But everyone calls me Gabby. Another subtle sign of confidence and power she always appreciated. She puzzled at his question. You look more like a Gabrielle to me. An intelligent and curious woman who may be in over her head at the moment, though. In fact, the dizziness had faded and been replaced with an unexpected serene calm.

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I recognize the sounds of your need. Gabby shifted her hand and moved her finger over the hard little nub. The gasp she tried to bite back fell from her lips. Can anyone see you? No one can see me unless they come in through the gate.

That pleases me. The phone began to slip in her hand, and she tightened her grip to maintain her hold. Shifting back into place, she grasped it closer to her ear. You want me to tell me you to come. Ask me. Let me hear how much you need it. Convince me. Still, she followed his instructions. She moved her fingers in a quick in and out motion that created increasingly more friction.

Come for me. Her body shook, knocking the phone from her hand, and she screamed out her pleasure. Never before in her life had she come this hard. Master Thomas did this to her. Oh crap…the phone. She scooped it up and pressed it to her ear as quickly as she could. Are you there? I like hearing the sounds you make when you enjoy yourself.

Now, before you go inside and clean yourself up, I want you to find a pen and paper. Can you do that for me? Prepared—I like that, too. Write this down. Tonight at p. I also called to speak with you about a job. Fresh heat crept up her neck and face. But I believe, now, that we need to spend some time together beyond that.

Which changes my requirements for tonight. So tonight, you will come dressed in a skirt with no panties. When you arrive at that address at eight sharp, you will let yourself in without knocking. You will not move or speak until you are instructed. Do you understand these instructions? She barely knew this man, and he expected her to walk into a strange house that might or might not be his and bare her bottom for God knew what? It could very well be worth the exploration, and the small dare I ask you to make.

Do you trust her? However, these are my non-negotiable terms. I hope you will come, but if you do not, then I will wish you well in your search and hope we can become friends. Goodbye, Gabrielle. Despite that, she sat there stunned and unmoving for several minutes. Was he serious? Really serious? She would have to be crazy to put herself in a position like that. Gabby eventually put the phone down and attempted to fix her skirt.

She still sat exposed with the fresh air and sunshine beating down on her and now she desperately need to talk to Angel. But first, she wanted a shower and a chance to recover from what had happened in her quiet and usually boring garden on an otherwise average Carolina sunny afternoon. How had that happened? And should it continue? She was right. I do worry way too much. This was about letting go of the past and becoming who she craved to be.

Can I do it? Four Gabby turned her car down Franklin Street, and her anxiety soared to an all-new level. A glance at the dashboard clock said ten minutes until her deadline, and she still wondered what the hell she was doing. What would Thomas do to her if she went through with this? Surely he would touch her, but how far did he intend to push her in one night? Her mind raced with myriad possibilities as fear gripped her so tight she found herself strangling the steering wheel.

Get a grip Gabby. A gamut of emotions coursed through her; fear, excitement, arousal, curiosity, and…her arms trembled…more fear. A bark of nervous laughter pressed through her lips. Angel and Jeff had assured her repeatedly that nothing bad would happen to her, and that Thomas could be trusted with her safety. Those assurances had been enough for her to get this far, but as she searched the numbers on every mailbox, she considered giving up and returning home.

Who could blame her for wanting to get to know a man before letting him dominate her? Yeah, too late for that Gabby. Gabby sighed. She spied the number three hundred and ten on a black mailbox encased in brick and quickly turned to the right into the drive. A wrought iron gate stood open as if awaiting her arrival. She slowly drove beyond it and up the winding driveway. The house loomed in front of her, large and old. The few gaslights that were lit out front did little other than cast shadows across the footpath that led to the front door.

Compared to her modest uptown townhouse she was way out of her league. She parked her car close to the walkway and strained to see through the inky darkness. No other cars were in sight. She shook her head and banned the negativity from her mind. These houses typically had hidden garages around back. Gabby took a deep breath and rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a minute, releasing the air one short puff at a time.

Get a grip, Gabby. She walked to the front door and automatically reached for the doorbell. Lucky for her, she caught herself in mid-air seconds before she pressed it. She struggled with her social conditioning as she complied with his directions. Nerves jumped in her belly at the thought of walking into the wrong house and finding herself in more trouble than she could handle. She opened it noiselessly and peeked through a crack in the door, afraid someone would catch her.

Just inside she spied a long narrow foyer leading to what she presumed would be the living area. Gabby crept through the doorway and quietly closed it behind her. She tiptoed toward the back of the house, trying not to click her heels on the hardwood floor. The room opened up into an inviting space filled with comfortable furniture and a large screen television as the focal point.

She hustled over to the coffee table, set her purse and keys down and stepped to the end of the couch as instructed.

Her body curved around the large rolled end as she wiggled into place—head down, ass up. She took a deep breath and lifted her skirt on the exhale. Gabby squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to be afraid. She prayed it would indeed be Thomas who found her. Minutes ticked by. She squirmed and fidgeted against the sofa, beyond restless and antsy. Go back to her own house, her safe life and reconsider why this had seemed like a good idea. She should have her head— A large, warm hand caressed her right butt cheek, sending a hard shudder up her spine.

Gabby sucked in her breath. Her adrenaline spiked.


Submissive Beauty

What book should readers start with? Especially if you like your romance novels super steamy with dominant alpha males. It is free, the first novel of my main series and available at all major retailers. While each book in the Purgatory Masters is a standalone romance, they are interconnected and I would recommend they be read in order. But if you are an absolute series purist and want to begin where I began then you need to start with Roped this one is also free.


Eliza Gayle

One Gabby turned in her chair to stand and bolt for the door when the room lights flickered out and the spotlights on the stage in front of her lit up. The sea of strangers chatting around her immediately ceased their conversations and sat riveted, waiting for the demonstration to begin. If she left now and hurried, she might still make it home before NCIS started… Or she could stay and watch the show alone. Curiosity about the infamous Sanctuary got the best of her and kept her butt in the chair. What would a few more minutes matter anyway? Before she could change her mind again, a platinum blonde wearing a red latex dress ambled onto the stage in four-inch spike heels.

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