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I stiffened and cried out, tears threatening at the corners of my eyes as pleasure and pain distorted my senses completely.
I hadn’t stood a chance.
My release burst over me like a firestorm. All at once, I was burning, drowning in the throes of an ecstasy so intense that the very breath in my lungs stuck fast in my throat. Every muscle in my body cinched tight, the coil of lust within me shattering into microscopic pieces, never to be put back together again.
He forced one orgasm after the next from my quivering body. I panted to draw in the air I so desperately needed, and still, his tongue tortured my clit.
It grew hotter still.
Every orgasm grew more vicious than the last. Everything started to hurt, the pain beginning at the surface of my skin, traveling deep down until every nerve burned with agony. It was torture, but the most delicious kind and I couldn’t get enough.
He forced me to the edge of another powerful orgasm and just as I was about to come, he pulled back and his fingers went completely still inside my hungry channel.
I cried out forlornly, my skin itching for satisfaction. My inner walls fluttered around his thick knuckles and I begged him to continue. Every inch of my flesh blazed hot and I vaguely wondered if I was burning in the fiery pits of some pleasure chamber in hell.
“Do you want to know the truth, Kassandra?” he asked, his voice hardly above a purr.
“What?” I asked, trying to break through the haze of my throbbing lust to listen to what he had to say. I couldn’t focus, entirely too lost in the throes of pleasure and I simply groaned from the residual ecstasy humming through my veins.
“I’m going to show you.”
My vision dimmed, first turning gray and fading to black, but still, I could feel the throbbing of blood in my veins and I screamed.
I watched as a disjointing series of images flashed before my eyes. My body still in the bed of the asylum. Me fighting the guard in the stairwell at the asylum. The security team waiting in formation on the roof of the building. Me, looking over the edge down to the street below. It was strange, as though I was watching myself do these things, rather than experiencing them myself.
“Are you really here with me, Kassandra? Is this really your own body or is what you’re experiencing now just a piece of you?”
More visions sped by.
I watching as my form looked at the building across the way, the one I’d jumped to and Markos had saved my life, grasping my hand in his and claiming me forever.
Only.
No one was there.
There, on the ledge, I was talking to myself, pleading for my master to save me and protect me.
I cried out as I watched myself jump from one building to the other, begging for Markos to help me escape. The guns behind me popped loudly and I watched almost in slow motion as bullets raced by my body and then, one caught me in the shoulder, throwing my form off balance. I grimaced. It didn’t look like I was going to make it.
I reached toward the other building. Where he should have been to catch me.
Markos wasn’t there. I was completely and utterly alone.
I screamed in terror as I began to fall. I’d never made it. I’d never made the jump. I watched, panicked as my body flew down, plummeting toward the ground with malicious force and I shrieked with fear. The ground grew closer and closer and then, a sickening crunch echoed in the ensuing quiet.
I didn’t want to look, but I had to.
I lay on the ground, a puddle of blood growing beneath my body.
I had died.
No. It couldn’t be true. I wasn’t dead. I couldn’t be.
The vision faded, and I was once more in Markos’ grasp.
“That wasn’t real,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with panic. My tongue felt like cotton and sobs threaten to rack my tenuous and pleasure-ridden body.
“It was very real, my little warrior,” he answered.
