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Jake Shapero. Her boyfriend who got her addicted to harder drugs and led her down the path that ultimately destroyed the mother I once knew.
I close my eyes, and he’s there. It wasn’t just one punch, but I didn’t see him. As I covered my face with my forearms, I saw her in the background. Sitting at the table, bent over and wiping the coke from under her nose, not even bothering to show emotion.
The business is legit, although some of my methods toe the line. Occasionally I break the law to obtain information. That’s the business I run. We call it security, but we’ve been known to do things a little less legal.
I need complete control. I need trust so deep that she’ll give herself to me completely. I’m not interested in normal. I’ve had a few relationships, but none that meant anything to me.
I know what I want from my partner is fucked up. I want her devotion, and her only desire to be to please me. I want more than I deserve, but I’ll provide every want, every wish, every need. In exchange for her worshiping obedience, I'll give her the same in return.
A lot of what I read was legal jargon, but there are three words that stick out in my mind. Auction. Submissive. Master.
I already know my ways are twisted, so something like this is just a drop in the bucket.
I crave a Master. How much I need a Master.
You’re fucking mine.
I’m not a hothead; I’m not an overtly angry person. But when it comes to her, things are different.
“For instance, right now I want to fuck your throat.” I crouch low, wrapping the belt over the back of her neck. “I want to hear the pretty noises you make when you choke on my cock.”
Without the weight on my ankle at night, I tend to wake up feeling the same racing pulse through my blood and fear of death that nearly suffocates me.
I feel insecure without his collar, without his mark on me.
I’ll do as he says. I need him. I want him as my Master. And I’ll do anything to show him that I’m willing to obey.
It’s odd how the thought of a collar causes fear, but the idea of being whipped and flogged only arouses me.
The way Isaac fucked me so thoroughly, and with that rolling pin… gave me pleasure that defied belief.
“I’ll let you watch tonight. And if you’re good, I’ll let you ride my face and then fuck yourself on my dick. But if you make one sound, one movement, you’ll get none of that, and you’ll go right to bed once I’ve rubbed the cream on your ass so you can at least sit tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I’m broken. I’m hurt. I need you in my life. I need to lean on you and learn to put faith and trust in you like you do me!”
One truth I’ll never deny is this: I’m more of a Slave to her than she ever was, or will be, to me.
Lauren Winters. “More like Slutty Winters,” I mutter angrily, feeling thoroughly cheated.
It’s one of my favorite pastimes during the cold winter months, sitting in front of a roaring fire with a hot mug of coffee and burying my nose into an engrossing romance novel.
Joe Levi. Murderer. Villain.
Kiersten. Or Madam Lynn, as she likes to be called nowadays.
I crave it like a sweet-toothed freak fiending for their next Twinkie.
Pain and pleasure, wrapped in leather. The sensation is addicting.
How the hell did I get myself into this?
Fuck, what this man does to me.
“Can you be gentle at first?” I ask hopefully. “Just for tonight.” I see amusement flash in his eyes, but his expression remains flat. “That’s not in my nature.”
“The only pain I give you will be followed by pleasure.” Oh God. Yes.
My body heats with a cold sweat breaking out along my skin. It’s too much. I can’t… I can’t.
“You fucking love this, don’t you?”
Being bad has never felt so good.
“Who do you belong to?” I ask her. “You, Sir, only you.” I love how lust coats her voice. “Only me for always,”
She is my one and only. And I’m hers.
