Beg Me

Beg Me

Masters of Decadence (Book 1)

By Scarlett Sanderson

Copyright

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Smashwords edition

Beg Me (Masters of Decadence Book 1) Copyright 2019 Scarlett Sanderson

Smashwords Edition, Licence notes

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Beg Me

Scarlett Sanderson

First book in the scorching hot romance series, Masters of Decadence…

Tessa dreams about being tied up and tantalized with pleasure. She longs for a man to take control, to drive her wild with need. But she’s never been able to let go and indulge in her most forbidden desires.

The second Jared sees Tessa, he wants her. Her fierce intelligence and repressed sensuality call to him, make him burn with a passion he hasn’t felt in years.

Jared offers Tessa a deal—for a month, they’ll play a game of desire. He’ll make her beg, make her moan, make her want things she never knew existed. No strings attached.

But when he can’t get enough of Tessa’s scent, her taste, her touch, he realizes what he really wants is her love…

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Available now

At Their Command (prequel to Wicked Game)

Wicked Game

Beg Me

Captivated by the Dark

Fourth Time’s a Charm

Master of Seduction

Owned by the Night (published with Totally Bound)

Claiming Ruby (Mission Pleasure Book 1)

Taming Nora (Mission Pleasure Book 2)

Enslaving Dana (Mission Pleasure Book 3)

Complete Mission Pleasure series

Coming Soon

Seduce Me (Masters of Decadence book 2)

Possession (Knight of Hell MC book 1)

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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BEG ME

Scarlett Sanderson

Dedication

For K. You are and always will be my inspiration. I love you.

Chapter One

Do you need a Master, little girl? I can be the one to own you.

Tessa turned, facing the man who spoke the words. He was about the same age as her. His blond hair fell in perfectly shaped bangs around his face. His dark eyes flashed with sparks of interest.

She raked her gaze over the rest of him. Tall, lean and tanned, he wore leather pants laced at the sides. They rode low on his hips and cupped an impressive bulge at the crotch. A leather waistcoat covered his bare, waxed chest.

Her body heated. A soft throb beat between her thighs. Thanks, but no thanks.

He grinned, flashed a set of perfectly whitened teeth. I can be your little boy if you prefer.

A shiver of desire and trepidation ran down her spine. No, thanks.

The man shrugged. Your loss. Let me know if you change your mind. He moved into the crowd, lost in the throng of people.

Sending up a silent thank you to whatever gods listened, Tessa found a quiet corner booth and sat down. Inferno was the latest in a series of BDSM clubs opening up in the area, catering specifically to high-class clientele.

Not usually the kind of place she’d visit but Tessa had been curious. In all her sexual relationships, something had been missing. She’d always been curious about BDSM, she even admitted it to her fiancé back in college only to be told she was abnormal. After that disastrous experience, she’d pushed her desires to the back of her mind. Part of her reason for becoming a sex therapist was to help others who were having problems. Maybe then she could come to terms with her own needs.

In reality, she buried herself in her work and other people’s problems. She didn’t know if the club would help. The pounding beat intensified her nerves, made her wonder if she should be there, if she’d made the wrong decision.

In one of her sessions, a female patient had described the thrill of being a submissive to a Dominant Master. The description sent a buzz zinging through her, a feeling she rarely experienced. While the woman talked, describing intimate details of having clamps attached to various body parts, Tessa’s body burned as she imagined sharp teeth biting into the delicate flesh.

It had occurred to her that maybe she needed that kind of relationship. Maybe she needed to be submissive. To her analytical mind, it made sense. Every day she experienced control—she was always the dominant personality. Her darkest sexual desires involved relinquishing some of that tightly held control to someone else.

To a Master.

Every time she thought about it, feelings of guilt arose. Maybe her ex-fiancé had been right. Wanting to be beaten and tied up wasn’t normal.

Taking her own advice, she’d pushed aside her fears and researched informal BDSM gatherings—munches, she'd learned they were called—and clubs in the area.

She’d taken weeks to work up the courage and now that she was here, Tessa hadn’t a clue what to do.

Various people milled around in different types of BDSM outfits. Many were subtle in their choices. Some were bolder, wearing their fetish like a badge. The heavy beat of sensual music thudded, throbbing in time with the crowd on the dance floor. Scents of alcohol, cologne and the musk of people packed together in a small space filled the air. Wearing a tailored black pencil skirt, slightly heeled boots and a black cotton shirt, Tessa stuck out like a sore thumb.

A blonde waitress stopped next to her table. You want a drink, honey?

She smiled at the young woman. At a guess, the girl was in her early twenties. Most likely a college student earning extra cash. The outfit she wore was, unsurprisingly, leather—a revealing black bustier and an obscenely short skirt. Her shoes, thigh-high latex without a heel. Sexy yet practical.

Vodka, no ice. She’d be grateful for something to hold, something that would soothe her nerves.

When the waitress smiled back, the knot of tension in Tessa’s stomach eased just a little. First time?

Is it that obvious? A blush rose in Tessa’s cheeks as the blonde laughed, and she tugged at the corner of her sleeve, rolling her eyes to hide her embarrassment. I think I’m a little overdressed.

You look fine. Although a bit more leather would be perfect. Winking, the waitress turned and headed back into the crowd, drink tray raised over her head. She wound her body perfectly through the throng of people. With a slight turn of her hip, she avoided any wandering hands.

Did she indulge in the pleasures of the club? She certainly looked the part.

Smiling, Tessa turned her attention back to the crowd. What would it take to get up and mingle? About another ten shots of vodka. Maybe more.

More of a voyeur than a participant, she drummed her fingernails on the table. So this was the kind of place where she could explore her submissive fantasies?

The night was not turning out as she’d expected. Then again, she hadn’t really known what to expect. Except for the leather. Leather was pretty much a given.

One vodka. No ice. The waitress set Tessa’s drink on a napkin and gave her a dazzling smile. Enjoy. And relax. They don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.

Tessa laughed. Thanks, I’ll remember that.

She reached into her purse and pulled out enough money to cover the drink and a generous tip. After all, the girl had been the first friendly face in the club.

Taking a sip of the cool alcohol, she let the vodka burn a pleasant path from her palate to her stomach and glanced up. Her heartbeat quickened as Mister Perfect White Teeth sidled up. He eased himself into the booth beside her. His spicy, citrus cologne wrapped itself around her, bled into her pores.

You look lonely.

Despite her attraction, she wanted to get up and walk away. She’d expected to observe, get used to the environment. She didn’t expect to get hit on, not on her first visit.

I’m fine. She flashed him a small smile. Thank you.

White Teeth held out his hand. I’m Karl.

Tessa. She slipped her hand into his, shook.

He had a strong handshake. She noted the veins running along his skin, signs he worked out. An image of him slapping that hand against her ass flashed into her mind. She shifted in her seat.

So, why are you here, Tessa? Are you looking to play?

Panic bubbled to the surface. Was she? Had she come here looking for precisely that? Best thing was to be honest.

She looked into his dark eyes. You’re straight to the point.

First time?

Was it that obvious? Did she have newbie tattooed on her somewhere? A great neon sign over her head?

She frowned. Yes, it’s my first time.

He leaned forward, brushed a strand of hair off her face. Submissive or Dominant?

Submissive. I think. Maybe, who knew? That’s what she was here to find out.

Okay. I’m going to ask you a question now, and I want you think about it.

She nodded. Intrigue and confusion lodged in her throat.

If you are not sure, how about we try a little experiment? They offer some cornered-off booths here, nothing too private. He laughed. "It’s not that kind of