This was more than master and slave, hot sex, rip-roaring fantasies. There was a tangible connection being forged in this moment—one she didn’t want to break. There was so much feeling behind this kiss that she wanted it to go on forever.

Starved for air, she broke away long enough to gulp in a breath before he reclaimed her mouth. His lips glanced off hers and landed at the corner of her mouth. He peppered a line of kisses down her jaw and to the tender skin below her ear and lower to her neck.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to give him better access as he worked to the front of her throat. Slowly, he slid his tongue and lips upward again until he nibbled at her chin and then finally came back to her mouth where he kissed her harder this time, with more savagery.

This was a kiss, like none she’d ever received. No quick peck. No messy, sloppy mesh of tongues. No clumsy slapping of lips together. The man could seriously kiss.

“I could do this all morning,” he murmured as he pulled slightly away. His breath came heavy, and she could see he was affected as she was.

“Mmmm, me too,” she said as she cuddled back into his arms.

“Did you get enough to eat?”

She nodded against him. “You?”

He stroked his hand down her arm. “Yes, thanks to you. I think I could get used to being a kept man.”

She grinned. “You’re too much of a control freak to ever be a kept man.”

“You doubt your abilities, Serena mine. A man would have to be crazy to object to a woman such as you taking care of him. I find myself looking forward more than ever to the month ahead.”

Her cheeks warmed as she basked in his words. She’d had her share of relationships. Flings and all things in between, but she’d never felt as appreciated as she did in the short time she’d been with Damon. It made absolutely no sense to her that they could have this sort of connection so fast, but she couldn’t doubt its legitimacy.

He made her want to go that extra mile to make him happy. She wanted his approval, wanted to see his eyes flash in satisfaction.

“I need to get you dressed,” he announced.

She leaned back and raised one eyebrow. “What happened to keeping me naked at all times?”

He laughed. “As appealing a prospect as that is, I can’t take you out in public wearing only the jewelry I gave you.” His hand slid playfully to her rump, and he gave her a light squeeze. “I’m taking you shopping for appropriate clothing for the next month.”

“Hmm, a man who likes to shop. What on earth is this world coming to?”

“Not only do I like to shop, but I like to spend money on my woman,” he said with a wink.

“For that I’ll gladly get dressed,” she said as she grinned broadly at him.

As he started to move her from his lap, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to call Julie. And knowing Julie, she would indeed have the cops beating on Damon’s door if Serena didn’t check in.

“Crap,” she muttered. “Damon, I need to use the phone. My friend Julie. You met her at Cattleman’s. She was sorta worried that you were going to kill me last night so unless I call her, she’s going to call the police and have them knock on your door.”

Damon threw back his head and laughed. “By all means, call your friend. She sounds like quite the tigress.”

Serena smiled. “She means well, and she has a big heart, even if her mouth is bigger.”

“I’ll leave you to your phone call then. I’ll go up and get your change of clothes from your bag.”

He moved her from his lap and stood. “I’ll take you into my office so you have privacy.”

This time she readily threaded her fingers into his as he walked her out of the kitchen and across the living room. He showed her into a smaller room off the living room and gestured toward his desk.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll be in the living room, so just come out when you’re done.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then turned and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Satisfied that her friend was still alive and kicking, Julie hung up the phone. Serena wasn’t giving any details, but she sounded pretty darn cheerful for someone who’d just spent her first night in slavery. Not for the first time, Julie wondered if she’d given the whole submission thing a bum rap.

Nah.

She shook her head and eyed the phone with trepidation. Serena had asked if Julie had called Nathan yet, and of course Julie had lied and said yes. She couldn’t have Serena thinking she was a chicken even if she was growing feathers and developing a cluck.

When had she become such a coward?

She grabbed her cell phone and punched in the number that Nathan had left as his personal contact when he filled out his card at the salon. She had no idea where the hell she was calling. She only hoped it was private.

Cursing her nervousness, she put the phone to her ear and listened to it ring. After the third ring, the call connected, and she sucked in her breath.

“Nathan Tucker.”

“Nathan. Uh, hi, this is Julie Stanford from, um, the salon . . . the massage place.”

God, could she sound like a bigger moron? To make matters worse, there was a long pause on the line like he was trying to place her.

“Julie, hi. Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t called to reschedule. I just got busy.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I mean that’s not why I’m calling. I, um . . . I wanted to thank you for driving me home the other night.”

“Not a problem. I was glad to do it,” he said with easy charm.

“There’s one other thing,” she hedged.

“I’m listening.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Did anything happen that night? I mean did I act inappropriately?”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, she sounded like some sleazy politician apologizing for being caught out with a hooker.

“I don’t understand,” Nathan said. She could hear the genuine confusion in his voice.

“Did I jump you? Rape you? Did we have sex?” she asked impatiently.

“Good lord, no.”

Well, he needn’t sound so appalled.

“Then how . . . why did I end up naked in my bed?” she asked quietly.

“Goddamn it!” Nathan roared.

Julie jumped and held the phone away from her ear.

More muttered cursing ensued, muffled, as he no doubt was holding the phone to his shirt. Then more rattling and he came back on.

“Sorry, not you.” Then he broke away and shouted again. “Micah, you motherfucker, I’m going to kick your ass this time.”

“Look, I’ve obviously caught you at a bad time,” Julie said loudly, hoping he’d hear.

“No, I’m sorry. Micah and his friggin’ practical jokes. About the other night . . . Nothing happened, Julie. If I had any idea you’d be worried, I would have called you. You were sort of out of it so I put you to bed. Someone spilt beer on your shirt and so I stripped you down. I didn’t even look at you, I swear.”

“Well, why the hell not?” she asked in exasperation. “Am I that ugly?”

“What? No. Hell, what the hell?” he sputtered.

It was obvious he didn’t have a clue whether to shit or go blind.

“I’ll let you go,” she muttered.

“Wait, Julie, don’t go yet.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and punched the End button. Then, as mortification boiled over her, she powered the phone off, just in case he had any ideas about calling back.

Laying the phone aside, she closed her eyes and shook her head. Where was a giant hole in the earth when she needed one?

Serena sat in the backseat of Damon’s car, nestled close to his side as they drove toward the Galleria. She looked—and felt—beautiful.

Damon had chosen a simple knee-length sleeveless dress and a pair of sandals out of the two outfits she’d brought with her. She’d worn it before, but the dress had never made her feel so utterly feminine.