We weren’t any different.
We were the same fucking way.
And the split took the better half of me…away.
Over and over, I lashed at my back. The weight of the wires and the rippled surface of the sheath had a nice bite. I couldn’t stop. I needed to hit the breaking point, past the tears and agony, to find peace.
The Lotus brand had been sensitive since being done. It wasn’t just another scar on my body; it was a scar to my soul, a portal to remind me of the one thing that bound Cruz and me together.
I was losing Iris.
But even worse was losing my lover.
“You want to be my boyfriend?” he charmed, loving his dick as mine waited at full attention. Pre-cum oozed from the tip, and all I wanted was a taste. “Answer me, slut.”
“Yes,” I said. “For you…I would do anything.”
“That’s dangerous,” he remarked, walking over and lowering on his knees before me. “I know who is the Master here. And it will never be me. I love you so much more than…”
“Everything.”
His lips engulfed around my cock, sucking and loving and healing. Tilting my head back, I knew I could keep his heart warm by my fires, and I would survive from the air in his lungs.
Kneeling on the floor, I breathed with borrowed time. I wouldn’t make it without him. I would kill myself out of sheer stupidity, my inability to keep the wolves from the door.
Everything was calm in the quiet as my back swelled, and the blood dripped from my arms. A light sheen of sweat covered my skin as the aura of nirvana I crafted in hell brought fleeting bliss and mind-numbing tranquility.
Bent over the glass top table, I drooled as he drilled his dick into my ass. The ropes laid in a mess by the pool, and we succumbed to the desire. He was such an unforgiving bastard—reckless and rebellious—and I clung to like a magnet to his love.
And I was his.
I was his.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked, stopping to gulp down an entire beer.
“I don’t know,” I replied as he lit a cigarette and gave me a drag.
“I’ll go get my princess whatever he wants.”
“You are such a fucker,” I hissed.
He maniacally cackled. “You’re the one bent over with my dick up your ass. Besides, do you know how many bitches would love to be you?”
“… Fucked up in a million ways?”
“No,” he said, rubbing my back. “Deacon Cruz’s lover, asshat.”
“Wings and bleu cheese.”
“Seriously?” he asked. “Okay. Let me cum, and I’ll go fetch.”
Latching our hands, I snickered, “Whose bitch, are you?”
He kissed the middle of my back and wrapped his arms around me. I had never been so safe from myself and the demons in my mind. Cruz was my holy straitjacket, and the only sin I needed. “Yours Salvatore. Always forever.”
On the sofa, I flipped channels and rested my hand on my dick. I was so fucking tired. It didn’t take long before I was dozing in and out. I was about to fall asleep, knowing I would stain another pair of pants with another dream of the girl I would never find.
Because she didn’t exist.
The rain pours from the heavy dark clouds, looming in an endless sky. Feeling the cum sticking between the gray sweatpants and my dick and balls and skin, I wake breathless, crying, and perspiring. I spot the coffee service and wonder how many times that poor schmuck has heard me come. Poor laundry ladies. What must they think?
“This has to fucking stop. Double shots are the end.”
Pouring a cup of coffee, I hear the knock at the door. I ignore it until I spot the do not disturb door hanger on my side of the door. “Fuck.”
Opening it up, I say, “I won’t need service to—day…what are you doing here, Skeet?”
With shining blue eyes, she smiles. “I was hoping I could serve you.”
75
Excommunicated
The Master
I glance around the room. “Oh, fuck…”
“Do you need me to come back?” she whispers as I stay hidden behind the door. I say nothing, utterly stunned. “I have a room. I’ll come back.” She winks.
I grab her hand. “Hannah… Help me.”
“Let me in,” she says. “And I will.”
With much humiliation, I allow her passage over the threshold into the truth. She glances around at the pile of rope, the electrical cord, and me. My skin is covered in bruises and dried blood droplets. With a trembling lip, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Hush,” she mutters, setting down her purse and removing her coat. She wanders through the hotel room, and I hear the shower come on. “When did you do this?”
“Last night.”
“I knew I should’ve taken the earlier flight,” she criticizes. “I’m going to help you, but I need you to trust me.” Taking a deep breath, she unbuttons her white shirt and tosses it onto her coat.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not staining that shirt,” she informs as my mouth gapes open at the sight of her silk vanilla camisole and bra. “I spent a fortune on it.” She kicks off her heels and crouches low in front of me. She spots the cum stain, which is double the normal, as her eyes drift up to meet mine. “You’ve got to stop this.”
Her breasts are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
She reaches around my midsection, and her hands slip onto my ass. “Holy stop!”
“No,” she says. “I’m not stopping. You can throw me out or accept my love.”
“Hannah…” Before I can stop her, she yanks my pants down.
She sits back on her heels and twists her lips off to one side as she studies my art. “So, you untied your cock but not your balls?”
“Pretty much, but they’re not tight.” I cover my face with my hands as waves of embarrassment hit like a tidal wave. Her head tilts, and she assesses the intricacy of the mess. “I can get it off.”
“Clearly, you can get off…” She grins and swipes the clothespin off with the exact amount of pain.
“Fuck!”
“Get your ass back over here!” she scolds as I bounce around in a Hannah-dance. “Right now!”
The last three come off with the same sting as tears water from my eyes. “Where did you learn this?”
“I don’t know a damned thing about this,” she giggles. “But you were after something,” she says. Her slender fingers unknot the ropes, and I notice my Nonna’s ring. “I am not a top.”
“… Are you a sadist?”
“Maybe,” she mumbles, pulling the rope from between my ass cheeks. “Where did you learn this?”
“Cruz.”
“My brother is into some kinky shit,” she marvels, standing. “I’m impressed by many things. Go take a shower.”
I stay under the hot water longer than necessary, mostly because I don’t want to face this girl. She not only gets it but passes no judgements. I finally emerge into the living area with a towel wrapped around my waist. The space is spotless—free of the debris from my skirmish—and a cup of coffee waits on the table.
“I pulled you out some clothes and left them on the bed,” she says, enjoying her coffee. Her pretty blouse and heels are back on. “Something wrong?”
“You cleaned up…”
“Yeah, I did,” she says. “Go get dressed.”
Drying my hair, I return to the room and toss my white t-shirt in the chair. She walks over and spins my back for her inspection. Her hands flutter over the wounds. “How bad is it?”
“It could be worse.” She examines my arms as I look at her. “I’m more concerned about the lacerations on your arms. Where are you going?”
“I’m taking a brief five-day vacation in Kyoto before going to the palace for training.”
“You need to keep them clean.”
“I will,” I assure as someone knocks on the door.
“That’s room service,” she says. “Y
ou need to eat.” She welcomes the young man in, and he rolls the cart over near the table. “Thank you.” She signs the ticket and smiles before shutting the door.
“Where the fuck did you come from?”
“Little Bee?”
“No,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Why are you here doing this for me?”
She lifts her hand to show the ring off. “I’m your best friend.”
“And friends commonly unwind rope off balls first thing in the morning?”
She lightly shrugs. “You do whatever is necessary.”
“This doesn’t bother you.”
Rubbing her nose, she says, “Hold on. I’m going to sneeze.” Ahh—choo.
“Bless you.”
“Sorry,” she says, blinking. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Should it?”
“You are just unfazed by it is all,” I reply. “And that is different.”
“You aren’t trying to kill yourself,” she comments. “You’re trying to load pain to subside the crazy wavelengths in your brain. Kind of like when I go shopping.”
I furrow my brow and smile. “… Shopping?”
“Yeah,” she giggles with a wide grin. “Come, eat with me.”
“First, let me introduce myself, I am Sal Raniero,” I say, extending my hand. She slips her fingers in mine, and I suddenly pull her closer. “And, you are amazing.”
“I’m your Skeet.” She cautiously lays her hand on my chest, which seems awkward since half an hour ago, she was fondling my dick. But I understand the difference between her helping me out of a bind, no pun intended, and having an intimate moment. “And I’m here for whatever you need.”
“Let’s take all this over to the sofa and chill.”
“Can we spin the sofa towards the window?”
“Yes, I can,” I say. “What else do you need, baby?”
“I need to run to my room and change.”
“I’ve got clothes,” I offer.
“Do they have cum stains?” she bluntly asks.
I lean my head back and grin. “I have clean clothes.”
“Damn!” Her smile turns serious as I lay my hand on her cheek and kiss her lips. I slowly dip my tongue against hers, and we breathe in one another. “I’m crazy about you.”
“You’re not alone in that feeling,” I admit, swooping her up in my arms. She squeals as I carry her into the bedroom. I set her on the bed. “May I take off your clothes?”
“You don’t have to ask.”
I carefully unbutton her blouse and take off her shoes before going to the dresser. “Are you cold or hot-natured?”
“I’m always cold unless it’s ninety degrees.”
“I start sweating at seventy-five,” I say, grabbing my RR sweatshirt. “You may not cut this.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Startled by the word, I quickly turn as she stands up and drops her pants. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m not a top, Sal,” she whispers. “I wasn’t trying to be this morning, but you needed some rank pulled on your ass, boy.”
“What are you?”
“A caregiver for those I love,” she admits, pulling off the camisole and unhooking the bra. “I like taking care of you.”
She pulls the shirt on, and it swallows her curves. “I should just leave you in your panties.”
“Whatever you wish.”
Lifting the hem of the shirt, she spins to show off my favorite pair of white lace. I lunge two steps and pummel my body against hers. She falls back onto the bed. I stand and hover over as her legs bend fast, welcoming my frame. I kiss her lips, licking and nipping. “I want you so fucking bad, Hannah…”
Her hands smooth over my arms as I yank up the shirt and cradle one of her breasts in my hands. With my mouth mere inches away from the ripe peak, I’m on the verge of drooling. “Do it,” she encourages as my eyes dart to her blues. “Please.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“We’re both adults.”
“You’re a teenager,” I correct with a mischievous grin. “Ten years…”
“I kicked your ass this morning,” she challenges. “How many women could’ve done that?”
With a heavy breath, I confide, “None.”
“Then ignore the numbers, Papi.” She winks. My mouth wraps around her nipple, and I suckle as her hands stroke through my damp hair, and she arches her legs out even more. “Yes…Sal …don’t stop…”
I run kisses down her belly and my tongue toys with her belly button piercing. My fingers curl around the waistband of the lace. “In my mind, your hot, wet pussy on my mouth all the time.”
“You should’ve done something about that sooner.”
“I didn’t know how,” I confide. “I’ve never been with…”
“Someone my age?”
“Ya. But you’re like a girl,” I say, nuzzling my nose against the fabric. “Fuck, you smell like heaven.”
“Why am I a girl?”
“Everything about you is girly, babe,” I confess, pulling the front of the fabric down and swooping my tongue in her slit. She is sweet and succulent. “Can I just lick you for hours?”
“Yes, but I will come…a lot…because I love you.”
On my knees, I peer up between her thighs. “I am in love with you.”
Dandy.
I see her smile. I hear her laughter. I feel her kisses. I smell her hair. I taste her skin.
And then, it shifts...
I see her with him.
I hear her whispers to him.
I feel her kisses intensify.
I smell him on her skin.
I taste his cum on her lips.
My taste buds know his essence.
And Iris does too.
God, it turns me on.
She wailed his name when she came.
She wailed his name when she came.
I can’t go back.
Correction, Nero.
—Change the program. Flip the station.
Reprogram the codex, fucker.
You can do it.
She wailed his name when she came.
I will never have
—true submission.
Somethings aren’t meant to be.
Iris and me.
Iris and Deacon.
Deacon and me.
She wailed his name when she came.
Light the motherfucking fuse, asshole.
Get out. Run. Go. Go. Go.
We were a little too drunk on the love to care about what that meant when we got in bed together. We never saw the sideswipe coming. And in the wreckage of whatever we were, bodies and limbs lay listless and still.
I can’t save them.
—and that hurts.
Rising like a phoenix from the embers,
I stagger away.
Addiction is easy.
Recovery kicks my ass to a swamp drawl.
Balance me, please. Balance me.
Just when I’ve found the ground, the plates shift from deep in the oceans, and the winds sway the new shape of love.
She wailed his name when she came.
And I travel far...so far...on bare feet to find a remedy to cure the ache, but they find me because I’m bright and hot and red like love.
Cruz builds my blaze.
Iris and I steam, dispersing into his air.
I need land to fucking burn, and those burns to rebirth with a promise in the dirt.
I need a goddamned landslide.
I need ground somewhere.
A rock formation with a steep incline where I can escape the water and embrace the fuel of the breeze and find clarity amongst the trees.
Fire. Ashes. Dust.
Cycle over and over and over…
“I can’t fix this.”
And that failure…that loss…
—is going to hurt for a long-damned time.
My eyes sweep over the landscape.
Welcome home, Raniero, Ya bastard.<
br />
Blaze hard.
No amount of time would’ve gotten me there…
I could’ve spent my whole life never to find it…
It never would’ve gotten me into the cage…
Because she didn’t invite me…
She wailed his name when she came.
Because I permitted it.
I allowed it.
I welcomed it.
This affair is on me.
I am the Master.
Iris held the key to my heart
—by fucking breaking mine.
And the key was
—Cruz.
Fuck off, Hope.
Real is taking this home for the win.
76
Deliverance
The Master
After spending four hours worshipping Skeet’s temple, she curled into my arm and fell asleep. I stroked her cheek for a long time until I gave it up to the sandman. I woke up with her on top of me, kissing my chest and working her way down.
“Are you going to see what you’re getting into?”
“Yeah, I need a closer examination of old dick.” I smirk, and she laughs. Running kisses over my belly, she lifts the edge of the sweats and peeks inside. And then she looks at me, wide-eyed, and grinning like my cock is the best thing she’s ever seen. “I’ve…never…been…with…”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I whisper with a grin, caressing her cheek. “And if it does, I’ll take the jewelry out.” I glance at her and catch a glimpse of the nervous young girl that I don’t see very often. “… What’s wrong?”
“Honestly,” she says, laying her forehead against my belly. “I’m starving, and I don’t want to offend you.”
“Hey, hey,” I reply, reaching for her. “I am yours to explore at will. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But you are going to let me feed you.”
I move to slide out from underneath her, so she doesn’t feel obligated. I stand as she sits on the bed with her legs curled off to the side. “But, you’re hard…”
Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 63
