Master of My Heart

by Marissa Honeycutt

  “You are made for this,” the man continues in a soft voice. “You are made to please men. To spread your legs and give us immeasurable pleasure.” He reaches out and slides a gentle hand against my neck. “Your body, once awakened, will crave cock.”

  I flinch at his crude words and look away. He chuckles and slides his hand down to my clavicle. I shudder, then suck in a breath as he moves lower to my breast and cups it gently.

  “No,” I whisper as he caresses me over my tank top. It feels good. How can that feel good? Am I so weak? My nipple tingles and I resist pressing toward him.

  He steps even closer. “You were made for my pleasure, Sabrina. To pleasure me and anyone I deem worthy of your attention.” He brushes over my nipple slightly, and I grit my teeth against the feeling. “You are a sexual creature, made to use your body to please and seduce.”

  “You think so little of women?” I snap, praying the anger will extinguish the growing feelings of need inside me.

  “Not women. You. Women are beautiful and desirable, yes. But you are special. So very special.”

  He leans down and kisses my neck, sucking gently. I tilt my head, then realize what I’ve done and slap him. Khyan grabs my hands and pins them behind me, pressing my wrists into my lower back.

  The man leans back and smiles as he studies me. “You have no choice, Sabrina. You will give in.”

  I spit at him. “Never.” The man’s amusement irritates me, and I narrow my eyes.

  “Shall I tell you what you really are?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not human, Sabrina.”

  “Of course I’m human. What else would I be?”

  He shakes his head, that damn amused look on his face again. “You’re Immortal. The product of an Immortal and a human woman.” He shrugs slightly. “Well, that’s where it started. Your mother was three-quarters Immortal. She bred with an Immortal and had you. You are so much more. So much of what I’ve desired for so long.”

  I stare at him, not knowing whether I should believe him or not. I mean, why would he tell me the truth about anything? What reason do I have to believe anything that comes out of this man’s mouth?

  “You don’t believe me?”

  I frown. “How do you know about my mother?”

  “Your birth mother? Because I was there. I was there when you were born. I was there when you were conceived. I had your great-grandmother brought to me so that, eventually, you would be born for me.”

  “You’re only . . . What? Thirty-five? How is that possible?”

  “I look this age, but I am much, much older.” He waves his hand absently in the air. “You will meet the women later and know I am telling you the truth. Not that it matters if you believe me or not. It is the truth.”

  He steps toward me again. Khyan holds me still as the man reaches for my breast. I squirm as he grabs hold of my nipple and squeal when he pinches it.

  “Undress,” he commands, and my eyes widen as I feel the need to obey him.

  I shake my head, even as I realize I’m doing what he told me to do. I remove my shirt and bra, glaring at him as they drop to the floor.

  He gives a wicked smile. “You’re obeying my commands. Why?”

  “I don’t know!” I growl as I unbutton my jean shorts and shove them down.

  “You obey because you must. You are, by nature, a slave. A slave to the men whose blood runs gold with the essence of the Immortals.”

  “I’m not a slave!”

  “Take my cock in your hand,” he commands softly, and I look down to see his penis jutting out from his hips. I’ve never seen one in real life and I swallow in fear, even as I find myself reaching for it.

  “No,” I whisper, then wrap my hand around him.

  “Good girl,” he says, placing his hand on mine. “You feel your true nature coming forward. You will obey me, whether you want to or not. That is the Immortalness inside you, obeying my authority.” He moves my hand up and down his penis. I swallow and look away. “Lie down on the bed.”

  I try to resist, but can’t stop myself from crawling onto the bed. I curl into a ball to hide my nakedness from their lust-filled eyes. The only thing I can do to rebel.

  “Roll to your back and spread your legs.”

  I whimper as my body obeys, then stare hard at the ceiling through my tear-filled eyes. Stop obeying! Fight! Why am I doing this?

  The man sits next to me and leans down to kiss my breast. When he sucks on my nipple, my eyes close as heat spreads through my body.

  “No,” I whisper, and he laughs.

  “Yes.” He sucks hard. I gasp and arch up to him. “Give in, Sabrina. You are made to enjoy sex.” He leans over and sucks on my other nipple while pinching and tugging on the first.

  My body betrays my mind and I wiggle and moan under his ministrations. No! I scream in my head, but my body doesn’t listen. He continues his gentle assault on my breasts until I’m writhing under him and wanting him to do more. I want him to touch me where I’ve never been touched. I want him to do things to me that I’ve never even imagined before. I want to have sex with him, with this man who is making my body betray my mind.

  He kisses down my stomach, and I clench my muscles with every gentle touch. I keep expecting him to hurt me, but aside from the pinching, which feels good in a strange way, his touch, his hands, his mouth . . . It’s all unexpectedly gentle. I wish he’d hurt me so I could hate it.

  When his fingers brush between my legs, I gasp and spread them open farther. Then I wonder what he’ll think of my hairless sex. Girls my age all have hair.

  “Sheer perfection,” he says, teasing me with his fingers. “Have you ever wondered why you didn’t mature like your friends?”

  “I did. Mostly . . .”

  “No hair, no periods, right?”

  I swallow and nod, embarrassed. When I got back, my parents were going to take me to the doctor if I hadn’t started. We just assumed I was a late bloomer.

  “You’ll always have a beautiful bare pussy and . . . Well, you’re not meant to reproduce, so you’ll never get a period.”

  “What?” I exclaim, meaning to sit up and stare, but when he kisses the inflamed skin, all thoughts leave my head.

  Something hot and gentle probes the most intimate place on my body and I arch my back at the sensations. I’m lost in the feeling and can think of nothing except the flicks against this sensitive place on my body.

  “Sit her up so she can see what I’m doing, Khyan,” the man says.

  Khyan moves behind me, leaning me against his naked chest. “Watch,” he whispers into my ear. “Watch your Master devour you.”

  I feel the same compulsion to obey him and stare in bewilderment as the man Khyan calls my Master kisses my most private place with a gentle passion. His tongue probes between the outer lips, and when it flicks against the upper part, the most intense feeling shoots through my body. His eyes meet mine as he spreads me open with his fingers and presses his whole mouth against me. I stiffen as he sucks hard. I can’t breathe as his tongue moves against me.

  Khyan reaches forward and tugs on my nipples. I want to close my eyes, but the man’s gaze won’t let me go. He shifts his body and I see his tongue flicking rapidly against me.

  “Give in to the feelings,” Khyan whispers into my ear. “Give in to your body and let it sing.”

  When the man presses against me again and sucks, I feel something building up inside me.

  “No,” I whisper desperately, not wanting and wanting it at the same time. I try to resist what they want me to do, but I am too weak. The feeling builds and builds until something finally erupts inside of me and my body explodes with golden light. I fly into a sky filled with fireworks and scream in wild, abandoned lust. I feel nothing except the sexual energy inside me, a
nd it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Better than a standing ovation, better than leaping through the air, better than anything I’ve ever felt, and I never want it to end.

  “Give it to him,” I hear Khyan’s voice somewhere far away and my body releases all tension . . . all sense of independence. I am one with the gods and never want to leave.

  A while later, I open my eyes slowly and jump when I see the man sitting next to me. He smiles, not kindly, at me. “I told you that you would enjoy it.” I try and turn away, but the man grabs my arms. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  I shudder, trying to release the hold that the pleasure has on me, but he starts caressing my breasts again.

  “Don’t fight it, Sabrina,” he says, leaning down to kiss my nipple. “Give in and I promise you, it will all be worth it.” He slides his hand down between my legs and strokes me gently. I gasp as the fire ignites inside me once again.

  “No,” I whisper, ashamed that I already did give in. I don’t want to do it again.

  The man chuckles. “I like your spirit.” He presses a finger inside me and I whimper. It feels good as he thrusts gently. “You’re meant to be used this way, Sabrina. This is what your body was made for . . .” He kisses my ear. “You are meant to indulge in sexual experiences.”

  He shifts and begins to crawl on top of me, but I scream at him and try and push him away.

  He frowns. Khyan grabs my hands and presses them above my head.

  “I can make this pleasurable or painful, Sabrina. Stop fighting and you’ll enjoy it.”

  I turn my head. “I don’t want to enjoy it.”

  “If you insist.” He grabs my legs and pulls them apart. I kick at him, but as strong as I am, he is stronger. He presses down on my thighs and I am open and vulnerable to him.

  Between Khyan holding down my hands and the man holding down my thighs, I can’t move. I squirm as I see his hard penis getting closer and closer to me.

  “No!” I scream as he touches me. This is not how I envisioned my first time. I know I gave in to him before, but that makes me even more determined to not give in to him this time. I won’t!

  I move as much as I can. When that doesn’t work, I spit at him. He glares at me and moves his hands, but I’m only free for a split second before his knees dig into my thighs.

  He thrusts his hips forward, and I scream as I feel my insides tear open. Khyan releases my hands. He is inside me! Inside my body! I scream and kick at him, but he covers my mouth with one hand and grabs my hands with the other.

  He glares at me, blue eyes icy cold. “Don’t scream into my ear,” he growls.

  Angry tears run down my face as I flail my legs, trying to get him off me, but I am pinned down from the inside. A sob escapes my throat. I bite my lip, trying to keep the rest inside. Evil, sadistic bastard will probably like it if I cry.

  I glare right back at him and his eyes turn amused again. He moves his hips and I wince as the pain that had started dying away renews itself.

  “I’ve taken you for myself, Sabrina,” he whispers into my ear. “Your body is mine.” He licks my ear. “I am your Master and you will obey me.”

  My eyes close at his words and I feel something tingling deep inside. Not like the tingles from his mouth on me. Different. Deeper. More meaningful.

  He kisses my neck and slowly begins to move inside me. It hurts, and each painful thrust brings tears to my eyes. “Take the pain I give you,” he murmurs. “Turn it into your pleasure. Please your Master with your pain.”

  The thrusts are more gentle now, slow and long. He releases my mouth and intertwines our fingers above my head. “Good girl,” he whispers.

  Fight, Sabrina! Fight him!! I scream in my head. But why? How? He’s so much stronger than me.

  His languid movements hypnotize me and I feel myself moving with him. “Good girl,” he whispers again, and a thrill runs through my body. I shiver, and he laughs. “Isn’t it easier when you just obey me?”

  I feel him moving in and out of me. I can almost see his penis as it strokes the most intimate part of my body. Not only is he inside my body, but he is slowly seeping into my soul.

  And I can’t do anything to stop it.

  He whispers into my ear, but I can’t understand what he’s saying. All I can feel is the mix of pain and pleasure deep inside me. The fire ignites again and I can feel that intense sensation building inside me once more. I gasp as he thrusts harder and harder. Something inside tells me to fight, but I don’t want to. Not right now. Not while it feels so good.

  Harder and harder, faster and faster he moves in and out of me. When he changes angles, I moan low as the pleasure increases.

  Suddenly, my body explodes once more, but I don’t soar alone. He is with me. Inside of me.

  Burning ebony chains wrap around us and bind us together. I feel him empty himself into me and I can no longer escape him. I never will.

  He is my Master and he owns me. Mind, soul, and body.

  Chapter Six

  Sabrina stared out the window of the train. Master. Her body shuddered at the thought.

  She hadn’t thought about him in a long time. He’d been gone for so long, she’d forgotten about him, but how? He took control of her body and played her like an expert musician with a prized instrument. Fighting him never did any good. He rarely got angry. He’d always find a way to make her see things his way.

  Then, one day, he was gone, leaving her with Khyan and Ramon. Even now, the memory of his face had faded.

  She couldn’t describe him even if she wanted to. He’d said she belonged to him. But why would he leave her alone for so long?

  Was he still out there somewhere? Would he come and find her once he learned that she was gone?

  She shivered in fear. Khyan and Ramon did horrible things to her . . . Made her do horrible things.

  But Master made her like it.

  Her stomach twisted in agonized grief. Her heart felt like a lead weight. She clenched her fists. Her fingernails dug into her palms.

  The pain did nothing to dull the fire that shot through her body with every heartbeat.

  How could she possibly face the people who knew her when she was sixteen . . . when she was innocent?

  They’d look at her with disgust and walk away.

  Why was she still going to Boston?

  She stared out the window, searching for an answer. Would she ever be able to escape her past? Was it possible to start over in a new place? Boston was a big city. Surely no one would find her there, especially being fully human now. They couldn’t find a regular human, could they?

  She’d keep her head down, blend into the city, and stay hidden.

  She had enough money to hold her over until she could find a job. She wouldn’t have to dance.

  But the thought of not dancing felt like a dull knife in her chest. She had to dance. It would be a death sentence not to.

  She stared out the window again, this time at the abandoned buildings lining the tracks of the sad little town as the train barreled through without even slowing. In the weak yellow lights lining the streets, she could see ivy clinging to the crumbling bricks and trees poking out of broken windows beneath collapsed rooftops. That was what she imagined a life without dance would be. Pathetic, decrepit, miserable.

  I’ll audition and see what happens, she decided. I’ll leave it up to fate.

  Despite what Mr. Baker had said, she wasn’t confident enough to believe she could ever be anything more than a corps dancer. Not on the East Coast. A corps dancer in Boston was better than a soloist back home, though.

  The night turned dark again as they passed the town. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward, feeling shattered.

  When she’d left this morning, she’d been so confident, so hopeful about her future.

  Now?


  Not so much.

  Actually, not at all.

  She needed air . . . A change of scenery . . . Anything to clear her head. It was late and she didn’t know when the next stop was, but maybe walking around would help.

  She grabbed her sweater and shoved her feet into her flip-flops before making her way to the central car, which had panoramic windows. The upstairs was surprisingly full for the hour, so she made her way to the empty café downstairs. It was cool and quiet. Once again, she found herself staring out the window, lost in her memories.

  The dark landscape sped past as she tried to think of anything except the idea that she’d lost everything. That there was no hope of anything awaiting her in Boston.

  Except for her audition. That was sole remaining flicker of hope in her life.

  But that slight flame did nothing to dull the agony brought by the image of Chase happily married, swinging a young child around in his arms before hugging her close to his heart.

  She groaned and slumped forward on the table, burying her face in her hands. Every breath was a struggle, but the pain in her lungs was a relief from the ache grief wracked in her body.

  Heavy footsteps sounded in the stairwell. Sabrina turned her head slightly to see a man walking down the stairs. He wore faded jeans and a red-and-black flannel shirt, his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked to be about thirty. When he saw her, he stopped and smiled. “You look like you’re having a rough time of it.”

  Sabrina sat up and looked around, wondering if there were someone else she hadn’t noticed before. Seeing nobody, she tilted her head. “Me?”

  The man took a step forward and nodded. “I saw you come down here. You looked upset.”

  Sabrina stiffened. She supposed she wasn’t exactly trying to hide anything, but the fact someone had noticed did surprise her. She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  He walked toward her. Sabrina leaned back in the booth. “I’m Kelvin,” he said, extending his hand.

  Sabrina nodded, but didn’t shake his hand. What does he want?

  Kelvin smiled again and sat down in the bench seat across from her. She swallowed hard and watched him study her, looking thoughtful.