MasonsRule-ARe Read Free Page B

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    "Take five steps back and remove your clothes. Slowly."
    This was it. Her do or don't moment with the mysterious and enigmatic Mason Sinclair. Did she or didn't she? Her indecision only lasted a few seconds, but in her head it felt like a long time. On shaky legs, she did as he commanded and took five small steps away from him.
    "Eyes on me at all times, Miss Adams."
    She lifted her lashes and met his dark gaze directly. Again, the intensity stole her breath. Yes, the demand still came through loud and clear. But now she saw more. Lust? Want? It was hard to tell exactly, but it was enough to fortify her.
    She reached for the buttons near her throat and began undoing them. Thank goodness she'd worn this blouse and not the one with the tiny buttons. She would have been here all night trying to get those undone.
    "Whatever you're thinking about, stop. When a Dom asks you to perform a task, he expects you to comply for his pleasure, which means you need to focus on him."
    "Okay. Uh… I mean, yes, Sir."  
    A small satisfied smile crossed his lips and she adored the slight transformation. For a second, he appeared far more approachable and even more impossibly gorgeous. Heat shot through her and gave her an added boost of courage she needed. She peeled the blouse from her shoulders and when he held out his hand for it, she gave it over.  
    Without taking his eyes from her bra-clad breasts, he draped the silk shirt over a nearby chair.  
    "Continue," he said.
    She found her unusual predicament quite empowering. Sure, he issued a command she now followed. But the further she went, the more confidence it gave her, because he was reacting to every inch she bared. He genuinely seemed to enjoy what he saw.
    Next she unzipped her straight skirt and shimmied the fabric over hips that were fuller than she liked. She might have more padding than he was used to, but she never let that bother her and she wasn't going to start now. Women with generous curves always looked special in her mind, in a sexy, old school Hollywood way. What she had taken a token amount of time to indulge in was her love for everything vintage. Had her life turned out differently, her chosen career path might have looked a lot more creative than investigative journalist.  
    Or bloodhound, as her editor liked to call her.
    "Rebecca?"  
    She jerked her head up at his question, realizing she'd stopped mid-strip.
    "If you're too shy to take your clothes off in front of me, I'm afraid this situation is going to be extremely difficult."
    "I'm not afraid." She pushed at her skirt until the fabric pooled at her feet. When she stepped free, she noticed his gaze locked onto her high-heeled shoes. Ding . Point one in her favor. She chose carefully from her meager collection and opted on the most flattering spiked stilettos with thin leather straps fastened around her ankles. When she bent forward and reached for the shiny silver buckle, he turned his heated gaze back to hers.
    "Leave them on." The husky sound of his request slid across her skin like a sensual caress, making her pulse pound harder in her ears.
    Her nipples bunched underneath the lace of her bra and tiny tingles erupted between her legs. At this rate, she'd never get undressed without begging him to end the bad sex karma she hadn't even realized was getting to her.
    "Please continue," he said.
    Rebecca reached behind her and unhooked the metal clasp of her bra and slid the straps down her arms. The cool air of the room hit her sensitive areola and a small moan slipped out before she could stop it. His eyes widened and she felt her panties grow damp. She started to cross her arms across her middle, but the stern look on his face stopped her in time.  
    "Cup them for me, sweetheart. Never try to hide such beauty. Ever."
    Rebecca ignored the heat of her rising blush and followed his instructions. She scooped her ample breasts and pushed them together in a way she hoped he found pleasing. It was so hard