Masters of the Castle: Witness Protection Program

by Maren Smith

  “Stunning,” he added, his gaze locked on the feisty woman. He darted his glance toward the piece, taking in the subject’s face, her expression one of utter joy. And all the while as she was shackled, a masked man wielding a long whip. “Tell me, what do you see?”

  “Rapture,” she whispered, reaching out as if to touch the woman’s cheek.

  He slid his hand against her backside, pushing the material into the crack of her ass. “You wear my marks well, and there will be more. I would enjoy piercing your nipples.” He heard the slight whimper coming from her throat. She was hungry to experiment indeed. “And perhaps we will, if you’re a very good kitten.” A deep chuckle created another moan pushing past her full lips.

  Scarlet lowered her eyes, a slight blush cresting along her jawline.

  As much as he adored studying his prized pet, he was here for a reason and the need to find Carmen had escalated. If The Butcher was searching for him, Sebastian needed to get the upper hand. “Come, kitten, let’s continue our tour.”

  Her demeanor remained docile as they walked the entire gallery, yet her eyes never stopped roaming. Observing.

  When it was evident that Carmen wasn’t interested in fine art, Sebastian grew bored, the desire for a drink increasing. “I think a drink is in order.” He led them out into the almost empty hallway. Feeling a slight tug on the leash, he twisted his head. “I can see you are longing to speak.”

  “What are you looking for inside these hallowed grounds, a submissive to do your bidding or something else entirely?”

  The question wasn’t a surprise. He twisted her leash around his hand, slowly pulling her in his direction until their lips were only inches apart. “I know you’ve heard the term ‘curiosity killed the cat,’ my sweet. I suggest you choose your questions carefully and we will have no problems.”

  A smile curled on her lip, a flicker in her lovely eyes. “Ah, but you’re intrigued by the fact I’m not a true submissive.”

  “That may be true, but our reasons for being in this castle, in this place and time, are subject to scrutiny. I suggest you remember your place.” He brushed his knuckles down the side of her face. “You will tell me your true reason for being here.”

  “And you will tell me yours. Trust is the only way that I can fully submit. But you already knew that.”

  “I know many things about you.” Cupping the side of her face, he rubbed his thumb back and forth, sliding his finger across her lips before lowering his head. “I’m a dangerous man, Scarlet, but you crave what that danger can provide, shoving through your structured life. My question to you. What if I offered you more?”

  “More?”

  “After this… game. What if I wanted additional time with you, to train and nurture? To provide the greatest joys you’ve never experienced. What would you say?” Before she had a chance to answer, he crushed her mouth with his, sliding his hand to the back of her neck and dragging her onto her tiptoes.

  Stiff at first, she didn’t react until he slipped his tongue inside. She pressed one hand against his chest and relaxed in his hold, opening her mouth wide as he forced their tongues to entwine.

  The taste of her was remarkable, sweet in a way that captured the current shared between them, exploding until he was consumed with hunger. He pushed her against the wall, the French kiss becoming a roar of passion, hard and fast.

  She wrapped her leg around his thigh as she eased her other arm around his neck, twisting her fingers around strands of his hair.

  His actions became more brutal, his hand sliding between her legs, massaging her cunt through the thin material. He pushed aside the hindrance, thrusting his fingers deep inside.

  Moaning into the kiss, she undulated her body as he plunged in and out, flexing his fingers.

  Sebastian’s grip became tighter as his need increased until he was squeezing with enough pressure to choke her. She didn’t struggle or try and break the hold, yet her moans became guttural. He continued pumping in and out, stretching her pussy as he added his thumb, longing to fist her. When he broke the kiss, first biting on her lower lip before sliding his open mouth to her neck, she panted, her breath coming in short bursts. “Do you enjoy being taken forcefully?”

  “Yes… Oh, yes.” Her eyelids fluttered open and closed, a shimmer of ecstasy riding her face.

  Removing his hand, he rubbed his slickened fingers across her mouth. “A mere taste, my sweet.”

  Scarlet purred, darting her tongue to catch the drops of juice, licking up and down each finger, cooing as she performed the act.

  The scene was evocative, more intimate than various acts of sex. When his fingers were sufficiently cleaned, he gripped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Obedience will allow for additional pleasure. Time for that drink.”

  “Honor and obey, Master Diablo?”

  “Honor and obey, Scarlet, although I much prefer Winter.”

  Certain lurid thoughts drifted into his mind, those involving a long-term situation.

  But only if he wasn’t required to end her life.

  The Castle bar was similar to the other rooms, dark and luxurious with several secluded alcoves allowing for privacy. From where they sat, he was able to see guests as they moved from venue to venue. He fiddled with his drink, fingering the rim. “What do you do, Scarlet?”

  “My profession?”

  “Yes. I’m curious, given you’re tenacious as hell, refusing to give in to anyone, especially a man.”

  “I’m a paralegal with a county prosecutor.” Her answer was followed by a short laugh. “We work to imprison some of the most heinous criminals in the United States.”

  “Then I’m certain you can pick a true offender out in a crowd,” Sebastian said quietly. Her choice of profession gave him a feeling of amusement.

  “I am very good at what I do and you’re right. My sixth sense is almost never wrong.”

  Shaking his head, he fingered the collar surrounding her neck. “Some of the criminal masterminds hide in plain sight, able to mix with almost every type of situation. They are well trained, elusive and take pride in their work.”

  “You sound as if you know the occupation well, Master Diablo.”

  The moment Carmen walked by the bar, he bristled. The assassin’s appearance hadn’t changed to any degree since their last interaction. Thin and much shorter than Sebastian, the man exuded a certain air about him, even though only the practiced eye would pay more than a second’s worth of attention. Carmen was surprisingly by himself, the Greek Warrior costume exactly what he would have expected the man to select. The opportunity was too good to pass up. “I will be right back, and you will be right here, or I’ll strip you naked in front of the guests.”

  “I am your obedient servant,” Scarlet answered, licking her lips in an exaggerated fashion.

  Inhaling, he took long strides out of the bar, heading in the direction of the dungeon. He knew Carmen well enough to realize his sadistic proclivities would be satisfied prior to carrying out any assignment. As he rounded the corner, he sensed a presence.

  “Zorro. How fitting, my old friend.” The husky laugh was laced with amusement.

  Very slowly he turned, facing a man so many believed to be his nemesis. The man’s tone held the same disdain from years before. Memories of the vicious period of time would obviously never die. “Carmen.”

  “You’ve come here to kill me. What a perfect choice.”

  “And you’re here to locate and eliminate a witness,” Sebastian chided, keeping his voice under the radar.

  “Perhaps, but we shall see what the weekend brings,” Carmen stated, his grin widening. “You may find this surprising, but I have a business proposition for you, one I don’t believe you can pass by, especially given our past history.”

  Sebastian had regretted few things in his life and only one could cost him everything, including what could be the single reason to break him free of his self-imposed prison.

  She’d felt the knife in his po
cket. Clever. He could use it with ease and no one would be the wiser. However, did the man really think he was hiding anything? The cat and mouse game was beginning to get old, even though she was forced to admit, their connection was something she couldn’t explain. She wanted to obey him, to follow his every direction. The understanding went against every aspect of her personality as well as her training. If she was seduced by his prowess, his dark and dangerous demeanor and sex appeal, she would never reclaim the conservative woman who followed every protocol.

  Then again, what did she have from her past life that even mattered? A sparsely decorated one-bedroom apartment. Zero plants. No pets. And certainly, no boyfriend. All she did was work.

  She gripped the edge of the table as he walked around the corner, no doubt following the warrior. Carmen. She was as certain of his identity as she was of Slice’s. Easing off the stool, she moved to the entrance of the bar, peering out. There was no sign of either man. She eased along the wall, smiling to guests as they walked by. What would Slice do at this point, cut him in the middle of the Castle? No, he’d wait for the perfect opportunity. Keeping her footsteps light, she rounded a corner, hearing the voices of two men.

  “Zorro. How fitting, my old friend.” The male’s voice was nasally, slightly high pitched. This had to be The Butcher.

  “Carmen.” The voice belonged to Master Diablo.

  “You’ve come here to kill me. What a perfect choice.”

  “And you’re here to locate and eliminate a witness.” Her eyes opened wide hearing the news.

  “Perhaps, but we shall see what the weekend brings.” There was a slight hesitation before Carmen spoke again. “This might surprise you, but I have a business proposition for you, one I don’t believe you can pass by, especially given our past history.”

  The two knew each other. This was entirely possible given what line of work they were in and the types of people they worked for. She crowded closer, waiting for Master Diablo’s answer.

  “I’m listening. However, you know what’s at stake for both our organizations,” Sebastian stated, almost off hand.

  “I do. I’m well aware there are many who would enjoy seeing my demise, including you. But you’re a businessman first. I’ve heard of your disenchantment with the people you work for.”

  Master Diablo laughed. “I enjoy my work. What could you possibly offer that would entice me to destroy my relationship with people who pay me very well?”

  “Freedom as well as silence.”

  “Oh, look! A kitty cat!” the woman exclaimed as she walked past Cassandra, squealing with delight.

  Sucking in her breath, hair stood up on the back of her neck. Turning quickly, she did her best to race back toward the bar, but the echo of her heels against the floor had no doubt caught their attention. She slid onto the barstool, grabbing her drink. What in the hell was actually going on? They were friends? They were working together? She was stuck in a fortress with not one but two murdering bastards? Something didn’t make any sense. Did The Butcher have a secret he was holding over Slice’s head? There were suddenly too many pieces to the puzzle and she’d only been here a few hours.

  Only seconds later, Master Diablo walked back into the bar, his expression blank, his eyes sweeping the table.

  The leash that had been coiled on top of the table slipped off, the metal buckle tinkling as it hit the ground. She cringed, resisting bending over to retrieve it.

  His gaze followed the trail as he moved closer to the table, a hint of anger crossing his face. “You didn’t follow instructions.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You left the table as well as the bar. Didn’t you?” His tone had altogether changed, gruffer and demanding.

  Swallowing hard, she could sense a bead of perspiration over her lip, a dead giveaway. “I did.”

  He kept his eyes locked onto hers, the stare cold and icy. “Retrieve the leash and follow me. You are going to learn, one way or the other and I’m the man to teach you respect as well as obedience.”

  Chapter 4

  The Dungeon. Her gut told her in no uncertain terms that he was taking her toward the basement. She’d read over the map of the Castle, had a good sense of various locations. Her heart remained in her throat as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. He hadn’t bothered to attach the leash, but simply ordered her to follow him.

  And she did.

  As they proceeded into the entranceway, toward the curved staircase, she fought the prickling nerves settling in her stomach. She couldn’t break her cover at this point, especially for a killer. What the hell was he planning on doing?

  The half-hidden entrance was located under the stairs and it was obvious that Master Diablo knew exactly where he was going. As she passed through the door, she felt as if she was going back in time. The electric torches lining the passageway flickered, creating an eerie ambiance. The sound of dripping water was almost soothing, albeit the entire stairwell was claustrophobic. She held her breath as they entered the Dungeon proper, a long room with several adjoining ones, their appearance she could only describe as prison cells.

  Goosebumps remained on every inch of naked skin as they passed what had to be a Dungeon Monitor. She could see several other rooms and another hallway. Muffled sounds of various scenes could be overheard, the various noises echoing in her ears.

  Master Diablo selected an empty cell, moving into the center of the room. He turned in her direction, the anger now replaced by a bland expression, as if this was nothing more than a training session.

  She had never felt so subdued, so uncomfortable even though a portion of her was tingling in anticipation. This was nothing like the BDSM clubs she’d experienced. There were various implements hanging on the wall from floggers and leather straps, whips and canes to Lexan paddles. What drew her attention the most was the St. Andrew’s cross positioned in the corner. She realized she’d taken a full two steps backward when he finally spoke.

  “Remove your clothes.” There was no inflection in his tone of voice, no indication that he remained furious with her. He unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them past his elbows. “If I have to ask you again, the session will be longer and much more severe.”

  While there was little to remove, she still hesitated, her nerves on edge, her heart racing. She was breathless with excitement, yet her stomach churned. Trust. The word remained, a desperate need to feel secure in this man’s hands. She blinked several times as tears formed in her eyes. This was her fantasy, the very one she’d thought about, read about and investigated for years.

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, he softened his expression. “Undress, Scarlet. I promise you that I know what I’m doing. I’ve been trained for years and while I will hurt you, I won’t harm you. Do you understand the difference?”

  “Yes, sir.” Shit. Her teeth were chattering. She eased the leash onto the adjoining table, fingering the strap before lowering her head. Her fingers were so cold, stiff as she attempted to remove the catsuit, kicking off her heels and dropping the material on the small table. She’d already had sex with this man, had his cock in her mouth, yet this was far more vulnerable. Crossing her arms over her chest, she was more like a little girl waiting for punishment from daddy than a grown woman ready to experience a lifetime of desire.

  He cocked his head, his eyes moving all the way down the length of her body. “When I give you an order, you follow that order. There could be more than one reason, including keeping you safe.”

  The comment came out of the blue, an admission of sorts, but she didn’t react. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” The butt plug remained firmly in place, another reminder of his clear authority. As the air moved across her naked ass, the silicone plug was more noticeable, her muscles constricting around the thick invasion.

  “Come here.”

  Her feet were heavy as she walked in his direction, the cold and damp of the dungeon settling into her system. She had difficulty understanding her
attraction and her desire for pain, the longing furrowing deep within her psyche. But this was everything to her, an awakening of sorts, an acceptance of the woman inside. The dichotomy of her feelings was irrational, keeping her pulse rapid, her mouth dry.

  Master Diablo brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers touching her skin in a gentle fashion, loving and caring. Even his eyes held a different appearance, the light within them full of a deeper emotion. “I’m going to whip you. The pain will be severe. You have the safeword and I will understand if you feel it necessary to use, but if you do, I will find another method of punishment.”

  “Yes, sir.” Had the words been spoken or only thought? She had no idea, no concept of reality as he walked her to the cross.

  “Arms over your head.”

  Cassandra obeyed instantly, stretching out her arms as she faced the cross. A quiet peace settled into her mind, relieving some of the angst, the sickening anxiety.

  Master Diablo secured one wrist then the other before moving behind her. “Spread your legs.”

  Again, she performed the task with ease, the shackling drawing her closer to the cross. When she was secured, she took several deep breaths, shifting her arms. A moment of panic washed through her, creating a wave of blinding fear and she struggled, jerking back from the bindings.

  “Shh… Relax. You’re safe in my hands,” he half whispered as he pressed his hand against the small of her back. “No one will ever harm you. Not as long as I’m alive.”

  Just hearing the words was cathartic, bridging the fear with her desire, creating a separate wave settling into her system. She knew he was telling the truth. He would protect her. She blinked hard and fast as he patted her ass and moved away. He was selecting an implement, a method of delivering pain. Every joyful desire was rolling into her mind, quieting the demons, enticing the woman hiding behind the mask.

  By the time she heard his footsteps again, she was salivating, her entire body tingling.

  Master Diablo eased behind her, sliding material down her spine to the crack of her ass. “Three-tailed flogger.”