I grunt a response. I don’t understand either. I was just thinking out loud. I don’t even know why I said anything.
“Who was she?”
“My mother,” I answer simply.
“What happened?” she asks, and I run a hand down my face. The vision of her lying cold and lifeless on the ground haunts me in that moment.
“Go to sleep, kitten.” I shouldn’t have said anything. I shake my head slightly; none of my past means anything. It has no relevance to Katia and her night terrors. The exhaustion from the day is clouding my judgment.
“I just...” Katia starts to say something, but her voice trails off. The worry is evident in her voice. It shouldn’t be there at all.
I shouldn’t have opened my fucking mouth. I regret saying anything.
“This conversation is over. I’m a Master because I take pleasure in it.” My voice is strong and she should more than understand that I mean what I say. “That’s the end of this conversation.”
“But-” Katia starts to question me, eagerness to learn more in her voice. She doesn’t use my title, and I’ve had it. My kitten is a playful one, curious and wanting to please me and learn more about me. But she should know better.
I grip her hip in one hand and flip her forcefully onto her back, pressing my body against hers and pinning her wrist above her head.
She gasps from the force and my rough hold on her.
“Did you question me?” I ask, my eyes narrows, my voice low and full of a threat.
“I’m sorry, Master.” Her words come out quickly, full of fear. Her body is tense and still.
“Did. You. Question me?” I repeat louder, my dick hardening simply from the feel of her soft body beneath mine.
“I did and I’m so sorry, Master.” Her pale blue eyes tell me everything. She’s truly repentant. But she needs to be punished.
“On your knees,” I hiss in the crook of her neck, my hot breath sending a chill down her body. I release her and sit on the balls of my feet, waiting for her to get into position.
She does so quickly and obediently.
I have to lean over to the nightstand and turn on the light. Her pussy and ass are sore, I'm sure of that. As I click it on and move back behind her, I gentle a hand on her ass. It’s still bright red. Her upper thighs are virtually untouched, which leaves possibilities. I don’t have the cream in this room for aftercare though.
Fuck. I clench my jaw. I hate being so limited. I spread her pussy lips to see how swollen and red she is.
Denial it is.
“You will not cum, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Master,” she says, her voice clear, yet low and full of agony.
“This is a gentle punishment. Do not push me again.”
“I won’t Master.”
I shove my fingers into her tight cunt, stroking along her G-spot before she’s even able to finish. I’m quick and rough, watching how her body moves roughly with the force from me finger fucking her.
Her soft moans and her thighs trembling only make me want to fuck her more. But this is a punishment. Not a reward.
As soon as her pussy tightens and her upper body shifts and twists, trying to avoid the inevitable, I know she’s close. Katia pleads in a whisper, “Master,” as I pull away from her. I watch as she stays on all fours, letting the intensity of her impending orgasm fade. Her eyes are closed tightly, and her breathing is coming in pants.
I could do this for hours, but I don’t fucking want to.
I’m hard as fuck, but I’m irritated. I ignore my own needs. We’ll both suffer tonight.
“Go to sleep, kitten,” I say flatly, lying on my back, but holding my arm out for her.
She cuddles beside me and I kiss her hair. Hating that I’m leaving her in need, but she needs to be punished.
Even after she’s fast asleep and safe in my arms, I’m wide awake, wondering if I’m a capable enough Master for her.
Chapter 20
Katia
I stifle a yawn as I lower myself into the cushioned chair in the corner nook of Isaac’s large chef’s kitchen, the smell of rich coffee filling the room mixing in with smell of bacon, eggs, sausage and pancakes. My heart skips a beat as I look out through the beautiful large windows at the early sunrise, marveling at the spectacular view of the immaculate landscaped grounds. Isaac’s property is truly picturesque, and the golden halo from the morning sun makes it almost look worthy of a scenic postcard portrait. It’s a far cry from the hell that I lived in under my last Master.
I shake my head slightly, by forehead pinched, feeling like this isn’t real. Instead of a Slave, I feel more like a pampered pet. Like I’m really his actual kitten. More than that, there’s been a shift between us. Last night, something changed. It’s only been one day and I’m already feeling like I’ve seen a side of Isaac that I’m sure he hasn’t shared with anyone. I just don’t know what to make of it.
“You need to eat something, kitten,” Isaac says, drawing my eyes over to him where he’s standing at the coffee maker. He’s stopped manning the multiple skillets he has going on the stove to pour sugar into a cup of fresh coffee. The long silver spoon clinks against the ceramic mug as I watch him stir it.
My heart jumps in my chest again at the sight of him. God, he’s so fucking sexy. Just like this is how Isaac should always be. He has no shirt on, his rock-hard abs on display, and his black silk pajama pants hang low on his chiseled hips, showing off his perfect V. His large cock imprint is easily visible and makes my mouth water with need. He’s not wearing any boxers and I’m just waiting for his cock to slip out of the slit in his pants.
Isaac finishes stirring the coffee, licking the residual drops off the spoon and walks over to the table and sets it down in front of me. “I know you normally skip breakfast, but I want you to eat when you’re with me. I will not eat breakfast alone; do you understand?” It’s hard to focus on his words with his cock imprint in my face and I swear he has a semi hard-on. I can practically see the vein running through his shaft. “Look at me,” Isaac orders.
I swallow back the sudden dryness in my throat and look up into his stunning green eyes.
“You will eat,” he says as a statement. As a fact.
I’m not hungry. I don’t do breakfast, and he knows it, but I must do as he commands. “Yes, Master,” I say, doing my best to keep my eyes on his. The way he’s looking at me, like he wants to devour me, is making it hard to concentrate. This is nothing like what I thought it would be.
I pull the pink silk see-through robe a little tighter across my chest. It already hugs my curves. Even more, the outline of my breasts and hardened nipples are clearly evident and the outline of my mound is visible whenever I’m walking. He’s told me that he wants me to wear this every morning, so I can be accessible to him whenever he pleases. I shiver as I remember his words. I want your pussy available to me at all times.
“Good.” A twinge of happiness goes through me as he turns away and goes back over to the stove to operate the skillets he has going. I didn’t imagine it’d be this easy to please him. I pick at the hem of the robe, and take a small sip of delicious hot coffee. I had no fucking idea what I was getting into.
I take solace in staring at his back, admiring each ridge of his muscles, the outline of his muscular physique, the crack of his chiseled ass. The small dimples on his lower back that my fingers itch to touch. I still can’t get over the fact that he’s making breakfast for me and serving me coffee. I should be serving him like the Slave I’m supposed to be. My last Master never did anything like this for me, never even cared if I ate at all. This relationship isn’t like what I thought it would be at all, and I have to keep reminding myself that Isaac is my Master. In this moment it doesn’t quite feel that he is. But I suppose even pampered pets have Masters.
I watch the muscles in his back contract with each movement as he deftly turns over bacon, scrambles eggs and flips pancakes in the skillets. I sit back against the cushioned seat, m
y mind turning to the previous night. What he told me. God, my heart hurts for him.
How could I not have realized? I was so concerned with fixing myself, and facing my own past that I never once stopped to think that Isaac might be hurting, too. That he might need help just as much as I do. I felt terrible when he held me so early this morning, comforting me, trying to make me forget about my night terrors, when it's clear he needs to forget, too. When he told me about his mother, it all clicked. He’s had a darkness around him from the moment I met him, a sadness that I missed because I was too self-absorbed with my own issues.
Absentmindedly, I bring my cup of coffee to my lips and take a sip, enjoying the rich taste.
“Today you can go to work,” Isaac says, pulling me into the present and drawing my eyes back to him, “but the rest of the week, you’ll have someone cover for you. I’ve taken some time off for your training,” he finishes, as he piles several pancakes into a neat stack on a large plate.
I part my lips to object, but then close them. My dogs are my everything, and I would hate to upset their routine they’ve become accustomed to. And dogs are nothing if not sensitive to routine. If I don’t come in for several days in a row, I know more than a few of them will get worried; we’re a pack, I’m supposed to be there. It distresses me to think that I could upset them by obeying Isaac’s demands, but I signed a contract. I have to obey his rules. He owns me. “Yes, Master,” I reply dutifully, hoping he doesn’t notice my hesitation and praying that my dogs will forgive me.
If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Good,” Isaac says, half-turning to me as he continues to scramble eggs.
I have enough help to take over what I do in person.
“Master?” I ask.
“Yes?”
“May I do some of the administration work on my laptop from here?”
“Yes, when you have a moment, you may.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Well at least that won’t cause any problems with my work. It’s easy enough to handle. My laptop is still open on the counter. Isaac wanted me to go about my morning routine. Which means coffee and checking my messages. It makes me feel uneasy to be on my support group with him in the room, but at the same time I can see that he should know. Kiersten had sent me a slew of messages last night that I wasn’t able to answer until early this morning. I’d told her all about my contract with Isaac and she wanted to know all the details of my relationship. I pull the laptop into my lap and click the spacebar until it’s awake again.
I open to screen to find that Kiersten is already online and has replied only a few minutes ago.
Darlinggirl86: What’s he like?
I nervously pick at my fingernails. Both loving and hating that I’ll be talking about Isaac while he’s in the room. He could easily walk over and see.
My hands resting above the keys, I think for a moment, wondering if I should tell her. The truth is, this relationship resembles nothing like what I think a true M/s relationship should be. While Isaac is still demanding, I have more freedom than I think I should as a Slave, and his kindness totally throws me off.
Katty93: Not what I expected.
I only have to wait half a second before I hear a ding.
Darlinggirl86: What do you mean?
I sneak a peek at Isaac; he’s almost done with organizing breakfast, piling bacon on one plate and eggs on another. I bite my lower lip, wondering how to best answer her question.
Katty93: He’s too nice.
Crap. I feel awful after typing that, but I had to say it. That’s why this feels so wrong to me.
Darlinggirl86: Too nice? Is that good or bad?
I take a sip of coffee, staring at the screen and not knowing for sure if it’d be okay to tell her about what happened early this morning. It’s one thing to be vague about being purchased at an auction and not providing any concrete names or scenarios. It’s another to divulge something so personal. Plus I don't want to violate the non-disclosure agreement I signed.
Katty93: It’s good in some ways, bad in others. But I’m only just learning what he truly needs.
Darlinggirl86: It’s only been one day, Kat. Give it time.
Katty93: I will.
Feeling guilty, I shut my laptop and set it on the windowsill just as Isaac brings breakfast over to the table, setting down plates of everything he's prepared.
“Is everything alright, kitten?” Isaac asks me as he sits down across from me.
“Yes,” I say, flashing a smile that I hope doesn’t betray my nervousness. “Just was chatting with a friend who wanted to know how I’m doing.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” Isaac asks as he grabs a butter knife.
“Kiersten,” I admit.
Isaac slathers butter on each layer of pancake. “Ah. A coworker, I assume?”
I shake my head. “She’s an online friend I met on a support group message board. I’ve never met her before. She’s good people though.” I hope he doesn’t ask me about her past. I honestly don’t know much about it, even if he insisted I tell him more about her.
Isaac grabs his fork after layering his pancakes with a river of syrup and cuts into the stack. “I see.”
I’m surprised that Isaac doesn’t inquire into Kiersten’s background further. I thought he’d be very interested in the dynamics of my relationship with Kiersten and want to control my interactions with her.
I pick up my fork, and spear a small piece of eggs, but I’m unable to bring it to my lips. Instead, I watch Isaac devour his pancakes. I don’t know what game he’s playing here. I feel so lost and like I don’t belong here.
Isaac swallows his mouthful and gestures at my untouched plate. “Eat,” he commands. “Don’t make me have to tell you again.”
“Yes, Master,” I say immediately. I pick my fork back up and can only take a few bites of eggs before I’m forced to put it back down again. My appetite is nonexistent, and I can’t get my mind off how much I want to know more about Isaac. “Master, may I bathe you?” I dare ask.
Isaac looks up from his plate with some surprise, arching a sculpted brow as he looks at me.
“In the shower I mean,” I say quickly, my heart beating erratically. I want to give him more of me. Help him the same way that he’s trying to help me. Please don’t deny me.
Isaac shakes his head, filling me with disappointment. “Not this morning, no. I have to leave after breakfast.”
I try to hide the hurt that flashes in my eyes, but he sees it and sets his fork down, pushing his plate away from him.
He scoots his chair back away from the table. “Come sit on my lap, kitten.”
I’m quick to take him up on his offer.
“Tonight,” Isaac promises as he looks down at me with his lust in his eyes. “Tonight I’ll let you wash me… if you’re good today.”
At least that’s something. “Thank you, Master.”
Chapter 21
Isaac
I set the small gift bag on the bathroom counter, the silk handles falling gently to one side as the steam fills the room. I’m not sure if this will work, but I’m hopeful. It’s a heavy anklet, two inches thick and studded with Swarovski crystals. I would have had it studded with diamonds if I intended on her keeping it, but I don’t.
I had two errands today, and both were successful in some ways. Although I feel cheated by the second. The first was to get this anklet. Easy enough. The second was to meet with my contacts deeper in the world Katia was once a part of. When she killed Carver Dario, she set off a chain reaction of events. His territory and contacts were vulnerable with him gone, leaving two rivals fighting for his territory. His cartel is completely shattered. The other men in her past—Master O, and Javier Pinzan--are dead. I fucking hate it. I had to know for sure, and the dental records confirmed it.
I wanted to kill them for her. I wanted them to truly suffer for what they did to her. Every last one of them.
They’re all dead, but I don�
�t know how to tell her. Worse, I don’t know if she should know. I’m not certain how it will affect her. I need to wait for the right time.
The soft, rhythmic sounds of Katia’s bare feet padding into the bathroom make me turn toward the open door. Although the room is hot with the steam from the shower already pouring out, her nipples are pebbled. As my eyes travel down her body, she’s still, her arms at her side. Her fingers are fidgety though, betraying her inner anxiety.
I know if she didn’t know any better, she’d want to cover herself. I’m just not sure which part of her body she could possibly feel the need to hide from me. I circle her once, making it that much more obvious that I’m assessing her. My steps are slow and deliberate.
I watch her face as I near the front of her again. Her eyes are closed for a long moment until she hears me step in front of her. Those soft, pale blue eyes, staring straight ahead and then sneaking a glance at my face. I let my eyes move slowly, waiting for a reaction.
As I focus on her slender shoulders, her body tenses. And I have my answer.
Her scars.
“You’re beautiful, Katia,” I say easily, unbuckling my pants with my eyes still lingering on her body. “Every inch of you.”
“Thank you, Master.”
My words aren’t enough. But I’ll prove to her I mean what I say. She’ll see her beauty. And if she detests her scars, I’ll take them away.
I won’t let her think she’s anything other than the gorgeous creature she is.
“Into the shower you go.” I shove my pants down and follow her to the other side of the spacious bathroom.
The river rock on the floor of the large shower stall travels up the wall. The rainfall showerhead and three side spouts are going at full steam.
Katia’s lush lips part as she steps under the warmth of the spray. Her skin turning pink and the water darkening her hair and spilling over her lips, her shoulders, her breasts.
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