He pressed a quick kiss against her lips. The fullness of his lips against hers was always a surprise, considering how hard they always seemed when he looked at her. “Forget what I said before. Don’t worry.”
It was impossible to obey that order, but at least she could pretend. She could narrow her focus to the practical, so that when he finally relinquished her at the door of his cottage, she ran inside in search of bandages and creams.
At least he let her tend his feet. Kneeling in front of him, she eyed the undiminished rise in his jeans.
He shook his head firmly. “No, subby. Not yet.”
When? she thought, but thank goodness she couldn’t speak.
Chapter Five
She hated waking because of the uncertainty. The fear that this had only been a momentary delusion, the child of a painful subspace coma. She took a moment to convince herself this was real, rubbing the cotton sheets, counting the planks in the ceiling. She would have touched her Master too, but she couldn’t risk waking him. Besides, his gentle snores were real enough. She almost smiled. It wasn’t likely her dreams would have conjured that.
The moonlight shone brightly through the window, illuminating his coarse features. It occurred to her that she could trick him into having intercourse with her. Likely he was already hard. If she touched him now, he might fuck her in his sleep like before. She didn’t feel guilt over what had happened then, it had been purely accidental, completely unexpected.
But if she made any overtures now, it would be willful. A deliberate attempt to make him have sex with her when he had already said no. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t be like the men who had hurt her.
No matter how she tried to rationalize it in her head, the part of her that knew right from wrong stubbornly refused to die. Even though it might increase their intimacy and thus better secure her place here, she couldn’t defile him that way.
A few sips of water might settle her nerves. She would have lapped at her bowl if she were still imprisoned, but now she could get up and retrieve a glass of water herself. It had been startlingly easy to fall into this new role, one where she made requests, not pleas. One where she did for herself instead of waiting. It made her consider just how long her slavery had really been.
It made her wonder what came before.
Pushing that unwelcome thought aside, she found her way through the hallway. Without the light of the large window, the rest of the house was nothing but shadows. She filled a glass; the splash of water was loud, reminding her of the rushing waterfall from earlier today. The faucet turned off with a squeak.
She paused, staring at the dark ripples in the cup she held. By slow degrees she became aware of an echo of her own breath. The hair on her neck raised. She wasn’t alone in the room.
“What are you doing out of bed?” came the low voice from the corner.
Master!
How had he managed to slip past her without her noticing? It didn’t matter. He was there. His voice sounded different, like the low voice he had used to tease her, but more. As if he knew a big joke that she didn’t. She felt an answering smile on her own face, but it was slanted with her confusion. And her worry. He was kind when stoic, he had spanked her when playful, what did this new side of him mean?
He was closer now. “A pretty little slave knows better than to wander away.”
Then she recognized that tone: cruelty. Just this morning she had marveled at his lack of it. Now it appeared she would see its face, even if it was still too dark to see his.
She had the urge to flee, but where would she go? She had the urge to fall down at his feet, but he had always hated it when she did that.
“How quickly you forget yourself,” he said in a musing tone.
A gasp escaped her, but it was too late. He caught her by the arm and yanked her to him. Off balance, she would have tumbled into his body, but he turned to the side. She landed face-first on the floor with him following close behind, on top of her.
She panted, thoroughly subdued before she had even thought to fight.
“No one will hear you if you scream. But then, you can’t scream, can you?” He spoke low against her shoulder just like earlier, but this was different. The rumbling of his voice dragged through her body like barbs down her back. There was none of the pleasure.
None of the care. She had not realized how gentle he had been with her before. She had been far too distracted by the feelings coursing through her cunt, her breasts. But now all she felt was his hand on her neck, pressing her face into the lumpy wood floor. And the feel of his cock lying against her ass made her squirm.