was he saying? He needed to be telling her she wasn’t cut out for BDSM, not helping her think it was possible with someone else.

“Right.” She seemed to ponder his ill-advised words. Great.

He needed to right his wrong. “Maybe you aren’t cut out for this lifestyle. Not everyone is. There’s no shame in preferring a vanilla relationship.”

She scrunched up her brow and shot him a glare. “What are you talking about? It was one scene. I went into it too fast. I didn’t know that man. He touched my bare ass. It doesn’t mean I’m not submissive.”

He sighed.

“Shit.” She released her arms to shove on his chest again, scrambling to get off his lap.

He was so shocked by her sudden movement that he couldn’t stop her. In moments, she was standing a foot away from him, the blanket falling to the floor. “You planned this.” Her voice was louder. “You absolutely planned this. My brother helped you.” She pointed a finger at him.

Her skirt was askew and had risen high on her thighs. Her corset was also crooked and precariously in danger of exposing her nipples.

He lifted both hands in defeat, palms out. To continue to deny the truth would only make things worse. “We thought—”

She fumed, nearly screaming as she stomped her foot and fisted her hands at her sides. “You thought you knew what was best for me. That’s what you thought. Both of you. Don’t act like my sexuality is something I should be ashamed of.

“I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m a child. It’s growing annoying. I’m a grown woman. I’m not that seventeen-year-old girl you met in the breakroom five years ago. I’m not the girl you humiliated in front of the entire staff with your highhandedness and domineering ways.” Tears ran down her face and her voice cracked.

Fuck. He’d really fucked up. He’d fucked up then, and he was still fucking up now. No matter what he thought about her or how hard he’d tried to ignore his weird attraction to her all these years, she was right. He hadn’t meant to shame her, only protect her. And himself. He was an ass.

He needed to admit it. “You’re right.”

Her chest heaved, and she opened her mouth to continue her rant, but stopped short. “I’m right?”

“Yes.” He was so totally going to kick himself later for even thinking his next words, let alone speaking them out loud, but he did it anyway. “You’re right. I was a dick that night I met you. And you deserve to explore this curiosity you have with submission. No one should deny you the opportunity, nor the right to own your feelings. If you want to give submission a try, you should do so.”

She stared at him, leery, her eyes narrowing.

His next words were going to get him killed by her brother, but again, he spoke them anyway, knowing this might be the only way. “Let me train you.”

She paused, and then she stumbled backward.

He leaped to his feet and reached out a hand to grab her before she fell on her ass. Steadying her upright with both hands on her elbows, he silently shot himself in the head.

Yes. Rowen was going to have him executed.

He eased one hand up her arm and cupped her face. He lifted her chin while he continued to dig his early grave. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

She looked completely shocked when she did as he told her.

“If you want to explore your submission, let me be the one to train you. It’s the best scenario you’re going to get. I’m safe. You know me. You won’t have to worry about meeting someone who doesn’t treat you with respect or who makes you nervous.”

“You make me nervous,” she interrupted.

He chuckled. “Touché.” But this was veering way off track. Train her? Good fucking God. He needed to right this. He could do it. Make some demands. Do it now. “The first behavior I’m going to insist you correct is this constant insubordination and that mouthy way you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. If you accept my proposal, I want you to address me appropriately from now on. And, I expect you to think before you speak. No more lashing out at me verbally. I won’t tolerate such insolence. Are we clear?” He lifted a brow, hopeful.

He wasn’t even sure what the fuck he was hoping for. His stupid self wanted her to take him up on his offer. His more rational self pushed the boundaries with that last little speech in the hopes she would renege and turn him down. Now would be the perfect moment for her to back out.

Best case scenario, instead of digging her heels in, she would be horrified by his demands and tell him to go fuck himself.

She breathed in and out, seemingly wrapping her head around his sudden proposal. Finally, she spoke. “Yes, Sir.”

Well, fuck. His dick jumped. He couldn’t stop the next words from adding to the train wreck. “Good girl.”

“My brother…”

He lifted another brow. Two seconds and already she was speaking out of line.

“Sorry, Sir. But…”

“Your brother… Well, after he screams at me and throws everything not nailed down around my office, he’ll see reason. He’ll understand this is the best way to help you find yourself in the safest environment possible.” Would he? Because Lincoln didn’t even believe his own words.

She nodded slowly.

“I realize there are a lot of details to work out. I want you to know my only intention is to train you. I won’t take advantage of you. Do we have an agreement?”

She hesitated again, making his heart stop, and then, “Yes, Sir. We have an agreement.”