My Stepbrother Is My Secret Master novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Rule
After one last blindfolded night with the masked Master she's belonged to for two years, Laurel moves into her new stepmother's lakeside mansion, refuses the woman's money, and finds a black lace blindfold exactly like hers outside her stepbrother's door.
For two years I had belonged to a man whose face I had never seen.
Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, the second he spoke, I obeyed.
That last night in Columbus, I knelt on the carpet of room 1104 with black lace tied over my eyes.
The collar was already on.
He'd buckled it himself, the way he always did, one finger tucked under the leather to check it wasn't too tight.
I heard ice shift in a glass.
Then his voice, low and close.
"Look at me."
I tipped my face up toward the sound.
A fingertip touched my lower lip and pressed.
I opened my mouth and took it in, slow.
He tasted like whiskey and soap.
"Good," he said.
He pulled his finger free and traced it wet along my jaw.
My knees were shaking, and not from the floor.
"Master," I whispered. "Please be gentle tonight."
He laughed, quiet, right against my ear.
"I don't do gentle, pup. You know exactly what I do."
I did.
That was why I'd driven across town in the rain with the blindfold in my purse.
His hand slid into my hair and closed.
"You're moving into a new house tomorrow. New city. New people. There's one rule you never forget. Tell me what it is."
"I'm your pup," I said. "I'm loyal only to you."
"Again."
"I'm your pup. I'm loyal only to you."
"Good girl."
Two words, and I was already wet.
"Stand up," he said. "Hands behind your back."
I stood and crossed my wrists behind my back.
He pulled my head back by the hair until my throat went tight.
"Say it again."
"I'm your pup. I'm loyal only to you."
"Louder."
"I'm your pup. I'm loyal only to you."
The words came out shaking because his other hand was already at the top button of my shirt.
He didn't unbutton it.
He just pulled, and the first two buttons popped and rolled across the carpet.
"Master."
"Quiet."
He pushed the shirt off my shoulders and left it hanging from my wrists, which were still locked behind my back.
The air hit my bare tits and my nipples went hard before he even touched them.
He knew.
I heard him smile when his thumb brushed one.
"Already like this," he said. "And I haven't done anything to you yet."
"Please."
"Please what."
I swallowed.
"Please touch me."
He laughed again, that low sound that meant no.
"I'll touch you when I decide to touch you. Not before."
His grip in my hair tightened and he walked me forward, three steps, then stopped.
I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt.
I could smell the whiskey on his breath and the soap on his skin.
"On your knees."
I dropped so fast I felt the carpet burn my shins.
His hand never left my hair.
"Open."
I opened my mouth.
I heard the clink of his belt, the slow drag of his zipper.
Then the head of his cock pushed past my lips and hit the back of my throat.
I gagged.
He pulled back just enough, then pushed in again, deeper.
"Good girl. Take it."
He fucked my mouth with one fist in my hair and the other holding my jaw, and I let him, because this was the only place in the world I could let go like this.
Tears leaked under the blindfold and I didn't care.
I wanted him to use me.
I wanted to be the thing he came home to.
His hips snapped forward and he held me there until I choked, then he pulled out and let me gasp.
"On the bed. Face down."
I crawled toward where I remembered the bed being, and when my knee hit the frame I climbed up and lay flat on my stomach.
I heard him unbuttoning his shirt.
Then his weight came down over me, his chest against my back, his mouth at my ear.
"You begged me to be gentle."
"Master."
"That was a mistake."
He ripped the rest of my shirt off and I heard it tear.
His hand slid under my stomach and lifted my hips, and he dragged my cutoffs down my legs and threw them somewhere.
I was bare for him now except the collar and the blindfold.
He spread my knees with his own.
"Look at you," he said. "You're dripping for me and I haven't touched your cunt yet."
"Please."
His palm came down on my ass, hard, and I cried out into the sheets.
"Please what."
"Please fuck me."
"Not yet."
He flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists above my head with one hand.
His other hand closed around my throat, not squeezing, just holding, the way he knew I needed.
"You're going to lie there and take what I give you."
"Yes, Master."
He knelt between my legs and lowered his mouth to my pussy.
The first lick was slow, from my entrance all the way up to my clit, and my back arched off the bed.
He did it again.
And again.
"Whose pussy is this."
"Yours, Master."
"Louder."
"Yours. It's yours."
He sucked my clit into his mouth and I nearly screamed.
He kept me there, licking and sucking while his fingers slid inside me, two of them, curling up, and I was shaking, I was right there, my whole body wound tight, when he stopped.
I sobbed.
"No, no, please, please don't stop."
"Beg properly."
His fingers stayed inside me, not moving.
I thrashed under his hand at my throat.
"Please, Master, please let me come, please, I'll do anything, I'll be your good girl, please."
He pulled his fingers out and I cried.
"Not yet."
He flipped me onto my stomach again and yanked my hips up.
I felt the head of his cock notch against my cunt.
"Ask me."
"Please fuck me, Master."
"Ask me like you mean it."
"I need your cock. Please. I need it inside me. I'm begging you."
He slammed in to the hilt and I screamed into the mattress.
He didn't stop.
He fucked me hard from behind with one hand between my shoulder blades, pressing me down, and the other fisted in my hair.
The sound of his hips hitting my ass filled the room.
The rain lashed the window.
"Whose pussy is this."
"Yours."
"Whose good girl are you."
"Yours. Only yours."
"Say the rule."
"I'm your pup. I'm loyal only to you."
He pulled my hips harder against him and reached around to rub my clit.
"Now. Come for me now."
I came apart on his cock, screaming for my Master, and he fucked me through it.
Then he pulled out and flipped me onto my back.
He pushed my knees apart and drove back inside before I could catch my breath.
His hand went around my throat again.
"One more."
"Master, I can't."
"You can. You will. Look at me."
I couldn't see him through the blindfold but I turned my face up anyway.
He fucked me harder, deeper, and his thumb found my clit and pressed.
I was too sensitive and it hurt in that perfect way and I came again, clenching around him, and this time he groaned, low and hoarse.
"Fuck. Good girl. That's my good girl."
He drove into me three more times and came inside me with a sound I wanted to keep forever.
He stayed there, breathing hard against my shoulder, then pulled out slow.
The blindfold was still on.
He lay back and pulled me against his chest, and his fingers found the silver ring on my collar and turned it.
"Count to a hundred in the morning, pup. Same as always."
"Yes, Master."
I pressed my lips to his wrist, to the small raised scar that was only his, and I held on.
I woke to the sound of the door clicking shut.
The sheets on his side were still warm.
I counted to a hundred out loud, the way I always did.
Then I untied the blindfold and looked at an empty hotel room.
He never let me see him leave.
That was the deal, and I had never once broken it.
Six hours later, I pulled my old Civic up to a house that looked like a museum.
It was gray stone, three stories, with a lawn that ran down to Lake Michigan.
My dad had married into this in June.
I still couldn't picture Gary Prewitt, roofer, in a house.
I got out in my cutoffs and dragged my pink suitcase over the gravel.
The front door opened before I reached it.
A man in a black suit and white gloves stood in the doorway.
"Miss Prewitt. We've been expecting you."
"Hello?" I said, like an idiot.
"I'm the butler," he said gently. "May I take your bag?"
"I've got it. Thanks."
A woman in cream cashmere came down a curved staircase with her arms already open.
Dorinda Lockwood, my new stepmother.
She hugged me.
"Laurel. Finally. Your father's at the hardware store, he'll be home in an hour. He's been pacing since breakfast."
"That sounds like him."
She pressed a black credit card into my hand.
"For school things. Clothes. Whatever you need. Please don't argue."
I looked at it.
The butler looked politely at the ceiling.
I handed it back.
"That's really kind. But I've got a job lined up at an art store downtown, and I'd like to pay my own way."
Her smile wobbled, then came back warmer.
"Your father said you'd say that."
"He knows me."
"Well. At least take the room I picked. Third floor, north light. For your drawing."
"Thank you. That I'll take."
"My son's up there too, at the other end," she said. "Beckett's in the city till tonight. Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just ask."
The room was bigger than our whole house in Chillicothe.
At eight o'clock, I locked myself in the hall bathroom and propped my phone against the mirror.
I tied on the blindfold.
My phone chimed for the video call, and I answered by feel.
"Take it off for a second," he said. "I want you to see this."
I pushed the lace up onto my forehead.
He sat in shadow behind his gold-and-black mask, a wine glass in one hand.
In the other was a small pink remote.
My stomach dropped.
He'd told me to wear the toy for the drive.
I'd been wearing it for six hours.
"You moved today," he said. "And you remembered the rule."
"Yes, Master."
"A good pup gets rewarded."
His thumb pressed the button.
I grabbed the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles went white.
Somewhere below, the butler's footsteps crossed the hall.
"Quiet," Master said. "Unless you want the whole house to know what you are."
I bit my lip until it hurt.
He turned it up.
My hips moved on their own against the cold marble.
I was right at the edge, shaking, when he pressed the button again and it stopped dead.
I made a sound I'd never made before.
"Time's up," he said. "I have business to take care of."
The screen went black.
I stood there gasping at my own flushed reflection.
I pulled the blindfold off my forehead, straightened my shirt and opened the bathroom door.
The hallway was dark, all the way down to a closed door at the east end.
Moving boxes were stacked against the wall outside it.
The top one had split, and the marker on its side said STUDIO PROPS.
Something had slid out of it onto the floor.
I walked closer.
It was a blindfold.
Black French lace, with long silk ties.
It was exactly like the one in my hand.
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend