Her Royal Master: Master Me, #1

By Renee Rose

"This is punishment, beautiful. You disobeyed. You will feel my displeasure."

Three days for five grand and the ultimate reporter's scoop.
I just have to make myself available to six royal bad boys on a yacht. How hard could it be?

Except the Devil Duke sees right away I'm not a professional and now he's holding me captive. Training me in the art of submission. Keeping me away from the real story.

He won't let me go until I sign a confidentiality agreement.
Which i'm not going to do.
So that leaves me at his mercy...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renee Rose
• Release date: May 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201729387

Renee Rose

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE loves a dominant, dirty-talking alpha hero! She's sold over a million copies of steamy romance with varying levels of kink. Her books have been featured in USA Today's Happily Ever After and Popsugar. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won Spunky and Sassy's Favorite Sci-Fi and Anthology author, The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and has hit the USA Today list seven times with her Wolf Ranch books and various anthologies.**Sign up to receive a FREE ebook: subscribepage.com/alphastemp**Visit her blog at www.reneeroseromance.com**Follow Renee at www.Facebook.com/ReneeRoseRomance - She loves to chat with readers!**Follow her on Instagram at www.instagram.com/reneeroseromanceWHAT OTHERS ARE SAYING ABOUT RENEE'S BOOKS:"I savor Renee Rose's books as if they were the finest of champagnes" ~USA Today Bestselling Author Sierra Cartwright"Renee Rose has an ability to write the most captivating, most intriguing, and the hottest books around." ~ USA Today Bestselling Author Alta Hensley"A sexy tale for modern women that's as steamy as a locker room shower." ~Kirkus Reviews"I've been completely blown away by this series" ~The Romance Reviews"Nobody writes a bad boy hero like Renee Rose" ~USA Today Bestselling Author Cara Bristol"If you are looking for a romance you can lose yourself in and think fondly of for days after, look no further. This is a Renee Rose book and this author is very good at what she does." ~USA Today Bestselling Author Maren Smith"If you like spanking romance that's not too crazy hard but not too icky soft, and has lots of nice, special touches, read Renee Rose." ~NYT & USA Today Bestselling BDSM author Annabel Joseph"If you're going to read spanking romance, Renee Rose writes it H-O-T." ~USA Today Bestselling BDSM Author Natasha Knight"I have yet to read a book by Renee Rose that I don't enjoy so much as to read it again and again." ~Bottoms Up Book Reviews

Book preview

Her Royal Master

A Bad Boy Billionaire

Renee Rose

Burning Desires

Copyright © January 2018 by Renee Rose

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All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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Published in the United States of America

Renee Rose Romance

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Editor:

Maggie Ryan

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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within. In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

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Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

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Her Russian Master - Excerpt

Acknowledgments

About Renee Rose

Other Titles by Renee Rose

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I WARNED YOU.

I told you not to set foot in my casino again. I told you to stay away. Because if I see those hips swinging around my suite, I’ll pin you against the wall and take you hard. And once I make you mine, I’m not gonna set you free.

Because I’m king of the Vegas underground and I take what I want.

Read now

1

Day One

Chelsea

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Naked, chained to a wall on the Prince of Halsburg’s yacht, I struggled to breathe. The other four girls bound near me giggled and flirted. Apparently they’d understood what they’d signed up for. Welcomed and enjoyed being stripped and put into bondage by a group of testosterone-laden young royals who had more interest in the silver platter of cocaine than the naked women strung up for them.

Me? I’d bitten off more than I could chew. In so many ways. I had no business being here. For one thing, I wasn’t a call girl like the rest of them. And I wasn’t here for the money, although five grand for three days’ worth of work had sounded amazing.

But now, I was pretty sure I was going to die. And if I did happen to survive this insane experience, I would probably come out so scarred, I’d be damaged goods for life.

One of the young prince’s party boy entourage fastened a collar around my neck. I jerked my head away, which brought a sharp slap across my face. He pinched my cheeks, scrunching my lips up.

None of that, or you’ll get your first whipping. His tone sounded cruel through the thick Austrinian accent, but he grinned as he twisted to look over his shoulder at his friends. This was all just a big game to the pretty boy young royals. This one’s feisty. I heard enthusiasm in his voice, like he relished putting me in my place. Big shot dom wanted to show off his skills to his playboy friends.

Jesus, fuck. What had I gotten myself into?

He tightened the collar, and I gagged against it.

Too tight, I choked. I had strangulation issues. Always had. When I was a kid, my brother knew my best tickle spot was my neck because I hated being touched there. So it’s possible the collar wasn’t too tight, and it was my own panic that made me hyperventilate, but knowing that didn’t help.

My vision tunneled as I fought for breath. Lights started to dance in front of my eyes. I yanked at the wrist cuffs pinned to the wall above the giant, room-sized orgy bed, but couldn’t twist my hands free.

Through my hazy vision, I saw a dark figure approach.

Oh God—not him. Anyone but him.

Darius, the prince’s older and disgraced cousin. The angry, tattooed black sheep of the Halsburg royal family. His brows were down in slashes, mouth firm, and his gaze was locked on me.

I squirmed harder against my bonds. Of all the wild party boys, Darius was the last one I wanted to piss off. He’d been charged with assault and battery on his girlfriend last year in a scandal that rocked the entire royal family and solidified the nickname he’d earned in his twenties—the Devil Duke.

He leaned over me. Lip curled in scorn, he slid a finger under my collar. You’re not choking, princess. For some reason, his accent was sexier than the rest of theirs. He unbuckled the collar anyway, and I went limp with relief.

I’m taking this one. He unclipped my wrist cuffs.

What? the prince called over the noise of boisterous laughter. Where are you going?

I need a little private time with her.

Hell no! We want to watch, one of them called in a stuffy British accent.

Oh, come on, another jeered. We’re already short a girl, and Darius has to take one for himself?

My heart slammed against my ribs. My head swam, and I was pretty sure I was close to cardiac arrest.

The duke pulled my wrists to lift me toward him, then angled his wide shoulder under me, tossing me upside down over it.

I shrieked, kicking, and his fingers tightened on my thigh as he strode out of the bedroom and into the tiny corridor. I swung my head around, catching a view of the expensive, wood-paneled walls and the duke’s muscled ass, which filled his worn designer European jeans in a way that ought to be illegal. The duke’s black dog, Shadow, trotted behind us, tail wagging, trying to lick my face, like it was a big game.

Fucking dom wannabes, I thought I heard Darius mutter before he kicked open a door at the end of the hallway, and I went flying onto a queen-sized bed in a small bedroom.

He shut the door, commanding his dog to stay outside, and folded his arms over his well-built chest. Okay, little girl. Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?

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~.~

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Six Hours Earlier

Chelsea

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Ishoved my earplugs in deeper to block out the sound of my roommate puking and reread the lead paragraph of the long interview I’d written about an American who called herself DJ Sunshine. My feature on the rise and popularity of female DJs in Ibiza would hopefully prove to my editor at Rolling Stone that I wasn’t just partying in Spain for the summer, but covering cutting edge music news.

And prove to myself that following Derek, aka, DJ Deadbeat—my boyfriend at the time—to the hip Spanish island hadn’t been a total loss.

My roommate, Allegra, stopped heaving and groaned.

I sighed and pulled out the earplugs. I should see if she needed anything. I hardly knew the tall, leggy model from Italy. Basically, we had nothing in common, other than both needing a place to stay for the month that didn’t cost an arm and a leg.

I’d moved in last week after I’d finally admitted to myself that Derek’s immersion in ecstasy and the party lifestyle was more than recreational.

I headed out to the bathroom, but a knock at the door interrupted my planned check-in. Damn. I hoped it wasn’t Derek.

A tall blonde with a miniscule waist and fake boobs stood at the door, her face tight. Where’s Allegra? she demanded in a thick Slavic accent—probably Russian.

She’s sick. She’s been throwing up since midnight last night.

No, the blonde groaned, slapping her pretty forehead through a thick layer of makeup. She pushed her way through the door on her red fuck-me stilettos.

The sound of retching from the bathroom made her stop and wrinkle her nose.

She turned and looked speculatively at me—a full up and down sweep. You’re pretty enough. You look a little like her. Can you take her place?

On a model shoot?

No. She tapped one manicured nail against the screen of her phone in a rapid nervous gesture. Escort.

Escort. And I’d thought Allegra was a model.

She glanced at the screen of her cell phone. The Prince of Halsburg has a yacht leaving in thirty minutes. I needed six girls. Already one canceled. I can’t show up with four, he will never contract with me again.

The Prince of Halsburg? As in the future ruler of Austrinia?

Five thousand Euros for three days; confidentiality is assured. Required, actually. I’ll give you a bonus of one thousand Euros for stepping in at the last minute. But don’t tell the other girls.

Whoa, whoa, what?

An escort to the hot young royal whose face had adorned every tabloid for the last two years? The Prince of Halsburg was in Ibiza, and I’d missed it? What kind of reporter was I, anyway? The young twenty-two-year-old royal was fast following his older cousin, Darius, in developing a reputation for partying, showing up in places like Ibiza, London, Paris and New York with an entourage of