Series: Dark erotica , Book 3 Author: Skye Warren Publisher: Skyerotica Release Date: September 15, 2012
Word Count: 32,000
She doesn’t remember her past, only her training. She can’t talk, not that a good slave should speak out of turn. None of that matters when she wakes up in the warm, rustic room. Her new master is distant, but kind. There’s only one problem: he doesn’t want her.
Longing for the shackles of safety, she pulls from the last dregs of her will to prove her worth as a slave. It seems to be working. He responds first to her body and next to her submission. The secrets of his past haunt the cabin, fraying the tightening bond between Master and slave, but it is her own memories that may finally unravel it.
WARNING: This book contains explicit scenes of sex, including dubious consent and captivity situations. The BDSM does not conform to literary conventions, making it sometimes more realistic, and other times not. This is a work of fiction not appropriate for anyone uncomfortable with these situations or anyone under the age of eighteen.
She kissed him. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted—in surprise, she thought—and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she’d done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. She needed it, and if he took it away, if he stopped her… He did stop her, but only to reverse everything, changing it but leaving it the same, with only the flick of his tongue and the tightening of his hand on her hip. Then it was him kissing her; it was her sighing. Please, oh please. And he answered her with his heat, his taste, with the pleasure he found from showing her this place of beauty and magic. No, she’d been wrong. Any price would be too high if she were to lose this after all. Even precious courtesy wouldn’t be enough, compared to this. The world upended around her, from pain to pleasure, from survival to passion. The pebbled beach smoothed to velvet under her feet, the moisture in the air slicked their skin. An ache started in her sex, and her hips rocked against him. She would have restrained herself, once she noticed, but he moaned, and she knew without words that it was good. She was good, and he wanted her to keep doing it. So she let her body lead—strange though it felt, foreign and uncertain. She rolled her body along his, she ran her hands over his skin. It wasn’t her anyway. This was too much, too fast. It had to be some other woman playing the sensual lover, because she would never dare. And when he said, “God, yes, so long,” it was only a dream. He broke the kiss, and she sighed with regret. But then he pulled her the water, where eddies of warm and cool tickled her feet. She gasped in delight, and it sounded sharply even over the rush of the cave. It had a strange amplifying effect—even the silence was loud, but each small splash or sigh was a roar in her ears. She looked up to find him watching her with an enigmatic expression. In the shadows, the darkness of his eyes loomed large. She imagined she could see his thoughts, that they swirled like so much smoke: thick bands of lust, wisps of amusement. Her training wasn’t about how to stand or to suck, not really. She had become an expert at reading expressions, at decoding body language. He was a formidable cipher, but she only needed time. Meanwhile, she knew well enough what those heavy lids and flattened lips meant. She saw the tinge of red on his cheeks. All of that would have told her, even if she hadn’t seen the bulge in his wet jeans. He wanted to take her, and this time, it wasn’t in his sleep. It wasn’t in some awkward moment, born of pity—no. He had initiated this. He had brought her to this magical place. No dream. He seemed to like her forwardness. It seemed to release a curious guilt he seemed to have about her status, so she tentatively reached up to sweep a wet lock of hair from his forehead. He remained still for her touch, his expression one of approving forbearance. But when she went to stroke down his neck, he caught her wrist. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to say no, if you don’t want it too. I’m afraid you can’t. If I were better—stronger—I wouldn’t even make you choose, but I…” He sighed. The moisture in the air beaded on his eyelashes. “It’s been so long. I’ve waited so long.” He pulled her in deeper, until the water climbed her thighs and lapped at her sex. They followed the wall of the cave until it opened up onto a small beach. There was a small beach here, completely enclosed by cool stone and reflective water. Barely enough place for both of them, but she knew that was the point. Here even the white noise of the water was reduced, and all she could hear was my breath and his. “I never imagined a submissive as perfect as you,” he said lowly, but the words were as commanding as she’d ever heard him. “I keep thinking you’re not real, that I’ll wake up and find myself alone again. But this isn’t real, is it? You aren’t really like this. They made you this way.” Don’t make me think about it. Just want me. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “When you look at me, so damn trusting. It’s not right. I know that, but I can’t stop. Will you let me, subby? Can I hurt you?”
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