Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6) (27 page)

BOOK: Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6)
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“I don’t know if I can, Reed.”

His lips thinned, and he spoke to me sternly.  “You can and you will.  But I’ll give you time.”

“Thank you,” I said, even as I doubted him.  But there was one thing I had absolutely zero doubts about.  “I love you, Reed.  And I think I would like that ring.  And the collar,” the last was a shy admission.

He grinned.  “Then it’s a good thing I’ve already picked out both of them.”

“You didn’t,” I said in disbelief.

“I did.  I’ll never lie to you, Katie.  You know how I feel about lying.  So you know I’m telling the truth when I say I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

His mouth came down on mine, gently coaxing at first, then turning rougher when I responded.  My lips tugged up against his as joy obliterated the last of my grief.  As his tongue plundered my mouth, I melted for him, and I knew he had well and truly mastered my body and my heart.  One day, I would be able to tell him that properly.  But for now, a ring and a collar would do.

Epilogue

 

Reed

 

Three Weeks Later

 

 

Katie’s pale skin was stunning, contrasting beautifully with the slim black collar that encircled her throat.  She practically glowed in the dim light of the private room at Decadence, my favorite New York BDSM club.  The owner had reserved this room for us at my request.  With its stone wall façade and grey tiled floor, it was meant to resemble a dungeon.  I had chosen it because it was a close semblance to Frank’s basement, including the bondage apparatuses.

I could feel her fear quivering off her.  It got the feral part of me hard, but my more savage desires were tempered by concern.  I was intentionally calling forth her fear so that I could eradicate it, but watching her growing terror didn’t please me in any way.  Erotic trepidation was one thing; true horror was another.

Her arms were chained above her, pulling her body taut so that she was forced up onto the balls of her feet.  Despite her fear, she still looked sexy as hell stretched out for me like that, vulnerable to whatever I wanted to do to her.  In this position, her fate was entirely dependent upon my whims.  She had to trust that I wouldn’t do anything to truly hurt her.  She had to trust me completely.  I got off on my power over her, but I loved her for that trust.

As much as I loved her, I still needed something more from her.  I needed it
because
I loved her.  It was an essential part of me that needed to be fulfilled, and I knew she wanted to give it to me.  She was just scared.  I had allowed her the time I promised her, but it had been long enough.  She was still haunted by what had happened in that basement, so I was going to replace those memories with something more powerful.

I brushed her hair off her shoulders, and she jolted at the light contact.  It wasn’t a pleasurable little jump.  I suppressed the urge to growl out my anger at the man who had done this to her.  My anger wouldn’t help her now.

Control. 
I took a deep breath and found it again.

I slipped the blindfold over her eyes.  The chains rattled over her low whine.

“Reed, please don’t.  I don’t want this.”

The sound of her distress almost broke my resolve. 
Almost.  “We’ve talked about lying, Katie.  You’re lying to both of us right now.  I know how hard you come when I tie you up and blindfold you.  You’re letting something ugly get in the way of what you want.  And I won’t tolerate that.”

I pressed my chest to her back, and my hands found her breasts.  Despite her protests, her nipples were peaked and ready for my torment.  I pinched them to remind her of who was in charge.  The way her hips rolled against me as she squirmed made my cock strain against my
leathers.  I wanted to free myself and plunge into her wet heat right then, but she wasn’t ready for that yet.  There was more I needed to do to make her forget she had ever been afraid of what we shared.

I nipped at her earlobe, enjoying the way she shivered in response.  “I’m going to hurt you, Katie.”  She stiffened, and I pinched her nipples again to call her back to me.  The pain I gave her tied us together.  She needed the release it gave her, and I needed to see her complete abandon under my hands.  Until she accepted that she longed for it, there would always be a barrier between us.  “I’m going to hurt you, and you’re going to accept it.  You’re going to enjoy it.  And then you’ll thank me for it.  You’ll thank your Master for giving you what you need.”

“Reed, I…”  Her voice wavered.  “I don’t think I can.”

I continued to tease and torment her nipples, distracting her from her worries.  Her head dropped back against my shoulder.  “I know you can.”  My hand skimmed down over her abdomen and dipped between her legs.  The wetness I found there satisfied me on a soul-deep level.  Her body knew what she wanted, even if her mind hadn’t yet been convinced.

Well, I would just have to convince her.  I knew just how to break her down, and the sweet spot between her legs was a good place to start.  I found her hardened clit and traced slow, teasing circles around it.  She rocked her hips up into my touch, seeking more.  I pinched the little bud in response to her efforts.  I couldn’t hold in my low, satisfied chuckle when she cried out.  I loved watching her come apart under my touch.

Again, I restrained myself from going further.  I had promised her pain, and I hadn’t even begun to give it to her.  Her little whimper of protest when I pulled away brought out my slightly evil smirk.  Denying
myself was worth it when I got to enjoy how much my denial affected her.  She needed me just as badly as I needed her, and that was immensely gratifying.  No, it was more than gratifying; it was vital.

I retrieved a cane from my kit bag.  It was harsher than anything I had used on her before, but she would need more pain than usual in order to work through this.

She shifted her weight nervously as she waited for what I had planned for her.  I took it as an excuse to begin.  The cane whipped through the air and came down on her ass with a satisfying
thwack.

“Be still,” I admonished over her shocked shout.  She sto
pped shifting instantly.  All her muscles went rigid, and she stopped breathing.

My hand stroked down her back in reward.  She shuddered and sighed, and I smiled at the first signs of surrender.

I began a series of light taps of the cane on her ass, working my way from the upper curve down to her thighs.  Her lovely skin flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, and her muscles loosened as she eased into the sensation.  Just as her head began to fall forward with her relaxation, I brought the cane down hard, giving her three hits in quick succession.  Horizontal red lines bloomed across her soft flesh, and she let out a harsh cry.

I stroked her back again, soothing her until her breathing returned to a normal rhythm.  I
resumed the light taps, but this time her tension remained as she anticipated the next hit.  So I gave it to her. 
One, two, three, four, five.

She screamed and arched away from me.  I resumed tapping immediately, not stopping to comfort her with my hand.

When her muscles relaxed this time, it was in acceptance.  She ceded to my control over her body, surrendered to the pain.  I gave her one last hit, and her head bowed with a gasp.  When I reached between her legs, I found her soaking wet and swollen with need.  She moaned when I tested her arousal.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?”  I prompted in my darkest voice.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I slapped her pussy.  “Try again.”

“Master!”  She cried out my name.  “Thank you, Master.”

“Good girl.”  I thrust two fingers into her and found her g-spot.  I relished her little shriek of pleasure as she began to contract around me, primed for her orgasm by the release the pain had brought her.

“Thank you, Master,” she panted out as she came down.

I growled out my satisfaction and freed myself from my leathers.  Denying myself for so long had made me painfully hard, but it was a small price to pay for what I had earned from her.

I drove into her fully, forcing her up onto her toes with the harshness of my entry.  She fluttered around me, already on the edge of another orgasm.  She fit me perfectly, in every way.  As I began to move within her, I teased her clit with one hand while I tweaked her nipples with the other.

She exploded again, and her pleasure brought about my own.  I rode her savagely as I emptied myself into her tight heat.  My arms tightened around her waist, holding her up so that the cuffs didn’t bite into her wrists when her body sagged against me, sated and satisfied.  My breaths came in harsh gasps that teased through her hair, making the coppery strands float before my eyes.  I was just as caught up in her as she was in me.

Her head turned, her lips blindly seeking mine.  “I love you, Katie,” I murmured against them before I claimed her mouth.  I kissed her long and deep, until she quivered in my arms, her body heating up for me again.

When I finally pulled away to allow her the chance to breathe, she said the sweetest words I had ever heard.  “I love you, Master.”

 

The End

 

 

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Series! 
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Want to know more about Kathleen and Frank’s twisted relationship?  Check out their story in
Mentor
.

 

A beautiful, nameless man took me. He wants to break me and make me his. He treats me like his plaything, but I suspect I mean more to him than idle amusement. The monster needs me.
 
What's truly terrifying is that I'm coming to need him. He sets my body on fire, and I crave his touch. 
When trapped in the dark, the blacker shades of lust can be confused with love...

 

Excerpt

 

Prologue
The Mentor

 

April 20, 1978

 

 

I slinked further into the shadows, concealing myself in the darker shades of night.  The tremor in my hands came not from apprehension or hesitancy, but from anticipation.

I waited for my victim.

Soon, the darkness within me would be released, the pressure siphoned off.  She would take my darkness.  I would impart it to her, inflict it upon her.

I would be able to breathe again.

Seeking to still my shaking, I immersed myself in the memory of the first and only time the enigmatic pressure within me had been released.

Screams.  Blood.  Death.

Power.
  Freedom.  Absolution.

I realized now that I hadn’t really been alive before the day the light left my father’s eyes.  His lifeblood spilled over my hands, and the dulling film of perpetual apathy that coated my psyche dissipated.  The world became sharp, my senses impossibly heightened.  It was the closest thing to human emotion I had ever experienced.  The pleasure that flooded me was the nearest approximation I could imagine to what normal people called joy.

But now the memory of that hyper-awareness – that sensation of being
alive
– tormented me as much as it pleased me.

No sooner had I disposed of my father’s body than the sensation began to fade, and the dim monotony of my detached existence began to seep back into me.  Now that I was aware of it, the dimness built, gathering slowly into darkness. 
My darkness.

It coiled within me, slithering through my veins and rendering my very pulse sluggish.  It would overcome me, would consume me from the inside out, if it didn’t find release.

Killing again wasn’t an option.  I might not have a formal education, but I wasn’t stupid.  I wasn’t going to leave a trail of bodies behind and risk being caught.

If I kept
her
with me, she could take my darkness regularly.  I would allow it to consume her rather than me.  I would train her to like it.  Otherwise, my darkness would devour her completely, and I would have to find a new toy.  I couldn’t risk drawing attention to myself by taking more than one woman.

Kathleen Marie White wasn’t special to me in any way.
No one was special to me.  I had chosen her because she was convenient and she suited my needs.

Like me, she practically lived at the
Hesburgh Libraries at the University of Notre Dame.  She had come here to study for the last four years, and even though I was a few years younger than she, I had been coming here for much longer than that.

I wasn’t a student, but I had always found solace at the library.  The desire to avoid my father and my disinterest in mundane human interactions made it an ideal place for me to hide out.  People couldn’t speak in the library.  The pointless tedium of social pretentiousness was muffled within those walls.

As always, she was the last to leave the library on a Saturday night.  The light of the streetlamp near the entrance caught the reddish facets of her dark hair, crowning her head with a crimson halo for the space of a moment.

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