Dark Master (Dark Masters Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  Dark Master

  By Shana Vanterpool

  a DARK MASTERS novel

  book one

  Shana Vanterpool Dark Master © 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced whatsoever in any manner, including electronic or mechanical, photocopying, or by an information and retrieval system, without written permission from the Author/Publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s overactive imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual persons, alive or deceased, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  1.Portland (USA)—Fiction. 2. FICTION—Erotic Romance/Contemporary/Women’s fiction. 3.BDSM—fiction. 4.Submissive Lifestyle—fiction.

  ISBN-13: 978-1547031955

  ISBN-10: 1547031956

  Kindle ASIN: B072PVGJRL

  Cover stock images: Shutterstock and Pexels

  Shana Vanterpool © 2017

  First edition paperback/eBook: June 2017

  Shanavanterpool.com

  To the

  loveable monsters like Jaxon,

  and the

  loyal strong women like Miya,

  who find comfort

  in the dark, and still

  fight to keep their light.

  WARNING

  You’re about to enter into a sexual submissives state of mind.

  Listen, we’re all adults, right? If you’re not 18, try something a little less taboo. If you’re not into these types of stories, I have sweeter things in the works. If you’re here because you’ve crossed over to the dark side, great. So did I. I had an awesome time delving down this wicked story. The haze of want and desire cloud every page. You’re going to pant as your heart aches. But you’ll feel. I think that’s most important.

  THIS IS A BDSM ROMANCE. That’s what you’re going to get. I didn’t want this to be a romance with drops of BDSM, but BDSM within an epic burning romance. It’s salacious and in some places dubious, but ONLY if you choose to see it that way.

  There is no judgement in the BDSM world, only in ours. Enjoy this intoxicating and kinky romance with an open mind and a desire for the darker side of love.

  Dark Master

  Master was dark, dark, dark.

  Preface – Jaxon

  Miya was a pink rose with crushed petals.

  I was the dirt she grew in.

  I needed her to prove there was still beauty.

  She needed me to prove her petals were still beautiful.

  I was dark.

  She was light.

  But we needed each other. Roses need dirt to grow. But pain needs me.

  I couldn’t help pulling her beautiful crushed pink petals off one by one, grinding them in my fists to smell their sweet scent.

  Now I held her stem in my hand, pricking myself on her thorns repeatedly.

  My past created pain the way my heart pumped blood.

  It’s in me.

  It is me.

  And now, it’s in her too.

  Preface – Miya

  Love chose him for me. He was everything my missing pieces needed.

  Love chose me for him. I was everything good he’d never had.

  I wanted his darkness. He took my light.

  Even when he made me hurt, I craved him. His pain made this real, and I overshadowed his pain.

  When he showed me how deep my love could go, I yearned to know how far.

  I wanted this from the moment I learned it was a possibility.

  He took it the moment he knew I was his.

  Some love stories have hearts and flowers.

  Some are twisted in the bowels of darkness, seeking a light that barely shines and freefalling into the shadows.

  But love is love.

  Who were Jaxon and I to judge its choices?

  0.

  The first time I saw him, I saw me.

  I saw a woman instead of a broken girl, a future instead of the bare of my nothing.

  I basked in his darkness, letting him spin his twisted magic in my heart.

  I changed who I was for him and now he must change who he is for me.

  Our lust was a cloud, intoxicating us both in a deep fog of pleasure.

  We were perfect for each other. In our pain, in our control—we transcended our fears.

  But we had to fight for it, because he was dark, dark, dark, and I wanted so badly for his darkness to take me.

  Darkness was still a color, far less bright, but still glorious. Deep, rich, and full of life.

  Not all that is dark is bad.

  I opened my laptop and sent the email that would either change my life forever, or cast me into the most painful kind of nothing.

  ***

  I watched him where he sat, his long gorgeous body cramped on the small bench, but still somehow fitting in the most controlling way.

  My blood pumped panic and desire into my system. I had no idea what my choices would give me, only that they would take them all away.

  He ran a hand through his dark hair with a heavy sigh, gaze cast down at his phone. The vibration from an email notification buzzed in my clutch purse.

  From: JDdominant

  To: SweetSub18

  Subject: Tardy already?

  I am waiting. Not only am I doing it alone, but you’re nowhere to be found. I’ll have to teach you a lasting lesson on showing up on time.

  JD

  He thought he was meeting someone else.

  I agreed to be conditioned. To be thrust into his lifestyle. There was no other way. I couldn’t slip into his darkness unless he yanked me in first.

  From: SweetSub18

  To: JDdominant

  Subject: Eager?

  Look up, Mr. Damon.

  When I stepped out of the shadows, his eyes landed on me. Recognition and … relief filled his eyes. He didn’t appear shocked, not as shocked as I’d been expecting him to be. I’d come prepared to argue my side. He didn’t appear to need coercing.

  No, he looked hungry. Starving. Desperate to begin his meal.

  “You knew it was me the entire time?” I squeaked.

  He stood, standing to his full towering height, his dark eyes shining under the moonlight. I saw my mistake the moment he came for me. He hadn’t been sitting there waiting to meet just any prospective submissive.

  He moved to cradle my face in his grasp, swallowing my sights. “Miya, I am here because it’s you.”

  He’d been waiting for me.

  “Are you ready to play?” he asked, his warm breath smelling strongly of cigars and mint as it fanned across my parted lips.

  I was desperate to play, even if I lost this game, I would play my hardest. “Yes.”

  But I hadn’t asked the rules.

  I hadn’t asked anything. All I’d wanted was him.

  That had been my first mistake.

  And my greatest.

  1.

  “Don’t be afraid,” his deep voice murmured, his hand on my lower back leading me down what felt like stairs.

  I panicked anyway. “Where are you taking me?”

  When I got into his Lexus after our meeting, he’d tied a silk blindfold around my eyes the color of night, and he hadn’t spoken during the drive.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, his breath warm on my ear.

  I shivered. “Yes,” I admitted in defeat. “But where are you taking me?”

  He didn’t answer. He took my elbow and guided me down the stairs. There were no sounds around me. My heart hammered in my ears. A bolt of
fear slid into me, twisting my thoughts and desires.

  “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Shh, Miya,” he muttered. “Yes, you can. All my submissives must go through this.” I pulled on his arm, but he yanked me against his hard, warm body. “Behave.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Can you take the blindfold off at least?”

  “No,” he said simply, the sound of a door opening in front of me and closing behind us. He continued to lead me. We weren’t heading down anymore.

  We were heading forward.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  I heard his breath of frustration. “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be. Go into the room and wait for me.” He pressed his chest against my back, wrapping his arms around me.

  I melted instantly. I’d waited so achingly long for his touch. I found myself leaning against his chest, trying and failing to see him through my blindfold. “Why?”

  “I want your submission. For you to give yourself to me in the most basic way. I need that before we can be what we discussed in our emails. Go.” He urged me on.

  I dug my heels into the ground. “No.”

  “You agreed to this. The quicker you submit, the quicker we can start playing. Don’t you want to play with me, Miya?” he purred, somehow already knowing me. “I have thought of nothing but you for weeks.”

  “Yes,” I breathed. I wanted to play. I wanted him. I didn’t know how to do this, only that if it were with him, I’d learn to be what he needed. But I didn’t want to go into that room to do it. I didn’t like the dark. And I knew without looking that was all there was in that room.

  Darkness.

  “Unless you want to submit to me right now.”

  I had a shred of fight still left in me. I didn’t want it to be this way. My chin set.

  “Hmm,” he grunted, displeased. “Go into that room. You won’t come back out until you’re mine.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “That’s up to you.” He whisked my blindfold off and gave me the final shove into darkness before the door closed behind me.

  ***

  The darkness was starting to grow on me.

  Why did I agree to do this? To be this for him?

  My illusions of him had only taken me so far. I hadn’t known what this place was, and the moment he’d blindfolded me in the car, I hadn’t seen a single thing since him. I immediately regretted my choices.

  My wants.

  He hadn’t reacted well to my panic. Leaving me here.

  What I wanted had disappeared weeks ago … or months ago … or minutes ago. Time had no more purpose. At least, not in this room. It stopped existing the moment he brought me here, like my life’s clock no longer ticked for me.

  It only ticked for him.

  I was scrubbing at the ground with my fingers, the ends raw and throbbing. Why did it have to be so dark?

  My eyes saw nothing but black. I stared through the abyss at where my arm was. But I saw nothing. Which meant I was probably underground.

  I curled into a ball and stared, keeping my eyes open because I could. May as well enjoy the ability to see while he let me.

  He didn’t talk except to growl the one time I’d tried fighting him when he came in the first time. The bed I lay on was aggravatingly comfortable. Comfort meant prolonging this. And this meant more time here.

  Plus, comfort didn’t belong in this place. If this even was a place.

  I didn’t belong here. I belonged with him.

  My mind faded into a loose state of consciousness.

  I wasn’t sure what hurt most. That I thought I’d be getting what I wanted, or that what I wanted was doing this to me.

  A sound pulled me from the darkness. The dark remained even when he came inside. I knew it was him. I could feel him. The overwhelming power coming from his warm body when he got near enough for me to feel him. He smelled like fabric softener, of all things, and cigar smoke. There was no cologne on him. Just soap and cigars.

  My body shivered when his presence filled the room and a buzzing thrummed in the back of my throat.

  I heard the flick of his lighter and then the scent of cigar smoke came from behind. I never looked at him. But today, I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved to my right side, facing where he smoked in the back of the room. The only light came from the orange glow of his cigar. I gasped when I saw a glimpse of his face, the first thing I saw in days, months … centuries. His jaw and lips flashed in the dark.

  Spotting me looking, he flicked his lighter close to his face.

  He moved it over every inch of his face for me, showing me his monster. He had jet black hair and dark eyes. Full lips made peach in the glow of the lighter. A layer of scruff along his solid jaw. Straight nose in the shadows. Once he thought I had enough, he snapped the lighter off and continued smoking.

  My heart flipped over in severe longing. Even a semester without him hadn’t dulled the desire in my blood even the slightest.

  For a monster, he was stunning. Was that supposed to calm me? Pretty could be evil. Evil could be pretty.

  As if he could read my thoughts, he chuckled. “Unimpressed now?”

  His voice was as deep as my fears, rumbling over me in the dark. “Should I be impressed?” My voice cracked. I was desperate for a drink, but that would require asking him, and I thought that was his point somehow. To make me want this. Him.

  “I don’t want your fascination, Miya. I want your submission. It’s the only reason you’re here. Once I have it, you’ll be mine. And all will be better for us both.”

  That’s the thing. How did I give him my submission? He never discussed it over his emails, but bringing me down here must have been the beginning to being his. “How did you remember my name?” He wasn’t supposed to know it was me.

  This infatuation had always been mine. Safe in my heart, but always desperate for his.

  “Because I know you. We’ve met. We’ve talked. We’ve flirted. We’ve fallen. Let’s just say you were impressed out there.” His lips made a wet sound on his cigar and he inhaled, the orange glow of his cigar lighting his face barely before the smoke blocked him once more.

  It turned the air around him into a wisp of gray before that too got swallowed by the dark.

  My thoughts had long since began to tangle. I was no good for this right now. I knew I needed to think, but terror and depression had a way of marring flight or fight. I was too weak to move, too hungry to think, and far too empty to seek him out.

  He sighed as if he knew once more where my thoughts were. “I have ice cold water, my sweet Miya. Food. Answers. If you want it, all you have to do is admit you wanted me enough to try. This was your idea, after all.”

  I heard his body shift and then his voice was closer, the brush of its warmth tracing down my spine. “You emailed me first, remember that.”

  He left, leaving the smell of cigars behind. I took a deep breath.

  My mind fantasized. Ice cold water dripping down my throat. Rehydrating my lips and tongue. Wet, cold, and delicious.

  Surely, he’d give it to me anyway. How long could I really survive without it? Why go through this trouble only to let me pass out from dehydration? Which probably meant I hadn’t been here that long. Days at least.

  Days in the dark.

  Hours passed before he returned. I didn’t roll over this time. Even when I heard the crack of the bottle of the water. He drank it in a way that made me curl my toes in longing. Slowly, his throat gulping the wet liquid. He twirled the bottle around, sloshing the contents onto the floor.

  “Ready to submit yet?”

  “No,” I lied, wiping roughly at my tears.

  He sighed. “Miya, have I hurt you?”

  I sobbed harder.

  “Have I done anything harmful to you?”

  There was a groan of desperation. “I know I did this the wrong way, but I’ve done it. So please give me what I need so we can begin what you wanted once
.”

  I knew who he was. Of course, I knew who he was. How could I forget him? He was what I wanted once. One of the most gorgeous men in the entire world. With a face that made me stupid and a smile that made my heart weak. I’d spent hours staring at him, but we’d never interacted past professional conversations.

  Because … he was my professor. Who I’d spent an entire semester crushing on last year. Who I agreed to be a submissive for. Only submitting was a lot harder than I thought. Especially when he insisted on acting this way.

  “Please, Mr. Damon.”

  He exhaled behind me. I heard his feet on the ground and then he was crouching near me in the dark. He brought the bottle of water to my lips and tilted it back, splashing a small mouthful of ice cold liquid onto my tongue. I moaned, loud and deep, grabbing his hand and tipping more back. It tasted so incredibly good. I lapped at it when he poured more into my open waiting mouth.

  “You wanted this once, didn’t you, sweet Miya?”

  I recalled his rugged handsome face from my first semester of college. Ironically, he’d taught Intro to Psychology. I’d questioned my mental stability once or twice in his class. Staring, gawking, picturing what he looked like under his dress shirts. What his hands would feel like on my body, between my legs. But class had ended and I’d been an eighteen-year-old who’d barely survived her first—and probably last—crush.

  What I felt for Mr. Damon in one second had been more than I felt my entire life. I’d known even then that it wouldn’t go away. Those feelings would only get worse.

  All the want I’d felt then came rushing back to me. But I was still so unsure and terrified. The flood of want mixing with fear made me dizzy.