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“So good,” I panted, my fingers spearing in his thick hair as I pulled him closer. “More.”
He traced the line of my opening, teasing the little patch of skin between my pussy and my asshole before licking all the way up to my pulsing clit. I thrashed as stars burst across my vision, bliss singing through my veins. He growled against me, and his hands locked around my thighs, forcing me wide open. His tongue circled my clit, applying firm, hot pressure. My inner walls contracted and clenched, yearning to be filled. He licked and sucked at my pussy lips, tormenting me with ruthless pleasure.
It wasn’t enough. I needed him inside me, needed him to mark me with his cum.
Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as pleasure turned to a deep, knifing pain between my legs. The building pressure had to release, or it would destroy me.
“Please,” I choked on a sob. “I need you inside me. It hurts. Please, Master…”
He pressed one final kiss against my clit before his body covered mine. He freed his hard cock from his slacks and lined up with my soaked pussy.
His eyes searched mine, dark with hunger and yearning. “You shouldn’t call me that,” he ground out, hesitating at my opening. “You shouldn’t.”
I wrapped my legs around him and drew him into me. “My Master,” I moaned in relief when he filled me to the hilt.
A deep, pained sound slipped between his clenched teeth. He braced his arms on either side of my head and started to move within me, thrusting hard and deep. His forehead dropped to rest on mine, and he stared down into my eyes, his face drawn tight in an expression I didn’t understand.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “Forgive me, sirenita.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I couldn’t focus on his words. All I could think about was how good his big cock felt stretching my tight sheath, how perfectly we fit together. The ruthless pleasure that had been building inside me crested, and I shattered on a scream.
My fingers fisted in his hair again, and I pulled his face down to mine so I could revel in his exquisite taste while my orgasm rolled through me. I caught his rough shout on my tongue, felt more wetness on my cheeks as his hot cum lashed into me, soothing the need that had consumed me. I shuddered beneath him as bliss flooded my body, making me light and tingly. My numb fingers fell from his hair, finally releasing him as all my muscles turned to jelly.
I closed my eyes and slipped into velvety darkness, his softly-spoken words following me down into sleep: “Forgive me.”
Chapter 23
I stirred, slowly coming back to awareness. My body felt strangely heavy, and I was sore between my legs. I opened my eyes to find the shades drawn, with only the soft glow of city lights peeking around the edges. Night had fallen, but I was just waking up. Everything started to come back to me in pieces: Lauren, dosing me with Bliss; the red and gold room; the boy touching me; and Andrés, coming to my rescue like some dark avenging angel.
I sat up, searching for him. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching me with bloodshot eyes. His posture was stiff, his face a blank mask. He was fully dressed in his sharp suit, but his hair was wet, as though he’d just taken a shower.
“Thank you,” I murmured, reaching for him.
He shifted away, grimacing. “Don’t thank me. I fucked you while you were high out of your mind. I violated you.”
“No,” I said fiercely, grabbing his hand before he could retreat farther. “I begged you to.” Even though I hadn’t been able to control myself while under the influence, I remembered everything clearly now. “I needed you to. I was hurting. You helped me.”
He turned his face away from me, but he didn’t pull his hand from my grip. “You shouldn’t have called me Master,” he said hollowly. “You shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t—” He pressed his lips to a thin slash, holding in whatever he was going to say. “I’m not blaming you. You didn’t know what you were saying. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask to be trapped with me. You didn’t ask to be beaten and raped.”
“You didn’t rape me. Don’t you dare call it that. Don’t you dare.” Angry tears made my vision swim, and I swiped them away from my cheeks. “You were helping me. I trusted you to help me. I love you, Andrés. And I meant what I said. You’re my Master.”
He rounded on me, his eyes blazing. “Don’t call me that,” he barked, his hand tightening around mine in a vice-like grip.
I moved toward him, scooting across the bed so I could get in his face. “You did nothing wrong,” I said, imbuing the words with as much fervor as I possessed. “You saved me. You’ve been saving me this whole time. You’ve been protecting me from Cristian. He would have—”
“He would have what?” he shouted over me. “Ordered Lauren to slip you Bliss and whore you out? That’s what he wanted, Samantha. He wanted you to scream in pleasure while they violated you. He wanted them to send you back to me, broken and used. He wanted to punish me for my failure. I should have killed him,” he hissed, his gaze turning feverish. “But I didn’t. I ran back to you as soon as he told me. He fucking laughed while I ran away from him.”
“You got back to me in time.” I cupped his face in my hands, trying to get him to focus on me. “You saved me. You protected me.”
He grabbed my wrists, squeezing to the point of pain. But he didn’t move my hands away from his face.
“I can’t protect you,” he rasped. “I’m a coward. You deserve better than me.”
“I don’t, and you’re not,” I asserted. “I want to be with you, Andrés. You’re not a coward.”
“I’m afraid of him,” he admitted on a bitter whisper.
“I know,” I said softly. “And I understand.”
