Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair


  Rainie’s gaze was soft. “You could have left me there. You came.” She shuddered and blinked hard before giving Uzuri a firm nod. “Thank you.”

  They thought she was brave.

  Courage is enduring one moment more.

  She had been brave.

  Max pulled his key ring out of his pocket. “I keep a spare key. Give me your wrists.” After handing the puppy to Alastair, he undid her handcuffs. His expression tightened when he saw the bleeding scrapes.

  “Think we owe Ben a steak dinner,” Max muttered to Alastair.

  “Agreed.” Then, as the puppy started wiggling to get back to Uzuri, Alastair frowned as if realizing what Max had handed him. “Why do I have a puppy? Where did it come from?”

  “I don’t know.” Uzuri took the puppy back, and it bathed her neck in delight.

  “It was bait, and he used it to get me.” Rainie gave an annoyed growl. “He carried it into the vet clinic and said he had three more to bring in for shots. They’d busted open the box holding them and would I help him carry them in?”

  Dan grunted. “Of course, you went right out.”

  “Well, yeah.” Rainie looked disgruntled. “He opened the side, said, “Grab that one,” and when I leaned forward to look, that was that.”

  Uzuri held the puppy toward her. “Here, you earned him.”

  Rainie shook her head. “Jake won’t let me have more dogs and”—she smiled—“he’s bonded to you. Can’t you tell?”

  “I can’t…”

  Max grinned. “Seems fair. I think you’ve missed having a little dog.”

  “But you already have a dog.”

  “We already have a dog,” Alastair corrected. “Hunter will enjoy a friend. Looks like this one is small.”

  “Terrier-poodle mix, I’d say,” Rainie said. “You’ll have a total fluff ball that will stay lap-sized.”

  Uzuri gathered the puppy close, feeling her heart brimming over.

  Max looked at Alastair. “Don’t know if you saw how she’s limping. You need to check her over. Rainie, too.”

  Alastair smiled over at Rainie. “We’ll swing by the ER.” Then he touched Uzuri’s cheek gently. “Once we get released from this mess, we’ll discuss how our submissive scared us to death. If she’s not too injured, I’ll only spank her a little before we release our worries in another way.”

  “Spank me?” She scowled up at him.

  And then, as she saw the smoldering heat in his eyes, her anger sputtered out, and a flame ignited low in her belly. Come to think of it, she had a few worries to release, as well.

  Still… “Excuse me, oh wonderful Dragon Doms, but I did call for help, didn’t I? And I knew you’d come.”

  “Well, that’s true. You trusted us to come after you, and you were very brave. You get a pass on the spanking.” Max touched her bruised face gently. “She’s cold, cuz. Let’s get her checked out and get her home. Then we’ll warm her from the inside out.” He leaned down and whispered, “Because I need to be buried deep inside you…fucking deep.”

  Uzuri’s knees almost buckled.

  Alastair’s laugh shook her. “We have a plan. Something to look forward to.” He touched his mouth to hers. “Do you know how much we love you, our brave little mischief?”

  They’d risked their lives to save her.

  Yes. She knew.

  Chapter Thirty

  A WEEK BEFORE Thanksgiving, Uzuri pulled into the driveway and parked inside the garage. Even as she got out of the car, she was mentally ticking off everything she had to accomplish before they headed up to Colorado for the holiday.

  At the Drago family ranch. With all of the Dragos.

  Way to terrify a girl.

  What did people wear on a ranch in Colorado?

  Before she reached the door from the dark garage to the kitchen, she heard a flurry of high yips and Hunter’s lower bark. Dior’s little paws scrabbled on the other side of the door as the puppy tried to dig his way through.

  She heard Max’s relaxed laugh. “Easy, mutt. She’s coming.”

  He opened the door for her, and she stepped through into light and warmth. The scent of ginger and garlic swirled around her. Chinese. Alastair must be cooking.

  “’Bout time you got home. Trade you.” In his usual black T-shirt and jeans, Max took her purse and briefcase. He dumped the fluffy puppy in her arms, then grabbed himself a kiss, even as Dior frantically licked her neck.

  “Mmm, you taste good,” he murmured. He pulled her closer and took a deeper kiss. “Welcome home—and you’re late.”

  “Late?” She frowned at him, then bent to give Hunter some hugs and scratches. “I’m not late. I always get home now.”

  In a cream-colored, short-sleeved shirt and khakis, Alastair walked over and handed her a glass of wine. He also took a kiss, taking full advantage of the fact that she had a poodle and wine in her hands. “We missed you, therefore you’re late.”

  “Oh.” Oddly enough, that almost made sense. “I missed you, too, so I guess I am.”

  “Supper will be in about half an hour,” Alastair said. “In the meantime, we left something for you by the garden pond.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Had she ordered something and forgotten? After a sip or two or three of wine, she kissed Dior, set him down, and headed out onto the patio. This late in the day, the sun was setting, and pink was coloring the puffy clouds in the dark blue.

  The air was cool with mist from the splashing pond. Hmm. Were those Barbie dolls arrayed on the rocks by the water?

  Uh-oh. The last time the guys had messed with her dolls was after she’d reprogrammed their phones’ ring tones to play “It’s a Small World.” That time, Dr. Dragon had held a paddle; Detective Dragon had been leaning on a massive dildo.

  That had been a great night.

  But she hadn’t played any tricks recently. After taking another sip of wine for courage, she set her glass on a table and approached the pond.

  Her Zuri-doll was naked and kneeling. Okay, that wasn’t scary. She was submissive, after all.

  Dressed in a short-sleeve shirt and khakis, Dr. Dragon stood over Zuri-doll, holding out a gold cuff-style bracelet. A real bracelet. The gold head was shaped like a dragon with ruby eyes and diamond brows. The tail held more diamonds.

  In jeans and a black T-shirt, Detective Dragon gripped a tiny heart-shaped gold padlock also studded with diamonds.

  “What is this?” she whispered.

  “We don’t have a Masters and slave relationship, not a twenty-four-hour one, and yet…we wanted something to symbolize what we share.” Smiling slightly, Alastair had followed silently. He reached around her and took the bracelet from his replica. “We didn’t think you would like a traditional slave collar.”

  Just as silently, Max appeared to stand beside his cousin. “Traditional or not, we wanted a way to show—and for us all to remember—that you belong to your dragon Doms.”

  Alastair’s voice deepened. “Strip, love.”

  She stared at them. She’d been living with them a month, had been their submissive for a month, and believed their relationship was…defined.

  She hadn’t thought anything was missing, so how had they known she wanted something more tangible? The words and the symbols.

  Her heart started pounding as she took off her pumps. Her dress, her bra, her thong followed. As each item of clothing was removed, she slid further into the soft place where decisions were no longer hers.

  “Kneel for us, princess.” The edge of steel in Max’s voice was gentled by the warmth. The love.

  Her legs didn’t want to hold her up anyway, and she went down on her knees, right there on the patio…only to find that one of them had put a cushion there first.

  Alastair’s gaze was tender and steady as he studied her face, then held out his hand.

  When she set her left hand in his, he kissed her fingers in the way that always thrilled her, then fastened the bracelet around her wrist. “The bracelet is a symbol of your
submission to us, Uzuri.” He leaned down and took her lips in a long luxurious kiss.

  “And a symbol that we cherish your surrender and will love you and protect you. You are ours—as we are yours.” Max bent and kissed her, slow and firm. “We love you, Zuri.”

  When he straightened, he took the padlock from his doll, put it on the bracelet, and clicked it shut. The laugh lines beside his blue eyes crinkled. “Even you might find it difficult to pick a padlock with one hand.”

  She couldn’t speak for a moment, couldn’t even see for the tears in her eyes. Wiping her cheeks, she felt the weight on her wrist and saw the sparkle of the diamonds. The dragon watched her with its flashing eyes. “I-I. It’s beautiful.”

  After a moment, she managed to whisper, “I love you. Love you both.” She looked up at her Dragon Doms, side by side, both smiling, and the warmth and love flowed from them to wrap around her.

  When Alastair bent to offer her a hand, she frowned. “Wait… Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”

  “You need us.” Max gave her a smug smile. “It’s our job as your Doms to give you what you need.”

  She scowled.

  Chuckling, Alastair lifted her to her feet and hugged her. “We all know you’d say yes.”

  Oh. “Good point.”

  Max leaned against her from behind, squeezing her between her two Doms. “I think we should celebrate, don’t you?”

  He was hard against her. Alastair was just as hard in front. And she was beginning to melt right into pure lust. Unable to resist, she reached down and undid Alastair’s pants, then pushed back enough to get room to let his cock out to play.

  Glancing down, she choked. Oh…oops. She’d forgotten what she’d done as she was waking the guys up this morning. Omigod, she was in trouble.

  At the sound she made, Alastair followed her gaze to where her hand was wrapped around his cock.

  Although Alastair’s smile disappeared, his cock’s wide silvery smile—and round eyes—remained.

  She eyed her happy face artwork. It looked good, considering how quickly she’d had to work before the guys had awakened this morning. The silvery marker she’d used to draw the eyes and big grin on the head of Alastair’s cock showed up…extremely well. The urethral slit made a perfect nose. Perhaps the grin was a little demented, but seemed very happy.

  Wasn’t it nice a cock normally pointed downward so her Dom hadn’t noticed the face until getting an erection now? After all, Alastair discovering his happy face at a public urinal might have been bad. For her.

  “What?” Max leaned forward to peer over her shoulder. He burst out laughing. “Good to see you feeling cheerful, Doc.”

  “We were both in her bed this morning,” Alastair pointed out ever so politely.

  Uzuri looked away. Uh-oh.

  Max’s laughter sputtered to a stop. “You didn’t…”

  When he stepped back, she turned.

  He opened his jeans. His dick bounced out enthusiastically—which seemed only right since it had an adorable grin in black marker.

  This time it was Alastair who roared his head off.

  Despite Max’s stern expression, she could see his lips twitching with his attempt not to smile. “It was bad enough to have dolls painted to look like us. This? No.”

  Her Dragon Doms moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, arms folded over their chests. Both with the same grim expressions.

  The ground she stood on seemed to take a fast elevator ride straight downward. “Um. Your dicks look really happy.”

  “Mmm. I think mine would be happier being faceless.” Even Max’s stern control couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice.

  Alastair nodded. “I believe a blowjob would be an effective method of removal.” His gaze rested on her, amusement dancing in his warm hazel eyes. “You may continue until the faces are gone.”

  Oh, they tried so hard to look mean, until Alastair busted out laughing again, and she was in his arms, pressed between them both. As the setting sun glinted over her beautiful bracelet, she was kissed and hugged and filled to overflowing with love.

  She sighed happily.

  Coming home truly was the finest part of the day.

  ~ The End ~

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  My Liege of Dark Haven

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  “The emotional and physical connection between the two lit the pages up, along with understanding, forgiveness, and courage. I will be reading this story again for sure…”

  ~ Siren Book Reviews

  Threatened by university cutbacks, Professor Abigail Bern’s only hope is to publish a provocative research paper–soon. Planning to covertly observe behavior in the notorious Dark Haven BDSM club, she takes a receptionist job. When the owner calls upon her to assist in a demonstration, she’s appalled. Then fascinated. Under the unyielding hands of the master known as my Liege, she discovers a need to be more than an observer.

  Xavier’s new receptionist is striving to keep an emotional distance, and he’s intrigued. Although she’s intriguingly intelligent, beautifully submissive, and sweetly vulnerable, her defenses keep her on the fringe of life. As he draws her into truly participating, she, in turn, begins to fill his world.

  Ever since meeting Xavier, Abby questions everything she believes about herself. She’s falling for the stern owner of Dark Haven, and he’s beginning to care for her…until the day he learns why she’s in his club.

  “Deep breath, contented sigh, big smile on my face, warm fuzzy feeling in my chest… Yep, I finished reading Cherise Sinclair’s My Liege of Dark Haven.”

  ~ You Gotta Read Reviews

  Excerpt from

  My Liege of Dark Haven

  ABBY LOOKED OVER her shoulder at the owner of the club. White dress shirt, black silk vest, black jeans, black boots. Definitely in the tall, dark, and handsome category, only the words seemed insipid compared to the reality. The wide, muscular shoulders turned tall into dangerous. His skin held the darkness of Native American ancestry, and the long black braid down his back was a definite statement. Very handsome, with chiseled European features that went well into hard-edged.

  And scary. But she couldn’t back out. She doubted the man had a benevolent bone in his body. Quite obviously if she didn’t “assist,” she’d be out the door. She sure hadn’t thought her participant observation would include real participation. Unease tickled the back of her throat.

  He glanced up, and the sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Easy, Abby. The club safe word is red, and if you use it, play stops immediately. Say it loudly, and a dungeon monitor will show up to make sure you’re all right.” Holding her arm firmly, he wrapped what looked like wide packing tape around her right wrist a couple of times, and she realized the material wasn’t sticky.

  “Red. Got it.”

  “Abby,” he said. “I daresay you know how to address a Dominant in this setting, especially the one working with you.”

  The uninflected reprimand made her flush as if she’d been caught cheating off someone’s test paper. “Yes, my liege.”

  He didn’t rant but nodded acceptance.

  Despite her relief that he hadn’t lost his temper, anxiety thrummed in her ears as he pulled her other arm behind her back and secured both wrists together. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend nothing was happening. She’d never been able to let Nathan put her in handcuffs. Why in the world was she allowing this stranger to restrain her arms?

  But she needed this place for her fieldwork. Needed to keep her job. Publish or perish. If she ever met the academic who’d invented that phrase, she’d shove his papers down h
is throat until he choked.

  “Abby.”

  She opened her eyes.

  Xavier stood in front of her, looking down. Why did he have to be so tall? His warm hands massaged her bare shoulders. “Any strain in your joints?”

  “No, sir.”

  He studied her silently.

  She shifted her weight, trying not to think about her lack of mobility. If she didn’t move, she wouldn’t know—much like closing her eyes during gory movie scenes.

  “Pull on the tape, Abby. How does it feel?”

  Her arms jerked involuntarily, and just like that she knew she was restrained. Couldn’t defend herself. That her body was available to the impassive-faced Master. Alternating waves of heat and cold rushed over her as if she stood in front of a rotating fan. She pulled harder, and panic squeezed her throat.

  “Easy, pet.” He cupped her chin with one firm hand. His fingers curled around her arm, creating a warm place on her skin. His movements showed how easily he could touch her…yet the contact was comforting. Settling. “Eyes on me.”

  Panting, she looked up and into eyes the color of darkness, but the specks of golden brown made them warm, not cold.

  “Good girl.” He stroked his thumb along her jawline. “You know you can’t escape, but I’m not going to do anything you won’t enjoy. We’re here in a public place, and you have a safe word that will summon every monitor in the dungeon. Now slow your breathing down before you hyperventilate.”

  Oops. His gaze never left hers as she pulled in a measured breath and let it out.

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  Also from Cherise Sinclair

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  Masters of the Shadowlands (contemporary)

  Club Shadowlands

  Dark Citadel

  Breaking Free

  Lean on Me

  Make Me, Sir

  To Command and Collar

  This Is Who I Am

  If Only

  Show Me, Baby

  Servicing the Target

 
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