Slave by Sherri Hayes

the first few pages. For the first time in so long, I felt that growing excitement I always felt when starting a new book. I was so lost in the sensation flowing through my body that I almost missed his words. “You like to read, Brianna?”
    My head came up before I knew what I was doing. But as soon as my eyes met his, I remembered my place and lowered them again. “Yes, Master.”
    “What do you like to read?”
    He was asking me questions again. Why? Ian had never asked me anything he really wanted my opinion on; all he wanted from me was yes, Master or no, Master and even the latter was rare. My new Master . . . he . . . cared ? I wasn’t sure that was the right word.
    Still. “I . . . I like anything really. But . . . I used to love the classics. Mostly. Master.”
    Then I felt his hand on my chin forcing my head up to look at him. “First, Brianna, you do not need to end all of your sentences with Master . As long as you speak to me with respect, I am fine with you just answering my questions.”
    I was . . . speechless. Ian had required . . . I shook that thought aside. Stephan was not Ian. I had to remember that. What Ian wanted, required, or demanded no longer mattered. I belonged to someone else now.
    “Second, would you like to see my library?”
    Was he serious? “Yes,” I answered, barely able to contain my excitement.
    And then I saw something I’d never seen from Ian. A smile. A real, genuine, happy smile.
    Releasing his hold on my chin, he stood. “Come with me.”
    I did.
    He walked past the kitchen into a hallway I’d never noticed before. It was small and led to a flight of stairs. We went up one level to a small landing, and before we even cleared the stairs, I saw them. Books. Hundreds and hundreds of books.
    As soon as we reached the landing, he stepped to the side and motioned for me to go ahead. I didn’t hesitate for once. I hadn’t seen this many books in nearly a year, and I was in heaven.
    It was like before with the DVDs only better. These were books, beautiful, glorious books. My hands reached out to touch the spines of a few of my favorites, my hand stopping on a hardcover of Jane Eyre . I moved to pull it down and then stopped myself. He’d not given me permission for that.
    “You may remove the book if you’d like.”
    I did.
    The book felt wonderful in my hands. It was heavier than my copy had been due to its hard cover, and this one didn’t look like it had ever been read.
    “Would you like to take it with you to your room?” he asked.
    “Yes, please.”
    We went back downstairs. He picked up his dishes, carrying them into the kitchen, and I did the same. I followed his lead, and he seemed satisfied as I put my things in the dishwasher with his.
    After adding detergent, he closed the door and turned the machine on, filling the space with a quiet hum. I didn’t move. My head was down, and there was this weird feeling in the air. He took a step toward me, raising his hand, and then stopped, dropping it once again.
    “You may go to bed, Brianna.” His voice was clipped again, harsh.
    I didn’t pause before hurrying to my room. It was only after I’d closed the door, that I remembered I’d forgotten my books.

Stephan
    I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever experience a full night’s sleep again. It was now six in the morning on a Saturday, and I found myself upstairs in my gym. Before Brianna or even the thought of her entered my existence, my life had been easy, predictable. Now I found myself in situations where I was unsure of my own responses.
    Last night was a perfect example.
    After we put our plates and silverware into the dishwasher, I still wasn’t sure what had happened, or why. It was almost as if an electrical charge was floating through the air, like the area was magnetized. As I watched her stand there, her head down, completely submitting herself to me, I felt more drawn to her than any other woman I’d ever encountered. Without thinking, I had