They weren’t habits. They were him. “Food or not?”
“Yes, please. Lots. I puked last night and now I’m empty.”
Withdrawal. “Come downstairs.” I didn’t ask.
He didn’t say no. He pulled on a pair of loose boxers and followed me downstairs. He didn’t sit; he stood and leaned with his elbows on the counter.
I found a box of pancake mix and figured even I couldn’t mess that up. I added eggs and milk and stirred, feeling his eyes on every single inch of my body. Even now the lust we spun wanted flight, to engulf us in its dirty haze. But lust right now would lead to more pain if we didn’t figure out how to feel good without it.
“May I buy you a new cell phone?”
“I’ll buy myself one.”
He snorted. “I’m going to ease up on certain things, not all things. It comes in rose gold. Would you like that color?”
I peeked over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. “I think I would, oh generous master.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re an incredibly huge smart ass.”
I turned, jutting out my ass. “You think my ass is huge?”
“Bend over without bending your knees.”
I did, feeling the lust circle around us, threatening to drench us in its fog.
“Rub yourself slowly. Sam told me he tasted your ass. But did he take it?”
“No. It’s still yours to take.” I rubbed the globes of my ass in slow erotic circles, biting my lip to keep my smile in. “I want you to take it the way you took my virginity. Rough and fast.”
“Mmm,” he groaned. “See, you like a little pain.”
I wanted to torture him. Or maybe I wanted to be us. This wicked mixture of barely contained beauty wrapped too tightly around intense desire. I went over to the cooking utensils on the counter, sifting through too much metal.
“Red silicone spatula,” he murmured. “Pull your jeans down to your ankles and bend over right in front of me. Only until you’re satisfied.”
I gave him the utensil and then pulled my jeans off, leaving my thong on. I gave my ass to him, standing close to the counter so he wouldn’t have to walk far. This was a test as much as it was a turn on. If he went past my pain threshold, I would know our thresholds would never align.
His hand palmed me. “Would a spanking make you feel better right now?”
“I think it would make us both feel better.” I bunched my shirt up high on my stomach, jutting my ass out for him.
“I think you’re right,” he admitted, his tone low and deep, because he knew this was what I’d always wanted. Pain my way, not his way. He could have this and me, or he could have it his way without me. He had to choose.
I already had.
The spatula cracked off my left cheek sharp and fast, making me inhale. It didn’t hurt whatsoever at first. It was soothing, tempting, making my core ache and my teeth dig into my bottom lip. My stress came out with each spank.
He delved between my thighs and thong to find my sex, stroking my slit with the spatula. “Keep your feet touching,” he ordered, when I opened my legs for him to delve deeper. He pulled the spatula out and brought it around, showing me the glistening on the outside. “You love this pain. Here is your proof. Open your mouth.” I did, licking the spatula clean of my taste. “It occurs to me that I haven’t eaten your pussy in quite some time.”
I smiled, reaching out to hold on to the wall as he resumed his spanking. The pain was perfect and the teasing of my sex only increased the lust burning in my blood. The moment I flinched, he pulled the spatula away and growled for me to sit on top of the counter.
I struggled on weak limbs to lift my weight. He pulled my jeans down my ankles and settled between my legs. He rubbed the wet spot on my red panties, spinning his magic; my wetness spread, creating a larger dampened circle.
“May I spank you here?” He held my gaze.
I nodded, on the edge of throwing myself into this attraction.
He found my clit through my panties and rubbed. The moment I was shaking, he pulled back and spanked my sex through my panties. I gasped and moaned, shocked and turned on.
“More?”
“Please,” I moaned, watching him rub me in a trance. My panties were so wet, that when he spanked my sex a second time, they sounded damp. I was crazed. “Use the spatula.” I was us.
He massaged my clit through the wet cloth good and deep before he spanked my pussy fast and hard with the spatula. I felt my clit pulse and my inner muscles contract. I was so close.
“I’m going to cum,” I warned. I didn’t know if that was too soon, but it felt too soon for me.
He spanked my pussy again, harder than the last time, instilling just enough pain to edge my pleasure. Then he spanked my inner thighs back and forth as his fingers delved between my wet folds and rubbed me into an amazing orgasm. His spatula spanking as his fingers stroked me. I came so hard my moaning was louder than his heavy breathing.
I heard a stool slide on the floor and then my panties were pushed to the side and the hot slick pressure of his tongue was on me, stroking from my clit to my entrance. I writhed on the counter as he tasted me. There was too much good, way too much.
I sat up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling as hard as I could and shoving his face harder against me. There. His pain, mine—as long as it was there.
It was the exact moment I realized how fucked up we both were.
But I came so fucking hard a second later I forgot all about my revelation.
Didn’t think it mattered. That’s what our lust did.
“You’ll wear these panties all day. Soaked in your pussy.”
Sounded good to me. I got dressed as he kneeled on the stool, head down, fists bunched. Sex would be a bad thing right now. One, he was too hurt for any position, and I only wanted one. Him in control of me. I made pancakes, and soon, he calmed, leaning against the fridge with his erection bulging the front of his boxers.
“If I gave you oral last night, would you have gotten hard?”
He shrugged. “I thought about anything I could to keep myself soft. Being forced down …” He gulped. “Is not a good feeling for me. Plus, that caning hurt worse than anything physical I’ve felt in a long time. I kept thinking how long it would last. How much more I’d suffer through, and then you were there, right there, but I wasn’t allowed to see you, and I knew he’d spent all night making you cum just to hurt me. What did you think about it?”
“You and Sam together? I thought it was really sexy.” I winked. “It would have been sexier if you had a hard on, but watching you suck him off was insanely hot.”
He simply stared at me. “Was it?”
“Mhm. Who’s Donovan?”
“He’s a gay dominant. Sam and I wanted to know what it felt like from our subs point of views with a man as our dom. It was an eye-opening experience, I assure you. First and last time I’d ever been with a man.”
“With only Sam?”
“Well, Donovan had a good time pumping our asses.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not gay, Miya. I’m not into men at all.”
I giggled, flipping the pancakes. “All right, I get it. No more bisexual experiences.”
His arms slipped around me from behind. “I’m sorry how terrible I’ve gone about this. About everything. About us. No more other partners. It’s dangerous for us both and it stunts us from growing closer. Only us, monogamous.”
I melted at his kiss, his lips sucking softly at my pulse.
“A ‘regular’ relationship with kitchen spankings and oral sex?”
He chuckled warmly. “Yes, please.”
“And pancakes,” I added, turning enough to reach his lips. I kissed back deeply, delving my tongue into his mouth and letting my kiss say what I was too afraid to say.
“Definitely pancakes.” He kissed the side of my nose. “In bed?”
“Still hurting?” He nodded, pecking my nose once more before stepping away. “Go lie down. I’ll be
up in a few.”
He limped away from me, but not before I caught the small almost unfightable smile on his face. It was boyish and sweet, as if his heart was happy for a moment. Which meant it was only a matter of time before his darkness tried to snuff it out.
I searched his kitchen before I found the serving tray I was looking for. I loaded plates with golden pancakes and warmed syrup, adding coffee mugs to the serving tray, and balanced it all upstairs, finding him on his stomach with his eyes facing the door. The moment I came in, his shoulders relaxed.
I ate crossed-legged beside him, staring at the fresh nail marks in his back with nothing but pure rage in my heart.
“I don’t want you to ever see her or talk to her again.”
He didn’t ask who. He ate on his stomach, perched on his elbows. “I won’t.”
“And if she threatens you, think about my secret, and know that I won’t judge you or think differently.”
“Yes, Miya.”
“Also know that she’s a bitch. And she doesn’t like that you have me. She doesn’t acknowledge me at all, but she knows I’m a weapon, or she’d never threaten you with your secret.”
“Yes, Miya.”
“She’s jealous.”
He swallowed hard. “She doesn’t love me. She’s … unused to another woman having more power over me.”
I had more power over him than her? “She’d better get used to it. Fast.” I wanted to dig her marks in him out with a knife. Pissed all over again, I ‘accidentally’ smacked his sore ass.
He shouted, flinching onto his side. “What the hell?”
“Oops.” I shrugged casually.
He glared. “Oops? You mean your hand got close enough to my ass to spank on sheer accident.”
I put my hands up like guess so with a knowing smirk. “Does Master want a bath?”
“Master wants to put you over his knee, but a bath will do. Thank you.”
I helped him into the warm water and then sat on the edge of the tub, massaging his shoulders and chest, working out the kinks in his muscles. His quiet groans of appreciation made me want to kiss him. But he was naked and his body was glorious and I felt it was too dangerous to risk.
“You feel so good.” I ran my hands down his chest and kissed his shoulder, biting him softly.
His head lolled back against me between my arms, keeping me there. “It was hell without you, Miya. An hour was hard, an entire night and day was too long.” His words wobbled. “I spiraled out of control so quickly, I don’t know how long I would have lasted. I apologize from the bottom of my soul for what I did. It will never happen again. Whatever you want from this relationship, it’s yours. I’ll do what it takes to never have to live without you.”
I slid my hands down to find his hard cock. I stroked him slowly, from the tip to his base, grasping him tightly in my fists. My heart was a leery animal now and it understood how large a wall sex could be. He came quickly, having already been teased downstairs. I didn’t stop. I wanted to pull as much pleasure from his body as possible, pumping his cock tightly until he shuddered a second time, his lips latching on to my earlobe as he moaned heavily into my ear.
“I love you,” he sobbed, burying his face against mine. “I just don’t know how to do it.”
I cradled his head against my chest, feeling the pull of his fears and the depth of his pain. A pain that was so deep it had nothing to do with me, but I brought it forth. That pain made his love for me frightening.
But I was afraid, too.
He had my heart completely. I knew all too well now how much damage he could do to it.
I knew how badly he could break me.
18.
The sun streamed delicately into the room that afternoon, creating a warm indulgent feeling in the room and had us both yawning.
He grabbed a pillow after another ice and rub down, and stared at me, his gaze following me around the room as I cleaned up the damp cloths and cream.
“Tired?” I hung back by the door.
Panic spiked in his eyes. “You’re not sleeping in here tonight? Please stay with me. Don’t go back into the basement.”
I found my feet walking to him before my mind could stop me. I snuggled against his side and shared his pillow, flinging my legs over his and my arm around his naked back. He smelled so good, like clean skin and soap, his slightly dampened hair grazing my forehead.
“I have a lot of questions,” he mumbled, half-asleep.
“‘Bout what?” my sleepy mind asked, thoughts fading into unconsciousness.
“About your secret.”
I reached for sleep, grasping for it wildly. Secrets weren’t meant to be dredged up repeatedly. Once for comparison and no more. Otherwise, I’d beg for his. Not leave it to him.
I woke to the moon, crawling out of bed to use the bathroom and slipped downstairs. It was almost four in the morning and we hadn’t eaten since pancakes.
“You really think you’re going to make him a husband?”
I gasped, whirling around in the dark. There was a figure in the living room, their silhouette in the dark curvy and feminine.
“Turn him into a normal socially acceptable human being? I already tried that. He got as far as me, and I’m ten times more woman than you’ll ever be, Miya Reemond. You’re barely out of girlhood. Big tits and pretty eyes don’t make you a woman.” Vega turned ever-so-slightly toward the light, showing me her features.
This bitch. I snorted, flipping on the lights and opening the fridge. “Does he know you’re still in love with him?”
“Jaxon wouldn’t know love if it spanked him one hundred times across his perfectly sculpted ass.”
“Something tells me you’ve done that.” I dropped four pieces of wheat nut bread into the toaster and then searched for butter.
“He loved it,” she quipped.
The poor woman probably didn’t understand how to live without control. Control over everything and everyone in her life. Too bad for her that I’d mastered it.
“Then why isn’t he letting you spank him anymore?”
“Miya. I own him. I could have him on his knees eating my pussy before you can mutter his name.”
I sucked some butter from my thumb and shrugged, getting down two plates. “Not the greatest tasting pussy I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, you’re so cool. Is that it? So self-assured and confident. I’ll remind you how deeply he was inside of me three nights before. Nothing’s changed.”
Wrong. Everything had changed. “He’d probably had no choice but to go so deeply.” I finally turned to her, giving her a saccharine smile.
She was wearing a suit, fitted black, making her look long and sexy. Blonde hair in a tight bun, eyes piercing like shards of green glass. She was stunning and I could only imagine what Jaxon thought of her. I was me, but I was starting to love my body and what I’d been born with. Sam and Jaxon didn’t have a problem with it. Why should I just because she could be on the cover of a magazine? I could be beneath the sheets of Jaxon’s bed, and that was a far better spread than a meaningless picture. Plus, she’d probably want that too.
Judging by the way she kept looking at the stairs, she’d probably already watched us sleep. His naked ass raw for me, not her.
“You have a key?” I guessed, heading for the stairs. Like I figured, she followed, her heels on the wooden stairs trailing after me.
“He’s mine. Of course, I have a key. What color is yours?”
I didn’t take her bait. I walked into his room and turned on the light near the door, gold bursting from the ceiling chandelier. His naked body lay on his stomach, his ass nothing but purple and black.
I didn’t snap until she sat on the bed and touched him, trailing her fingers over one thick wound.
“Don’t touch him!” I slammed the plate down and tapped his arm.
His eyes fluttered open. “It’s not that far.”
“What?”
“The jump.” He buried his head from
the light and was out snoring in seconds.
“Ahh, the jumping nightmare. He’ll wake up screaming in a few minutes. Cover your ears.” She plugged hers with two red nails.
I waited, staring intently at his face. Sure enough, in minutes, he bolted up shouting from deep in his chest, catching me off guard. He flew back and into Vega. Which only seemed to terrify him more. “No, Mistress. Not again.” He landed on his ass right on the floor and screamed in pain.
He cowered, his poor mind stuck in his nightmare and confused in his reality. “What the hell!” He struggled to his feet. “What are you doing here?” His hand shook as he pointed at her.
She tilted her head to the side. “Is that how you speak to me, Jaxon?”
He struggled. The submissive and the dominant, warring right before my eyes. His tortured gaze flashed to mine and the pain crumbled in his face. “Don’t tell her, Vega, please.”
The submissive won out. He fell to his knees and gazed up at her with tears in his eyes, the glimmering moon catching every diamond-like facet.
She stroked his face, her fingers scraping against the dark stubble on his jaw. Her red nails were stark against his shadows and skin.
“She won’t love you if she finds out. Is that your fear?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, I will,” I growled. “Jaxon, get up. You are not her submissive. You are a man who has all the power in his hands. Get up!”
He started, but one look at her and the weight of her control over him pushed him back down.
“She is just a child. What could a man twelve years her senior really find in such a difference?”
“Myself,” he argued. “She’s so sweet and unruined. She doesn’t look at me like I’m a monster. Even when she called me one, I could see that she didn’t really believe that. She sees the man in me I never thought I could be. I need that!” he insisted, patting his chest roughly. “What am I without it? Nothing. I’m nothing. You never gave me that. You gave me everything but that because you knew if I had it, I wouldn’t need you anymore.”
She grabbed him by his jaw roughly, digging her nails into his flesh and leaning close. “I should make you eat soap for talking to me that way.” Her hand slapped him hard, making him grit his teeth. “You cannot be human. If I couldn’t make you more of a man, she certainly isn’t going to be able to.” She jabbed at me, glaring profusely at him. “She is a little brat who makes your cock hard. That’s all this is.”
Dark Master (Dark Masters Book 1) Page 15
