Belong to Me

There was that ridiculous assertion again. Just like Bocelli, Thorpe didn’t know her at all.



“Mr. Thorpe, my nature isn’t up for discussion. I’m here to learn whatever I need to fake it and rescue Agent Miles.”



“‘Faking it’ probably got Agent Miles captured. A Dom worth his salt can dig out a sub’s true desires quickly. If she’s not genuine about embracing her need to please her Master, he’ll know. If you truly want to help your fellow agent, focus on finding the true sub within you.”



His words wrapped around her neck like a vise grip and choked. Her stepfather had always called her a pleaser, which was why she’d allowed Logan to take advantage of her. Of course she liked the idea of a man who knew her, body and soul, and fulfilled every dark fantasy. Nor could she deny having a bondage fantasy or two. But that hardly made her submissive. The thought of giving up her free will entirely to another . . . Tara shuddered inwardly. Hell no.



Still, being here at Dominion was about the friend she’d gone to college with, first gotten drunk with, shared holidays, beauty tips, illness, and breakups with. It had nothing to do with Logan.



“I will do my best to embrace the role. I will work harder to internalize whatever I must before going undercover. But please, I’m asking you to find anyone else but Mr. Edgington.”



Thorpe sat on the edge of the desk, hovering. No doubt, he knew that the way he towered over her discomfited her. “A pretty plea . . . but no. First, I won’t let you top from the bottom.”



“I am not manipulating a Dom to get my way.”



At that, he sent her a sly, white grin. “You are—and if you were mine, I’d paddle you for that lie. In fact, your stubbornness is one reason Agent York isn’t progressing. He’s placating you instead of getting his act together. Second, Logan is the best at training subs who need, shall we say, an attitude adjustment. He’s patient, logical, and unyielding. You, Agent Jacobs, need a firm hand. He’ll give it to you, make no mistake.”



Bastard! “You’re dragging out this training unnecessarily. Instead of simply getting comfortable with the lifestyle, you’re forcing me to deal with a Dom I will never trust. How is that helpful?”



“Your employer paid me handsomely to prepare you for an urgent mission. Everything I have done is to prepare you, including taking away your choices. You have to get used to that since a submissive may only say yes or quit. That’s what you haven’t gotten through your head yet. The contract states that I’m able, within legal bounds, to use my discretion and do whatever necessary to ensure your readiness. That’s what I’m going to do. Or do you wish to quit before truly trying?”



Low blow. Tara refused to give up on Darcy, and Thorpe knew it. She fought to hold down an angry flush. “No.”



He raised a dark brow. He wanted a “Sir” out of her, damn him. But giving it would prove to him that she understood protocol—and could embrace it.



And if she wanted another Dom, she needed to play his game.



“No, Sir,” she murmured. “But—”



“That was slow and insincere. Your manners need work, Agent Jacobs. Logan may make you uncomfortable, but I believe he will be effective. I’ve watched you with Axel this week. I saw from the observation room when you first realized that Logan had come for you. Your reaction was ...very enlightening.” He prowled around to the edge of his desk again. “For the first time since you stepped in this door, you snapped to attention and listened. I’ll bet he made you wet. There’s a reason a sweet sub like you denies her nature, and Logan will get to the bottom of that. Besides, if you truly are unable to trust him ever again, this will be good training for your mission. You’ll never trust an international slave dealer who wants you to kneel at his feet so he can sell you to the highest bidder. Pretending obedience will do you good.”



“But wouldn’t it take less time to prepare me if—”



“You are not without recourse,” Thorpe broke in. “You will be monitored, for safety’s sake. If Logan genuinely pushes you past what’s bearable or forces any act on you, you always have your safe word. Should you truly need to use it, we’ll discuss your options then.” He rose from the desk and opened his door. “Good-bye.”



Tara rose to her feet stiffly. The bastard thought he had this all figured out. Fine. If he wasn’t going to believe her, there was no sense wasting more time arguing. Giving one hundred percent to her mission and rescuing Darcy was the priority. Thorpe had all but told her the way out of this nonsense. Now all she needed was an opportunity.



Whirling to face the club’s owner, she opened her mouth—and closed it when she saw they were no longer alone. Logan leaned against the doorjamb, staring at her with a dissecting blue gaze that promised punishment. Against her will, her womb clenched.



“C’mon, Cherry. Apparently, I need to start with that spanking, after all. Let’s go.”



Chapter Three



TARA swallowed. Her heart fell to her knees as Logan stepped aside just enough for her to exit Thorpe’s office. She didn’t look his way as she turned down the hall. Even without seeing the harsh angles of Logan’s face, she felt his heat and leashed anger simmering behind her. He was furious that she’d tried to have him replaced. Why the hell did he care? He’d cast her aside twelve years ago. Yes, he’d been reeling after his mother’s murder, and she would have excused anger or aloofness. But not his cruelty. What the hell did he want now? The sick thrill of hurting her again? She’d be damned if she let him, because she—and more important, Darcy—didn’t need Logan’s head games.



But she couldn’t deny that rankling his Edgington pride had given her a thrill.



Logan steered her with a light touch at the small of her back, his fingertips like a brand as he guided her down the long hallway that led to more shadowy rooms with equipment that shocked her—and jolted her with a shameful hot spark. Tara hated that, almost as much as she wanted to hate his touch.



“We’re going to be spending a lot of time in my dungeon, Cherry.”



“Don’t call me that,” she hissed.



“While you’re training, you have no control over what I call you, what you do, or what you wear. Your only choices are to obey or quit.”



Immediately, Tara got his game. “And you’re going to push in every way possible to induce me to throw in the towel, aren’t you?”



He raised an intimidating brow, but said nothing.



Bastard. Clearly he didn’t know how much spine she’d grown since high school. Yet.



“You think I can’t handle it.”



“I’d prefer you out of harm’s way.”



“It’s my job to do everything possible to save Agent Miles. I don’t give a shit what you want.”



Logan clenched his jaw. “Going undercover when you have no experience in either covert operations or submissive behavior is incredibly brave. But it’s also very dangerous. You should have more field experience first. Since you don’t, it’s my job to thoroughly prepare you.”



“Why not let someone else do the job?” She thrust her hand on her hip. “You made it crystal clear years ago that you don’t care.”



“Think of this as my atonement for our past. Now let’s go.”



With a nudge, he urged her forward. Anger shimmered off of him. His presence filled the air around her, forbidding. Atonement, my ass.



Repressing a quiver of apprehension, Tara moved forward, heels clicking on the hard floors as he stalked behind her. He might be in charge . . . for now. But she had one power that Logan absolutely must respect. The minute he tried to exert his will? She’d blurt her safe word faster than he could spit. Thorpe, watching their exchange, would be forced to replace Logan with another Dom. Then she could get down to serious training. But whatever her first lover’s game, she wasn’t playing.



Logan guided her to a room she’d never seen and flicked on the overhead lights. The space was utilitarian, with gray concrete floors and black walls. A padded table, a spanking bench that looked like a sawhorse, a large wooden X, and a bed outfitted with nothing but a fitted, black silk sheet. Was this his dungeon?



“Inside.”



She stepped in and whirled on him as he slammed the door. And locked it.



Tara shot him a cold glare. “Don’t try to scare me by playing the heavy.”



He pierced her with a stare as he crossed the floor to stand beside the giant wooden X. Manacles dangled from heavy-duty bolts both at top and bottom. “I’m not playing. Come here and present yourself.”



She looked at the apparatus, shoving down a shiver of apprehension. “If we’re a team, I need to know what’s going on. We should discuss how to proceed with this training.”



His stare grew icy. “We may be a team, but I’m in charge. I didn’t give you permission to speak. First warning. Come here and do as you’re told or we’ll start our time together with a hell of a spanking.”



Spanking, as in his hand on my ass? The thought rippled through her with an involuntary blast of heat. Tara didn’t waste her breath to challenge Logan and say that he wouldn’t dare. He would.



Damn it. Why did that make her panties damp?



She approached him, stopping a few safe feet away.



He raised a brow. “You can’t follow my simple instructions, but you’re going to breeze through some slave-peddling asshole trying to mold you into the perfect submissive while you search for your missing agent?”



Tara paused. As much as she wanted to hate him now . . . he was right. Until Thorpe assigned her a new Dom, she was stuck with Logan. And whatever the situation, she had to control her anger—and her anxiety that Logan would touch her.



Drawing in a deep breath, Tara dropped down into the pose Axel had taught her, sitting back on her heels, legs spread as much as her skirt allowed, palms up on her thighs, shoulders back, head down.



Logan walked a slow circle around her, his stare touching her everywhere. Though she kept in good shape, Tara had a generous booty no matter how much she exercised. But she didn’t care if Logan loathed her figure. Brad, her fiancé, liked it just fine.



Logan crouched in front of her. “Look at me.”



Tara met his stare with cool challenge.



That blue gaze penetrated her defenses, and despite wearing a skirt, blouse, and heels, she felt stark naked. Her skin grew hot and tight as he scrutinized her.



“There’s nothing wrong with the form of the pose itself, as I’m sure you know. You always studied every subject thoroughly. That won’t be enough to slide by with submission. What matters is not merely that you obey, but that there’s obedience in your heart.



“You dropped into position quickly when I reminded you about your fellow agent’s well-being,” he went on. “But you didn’t come to me with any desire to please me. You spoke after I told you to remain silent. I see anger all over your face.”



She blanked her expression and stared through him. “I’ll try harder next time.”



“You may not have a next time. Agent Miles doesn’t.”



He was right. Shit, this arrangement was never going to work. Yes, she needed to keep her head in the game, but there was too much past between them that she couldn’t seem to forget. If she was going to stop wasting time and get rid of Logan, she needed to do it now.



Tara slanted him an innocent stare. “Did you wish to spank me?”



“Yep, like the bratty sub you’re being, until you think twice about letting your temper get the best of you. That will be fatal in the field. Unless, of course, you’d like to quit the mission and send a more experienced agent in your place.”



“Hell no. Unlike you, I don’t turn my back on others.”



A muscle ticked in Logan’s cheek. “I still didn’t give you permission to speak. That’s something that won’t be tolerated when you’re undercover. For that, I’ll punish you with two swats, in addition to the five I’d already decided to give you for running to Thorpe instead of working your differences out with me. For cursing, I’m adding another two. For failing to address me as ‘Logan,’ I’ll add three more.”



Neither Axel nor Robert had touched her all week. Nor had she wanted them to. But against her will, Tara flashed hot at the dizzying number of blows Logan promised to inflict on her ass. Her womb cramped. Damn it, she shouldn’t react like this with him. “Don’t most of you control freaks want to be called Sir or Master?”



He laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. “Usually. For you, I’m making an exception. I want to hear my name on your lips so I know you’re aware of exactly who’s making you come.”



Tara bit her tongue. She’d love to toss his self-assurance back in his face and vow there was no way in hell he’d arouse her enough to climax. But if he’d managed to make a virgin gasp and claw and melt in his arms at sixteen, what could a grown man do to a woman hungry for another orgasm like that? It was a nonissue. They wouldn’t be together that long.