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“Please, Master,” I panted, loving the feel of his title on my tongue. “Please fuck me.”
As much as I reveled in his hot mouth on my pussy, it couldn’t compare to the feel of him filling me, marking me.
He pressed one last kiss on my clit before pulling away. Shifting his grip from my thighs to my hips, he flipped me over onto my front.
A delighted laugh bubbled up my throat as giddiness soared through me. The strong, assured way he so easily handled my body send bliss pulsing through my veins. When he was in control, I could let go and relax. I didn’t have to worry about being a hero or think about the weight of everyone who was counting on me to save them. I could just be me. I could be vulnerable with him, because I knew in my heart I could trust him to take care of me. I hadn’t withered in his captivity; I’d become stronger than ever. He’d torn me down to my basest self and built me back up again, making me whole for the first time in years.
He made me whole. And I’d made him whole, in return. He still bore the marks of his brother’s torment, but they didn’t go deeper than his skin anymore. He’d escaped. We’d both escaped. In so many ways, we’d freed each other.
“I need you,” I moaned as he pulled me up onto my knees, positioning my pussy where he wanted it. “I need you inside me.” I needed to feel him penetrating me deep, for him to complete me.
He entered me in one hard thrust, stretching me ruthlessly. “Mine,” he snarled, driving into me in harsh, fast strokes. This wasn’t slow seduction, but it was our own particularly dark brand of lovemaking. My pleasure crested as his cockhead dragged across my g-spot, delicious tension coiling low in my belly. His hand fisted in my hair at my nape, pulling my head back sharply so I was forced to arch into him. At the same time, he pinched my clit.
I screamed and shattered, my inner walls fluttering around him as he roared out his own release. His cum branded me with the heat I loved so much.
He held me in place as he emptied his seed deep inside me, keeping our bodies locked together as we both rode out the last of our ecstasy.
When he finally pulled out, he collapsed onto the bed and draped me over his chest so he could cuddle me and pet me. He needed to touch me as badly as I needed to be touched.
We lay there for several minutes, catching our breath while our fingers explored the lines of each other’s bodies. After a while, I trailed my hand down his abs, making my way to his cock. It jerked beneath my soft touch, his desire for me rising to meet my own craving for him.
He sat up, propping his back against the pillows as I straddled his hips and guided him inside me once again. He hissed out a long breath as I slowly lowered myself onto him.
“Te amo, mí sirenita,” he said on a rough whisper. “Te amo.”
“I love you, my Master. My Andrés.”
I leaned into him and captured his lips, claiming him as he’d claimed me. Andrés was mine, and I would never let him go.
The End
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Dark Lessons Excerpt
I smiled when I stepped into the seedy dive bar. It was definitely my kind of place, and this would be my last night to let loose for a while. I would start training for my dream job at Quantico tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be able to party. I didn’t really drink much, but it would be nice to have a night to celebrate my accomplishments.
I’d checked into a motel near Quantico for the night, and The Community Tap had beckoned from across the street. The bar might be a bit sketchy, but I wasn’t at all nervous entering by myself. I’d been taking mixed martial arts classes for two years, ever since I’d started my Master’s degree in Psychology. I’d known I was preparing to apply for a job with the FBI, and I wanted to be physically equipped as well as mentally sharp. I was determined to graduate the academy and join the Bureau.
As I crossed the threshold, I registered several male gazes swinging my way. I ignored them and headed for the bar. I wasn’t here to hook up. I just wanted a beer and a little atmosphere. I’d intentionally selected a conservative sweater with jeans, and I’d applied minimal makeup. I definitely wasn’t dressed to impress, but I knew men found me attractive. It wasn’t a vain thing; I was physically fit from training, and years of male attention let me know I was pretty enough. I could find some company for the night if I wanted to, but that wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t do casual fucks, anyway.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bald, bulky bartender smiled at me.
I didn’t care for the casual endearment, but I brushed it off. “What craft beers do you have on draft?” I asked.
He handed me a list, and I quickly made my selection. A good IPA would hit the spot.
Taking my beer with a smile and a tip, I turned to face the rest of the bar. I grinned when I saw people—mostly men—signing up for a darts tournament.
I was so down for this. I had excellent aim, and it would be fun to compete with the heavily muscled, macho men who were putting their names on the chalkboard and paying the entry fee. Men like that often underestimated me, and I liked proving my worth. It would be a good confidence boost before facing the fierce competition at Quantico.
I crossed the room to the sign up area and confidently wrote my name on the chalkboard, handing the bouncer the five dollars required to compete. He informed me that the tournament would start in fifteen minutes, so I decided I would people watch for a little while and size up my competition.
As I settled back in at the bar, a cluster of hard-faced men in leather jackets caught me looking in their direction. The tallest, biggest one leered and winked at me. Keeping my expression impassive and disinterested, I broke from his gaze. I didn’t want to imply any sort of physical invitation.
