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Copyright ©2007 by Sierra Cartwirght, Christy Lockhart, SL Majors First
published in 2007, 2007
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A Total-e-bound Publication
www.totalebound.com Naughty Nibbles Anthology
ISBN # 978-1-906328-23-8
THIS TIME ©Copyright Sierra Cartwright 2007
'213 HIGH STREET: PEEPSHOW’ ©Copyright Christy Lockhart 2007
IMAGINE ©Copyright SL Majors 2007
FED UP ©Copyright Sierra Cartwright 2007
BALLS TO THE WALLS ©Copyright SL Majors 2007
EVERYDAY IN A LETTER ©Copyright Christy Lockhart 2007
Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright July 2007
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz Total-e-bound books
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's
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NAUGHTY NIBBLES ANTHOLOGY
This Time
Sierra Cartwright
213 High Street: Peepshow
Christy Lockhart
Imagine
SL Majors
Fed Up
Sierra Cartwright
Balls to the Walls
SL Majors
Everyday, in a Letter
Christy Lockhart
* * * *
* * * *
THIS TIME
Sierra Cartwright
Dedication
Especially for BAB! Couldn't have done it without you!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Chapter One
Helpless, naked, splayed and bound, Emily concentrated on her breathing. In.
Out.
In...
She told herself to think about anything but what would happen next.
Her nerves were ragged, as if they'd been dragged across the wicked edge of the
blade that glinted on the wall in front of her. Determinedly, she closed her eyes
to block the image.
It didn't help.
Nothing would.
He'd left her here on purpose, to think, to change her mind. Over the past year,
she'd learned he acted only with deliberate intent.
She'd been a fool to leave ... and a bigger one to return.
The fact he hadn't sent her away when he'd set eyes on her two hours ago had
shocked her. It had shocked him as well, she'd seen it in the steely depths of his
grey eyes, the colour so dark and intense it reminded her of the North Sea during
a brewing storm...
Emily's hand had frozen on the door knocker, the brass heavy and cold beneath
the bite of England's chilly autumn evening. It'd taken her a full five minutes, her
back teeth chattering, to actually knock.
It'd taken his housekeeper at least that long again to answer.
"Agnes,” Emily said breathlessly.
"Dear me.” Agnes pressed her fingertips to the base of her throat. “You look half
froze."
"I'm here to see the master."
Agnes swallowed deeply. She'd been kind to Emily, but that was before Emily
had run away six months ago, sneaking out in the middle of the night with no
word to anyone.
Emily watched indecision chase across the younger woman's face. Duty and
kindness collided, leaving a frown burrowed between Agnes's brows.
Evidently obligation to Sir Sterling trumped her feelings for Emily. “Wait here."
With that, Agnes closed the door.
Emily tucked her hands inside her pockets and huddled deeper into her coat,
trying to keep out the vicious, humidity-laden wind. She waited. She paced. And
she waited some more.
It was a test, she knew.
This time, she wouldn't fail.
She'd sought him out once before. She'd dabbled in S&M and had found men
who didn't understand it, men who thought it was fantastic to have someone to
boss around and fuck when the urge hit. And she wanted more.
She'd heard of Sir Sterling's reputation at a club she had visited. He was
legendary on the D/s scene. And she'd wanted to be trained by him. Nothing but
the best for this educated princess.
"Emily."
Sterling. Master. She hadn't expected him to open the door.
Seeing him again after six months, so tall, so broad, so imposing, made her heart
leap. He was stunningly, classically handsome. His jawbone was squared, and it
had a hint of dark growth. He'd shaved, but not in the last few hours.
His hair was as black as a midnight moor and pulled back severely, secured by a
slim string of leather.
He smelled fresh, a tease of aristocratic masculinity mingled with the outdoors
of his land. She betrayed the emotion of raw need with her soft moan.
He always did that to her, made her forget sense and reason and training.
Her knees instinctively buckled to kneel in the threshold.
"I trust you have good reason to be here?” He paused and swept an insulting
glance from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, bared in the peek-a-boo
high heeled shoes. “Uninvited."
The whiplash in his voice made her stand up straight.
Surely she hadn't expected to be welcomed as the prodigal? Surely she hadn't
believed for a moment that he'd order her to strip and kneel for inspection? Or
invite her into his bed?
Behind him, warmth and light beckoned.
Determination had carried her this far. She'd brazen it out. She'd tried to live
without him, tried to go back to her safe little existence. But she'd been
consumed by thoughts of him. She needed Sir Sterling. “I'm back.” She tossed
her hair over her shoulder and did the forbidden—looked directly into the steeled
depths of his eyes. “I'm here to be the slave you want, the slave you demand."
"That position has been filled."
"You're a liar,” she said. With a biting smile and terrified pulse, she added,
“Master."
"Insulting.” He quirked a brow. “That may not be in your best interest."
"It was honest,” she corrected. “More honest than you just were.” At the worst,
he would beat her and send her away. And that would leave her no deeper in the
depths of misery than she was already living. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?
What you demanded? Why you said I failed. I wouldn't admit what I truly
wanted. Well, I'm here. Admitting. Asking."
He fisted a hand in her hair near her nape.
