Page 42 of On His Terms

There was only one way she knew of to decide whether or not she wanted to continue on. By testing her commitment.

Despite the fact she was tired and a little overwrought, she set an alarm for twenty minutes.

She knelt, then continually moved between the positions he’d taught her, from kneeling up to standing, from kneeling to inspect.

The repetition quickly became uncomfortable. Her muscles started to fatigue, and she glanced at the timer to discover she was only halfway through.

Drawing on the same determination that had gotten her this far in life, she kept going.

With five minutes remaining, she realized how badly her body hurt, and she was thinking of all the other things she could be doing, like a load of laundry, paying some bills, making a grocery list, even getting some much-needed sleep.

But instead of quitting, she pictured him standing in front of her, arms folded, legs spread in a commanding way. Then she imagined him ordering her onto her back so he could lick her pussy.

She stumbled.

The man had the power to discombobulate her, even when he wasn’t there. If she’d conjured that image while she had been in the shower, she absolutely would have been able to orgasm.

By the time the alarm rang, she was perspiring. She had to give credit to Brandy for her graceful movements. Making elegance appear effortless required a tremendous amount of work.

When Chelsea finally went to bed, she fell into a disturbed sleep, and she looked at the clock at least half a dozen times before dawn.

Finally, giving up, she tossed back the covers and practiced her moves before going to the office. Then, on her lunch break, she gathered up all her courage and telephoned Master Alexander.

He answered on the first ring. “Chelsea.”

Her heart fluttered.

“How are you doing emotionally?”

His concern for her well-being made her soar. “Much better, Sir.” And a good night’s sleep would help restore her equilibrium the rest of the way. “I appreciate you asking.”

“Anything specific you wish to discuss?”

“I wanted you to know you were right.”

“Oh?”

His voice, so rough, so sexy and inviting, made her toes curl in her pumps. “Last night and this morning, I thought a lot about BDSM being a journey, questioning whether it’s what I truly want, if I’m doing it for the right reasons. It’s more emotional than I expected, and rigorous.”

Another realization occurred, one at a much deeper level. He hadn’t spoken, and instead, he gave her the freedom to sort through her thoughts. “I’ve always believed that success is about mind over matter. Meaning that if I’m committed and keep pushing forward, I can do anything.”

“That can be a helpful mindset.”

“In general, maybe. But last night’s experience humbled me.”

He was silent for so long that she stood and paced the small confines of the room. At some point, she’d be able to afford a bigger space, but until You’re The Star reached the next level of success—signing a minor celebrity that they could make into an A-lister—the firm would have to make do.

“Is that necessarily a bad thing?”

As she considered his question, she swiped back a lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Perhaps you can reframe it as a breakthrough.”

If she learned from it, perhaps.

“Become stronger, more resilient?”

“I’d like that.”