The female’s hands fisted my hair and she threw her head back. I couldn’t stop watching as her pink lips parted, her hot breath drifted over my skin and a long cry raced from her throat.
Her hips ground harder against my cock. As her cunt jerked back and forth, I gripped her ass. My thighs tensed and I snarled as pleasure built at the base of my spine. Then I came. Thundering out a shout, I tucked my head into the female’s neck. Her skin was damp and warm. I pressed my cheek against her shoulder and breathed in her scent as her hands stroked over my head and through my hair.
I closed my eyes, calmed by her touch. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her back, keeping her close.
My stomach fell when I thought of Master coming to take her away from me. I didn’t want to lose her.
I thought of the other females he owned and what he made them do. They would fuck other males, several males at a time. He would make me fuck them. Hard. Rough. Unleashed. He would try to make them cry. He would laugh. He wanted me to make them bleed.
The females wore no clothes and had their number tattooed on the back of their necks. I stiffened. Did this female have her number there, too? Was she forced to fuck men, too?
Loosening my grip, I pulled back. I looked at the female’s face. Her eyes were confused. She bit her bottom lip. My gaze dropped to her smooth body, her pale skin. There were no marks, no numbers.
“Are … are you okay?” she asked softly. I frowned.
Why did she talk? Did she not fear Master’s punishments? I was forbidden to talk, never to raise my head, only to follow his commands and to kill.
I waited for the poison to return to my blood. I waited to feel pains in my stomach. I waited for the need to kill to overwhelm my body. But nothing happened.
No poison.
No pain.
No rage.
I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Nothing made sense.
“Please,” the female whispered, and shuffled back off my lap to bend down and look in my eyes, “are you okay?”
Gripping her arm, I spun her around and lifted her hair off her back. She let out a fearful cry when I did so, but I needed to see her number. Her neck came into view. There was no number. I searched her back, her arms, and her wrists. No number.
Confused, I sat back. Why didn’t she have a number?
The female turned to face me, her brown eyes wide. I stared at her. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what the other females looked like. But I couldn’t remember their faces. Something stopped me from remembering. I remembered fucking them. I remembered their numbers. But I couldn’t remember them … yet I remembered everything since I’d met her. Every part of her face, every strand of her long blond hair, every inch of her soft pale skin.
The female suddenly moved, catching my attention, and retrieved her clothing. Without breaking her gaze, she pulled it over her head.
Her cheeks were red, and she was shaking.
She stood, and my heart seemed to stop. She was leaving. I didn’t want her to leave. Her brown eyes filled with tears, and she turned in the direction of the stairs. I’d hurt her. I hadn’t meant to. I didn’t want her to go.
Something inside of me made me lurch forward and I wrapped my hand in hers. She looked back, her lips trembling.
My chest tightened.
Something inside of me made me pull her forward. She gasped, but that didn’t stop me. I wanted to hold her, touch her. When her stomach hit my chest, I wrapped my arms around her waist.
I heard her sniff and closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t leave me. I always felt fire, my mind stabbing with hurt and pain. But since she had been brought to me, I hadn’t felt any of it.
She took the fire and pain away.
She made me feel … safe.
The female didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she ran her hand down my cheek. I pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes softened and she said, “What is it? Tell me please? What were you looking for on me?”