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“Keep me,” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling. “Keep me, Master, will you keep me?”
“Forever,” I promised, and leaned down against her, devouring her mouth in a kiss so savage I drew blood from her bottom lip.
I could feel her coming when she tasted the metallic taste in her mouth, her body coming apart. I worked on it, fucking, hitting that spot inside her, making her flutter those eyes open as I worked her into a release she would never forget. I knew how easily she came, but I wanted to make it count with every orgasm she was allowed to have. I was going to play with her until she broke, put her back together, and keep fucking her into the next day, keeping those damn orgasms just out of her grasp until she was desperate for every lick of pleasure I let her have.
She would be addicted. She was already on the path to it, a starved little sex kitten begging for my attention. I would only make it worse. Knead, shape and force her into what pleased me and my cock.
“Beg me to come,” I growled, and she hissed into my mouth like a vicious little animal.
“Come,” she whispered. “Come inside me, make it better so I won’t feel how much you’ve hurt me.”
“More,” I grunted. I was on the verge. My cock was already twitching, more desperate for her than I’d ever been. “Tell me your cunt needs it. Tell me how you need my cum inside you to warm you up, Harlow.”
“Like I need to breathe,” she said softly, and I looked into her eyes knowing she was telling me the truth.
In that moment, she was heart-stoppingly beautiful beneath me, her vulnerable body adjusting to me, her heart broken yet ready for more, another beating, another session of being glued together and smashed into pieces again. And I didn’t know which one of us had it worst, I just knew I was a raging addict, and she was the drug only I was allowed to get high on. Because as the only man who’d tasted it, I meant to keep it that way, protecting her with jealousy and possessiveness that rocked me to my very core.
I let myself come then, stopped resisting the urge to keep going, keep fucking, keep taking her innocence and keep ripping her apart so I could put her together later. I took mercy on her and pumped her hot little snatch full of warm jizz, spurting inside her and thrusting my cock in after to push it deeper into her womb. No condom, nothing between us. Just like the first time. This time, I wasn’t even sure I’d let Pia give her the morning after pill. I fucking wanted to claim her completely. Put my baby in her belly. Fucking chain her to my bed and breed that cunt until she was carrying my damn kid.
The sounds she made were heavenly, and I found myself falling for them. The little whimpers, the whispered pleases, the way her fingers were rigid against my back, but she never dug her nails into my skin, too fucking afraid of what I’d do to her if she hurt me.
“I know what you want,” I told her. “You can keep pretending, Harlow, but I’ve always fucking known you would want this. Admit it to yourself.”
She twisted her face away painfully, and I kissed her neck, resisting the urge to bite down and lick her.
“You were meant for this,” I whispered, pulling my cock out and making her gasp as a trickle of our juices ran down her ass. “You were meant to be submissive. To be my captive. I can read you like an open book. You wanted this since you were a little girl, didn’t you? You wanted to let go of the control.”
She sobbed suddenly as if it was just then that the realization had hit her. That she wanted to be the victim. That she fucking loved being my hostage.
“I’ll never let go,” I promised her, and she shook with inexplicable rage and need.
I held her close. I allowed her this moment of weakness. Of showing her nothing but affection, of kissing her tears and licking the salty trails they left down her cheeks. She needed it.
“Thank you,” she whispered finally, and I smoothed her hair away as she crawled onto my lap, her eyes burning with fire. “Thank you for taking me.”
21
Carina
I knew he would come and find me.
I knew if I stirred up enough trouble, the mysterious man I’d only seen once would punish me, warn me against him.
Life had been lonely since Harlow had left. Lonely and boring, and it made me obsess over why Harlow had been chosen for the training program over me. Yes, I knew she’d outshined me in our performance of The Nutcracker. Even though she was dancing in a smaller role, she’d done better than me. She was incredible that night. I’d gotten an offer for a larger ballet, but that was it. After that performance, I was quickly forgotten.
