Chapter 14

Astrid

I t's such a strange and ticklish feeling, having this man's face between my legs. "D-don't!" Huffing out breaths, the more I struggle, the stronger his grip on my thighs gets until his fingers sear heat into my skin that spreads to my core.

The sounds he makes against my folds are obscene. Between his slurps, I protest, but the more I do, the more my hips jerk across his mouth. Which makes something odd happen inside me. An uncomfortable pulsing or longing develops until I find myself riding him like a horse. Somewhat bouncing off him to try to get away, but also rubbing my pussy all over his face.

When the demands turn to desperate whimpers, he pauses his strokes. With his tongue still pressing on the delicate flesh, his gray eyes pierce mine. He licks in time with my writhing as we lock gazes. "Something's happening…"

A tightness develops in my belly, and he expertly seems to know how to make it worse until it's tighter, tighter. "Stop, wait! Help me! Please!" I beg him. I don't know what to do and my body scares me.

Warm, wet breaths hit my inflamed flesh as he murmurs, "Let go, angel. Give yourself to your master."

At that moment, my nipples peak, and all I want is to be his if he'll make the ache go away. And with a gnaw on my sensitive organ, he does. "Oh my god!"

Explosions deep within my brain and spine travel across all of my limbs until everything stiffens and I'm locked in ecstasy. I exist only in a pure state of bliss that I've never experienced before and the monster beneath me made me feel it. My pussy flutters and clenches in erratic motions as he dips a finger inside and quells my need with his kisses between my burning thighs.

Once it's done, I slump against the wrist restraints, unable to fight anymore. As wound up as I had been moments before, I'm now like water, head fallen onto my shoulder with my senses puddled at his feet.

I want to do it all over again.

Master rises and lifts my chin with his finger that smells odd…like me.

His hands lace through my hair as he captures my vision and makes sure I steady my gaze on his face. Then he kisses my lips, and I taste myself all over him. Musky and wet; it's something I shouldn't want. He breaks away long enough to rest his forehead to mine and pants out, "Taste yourself on me. I'm the one who gives you pleasure. Do you understand?"

I don't, really. I'm not even sure what happened. But I'm so dazed, I nod.

His soft lips caress mine and instead of some aching hatred for what he's done, I feel confused. Almost comforted in the action. He presses his firm body against me, and I shirk in fear from the large rod sticking straight out from his body. It slots between my throbbing pussy lips as he leans into my ear. "Was that your first orgasm, angel?"

"I-is that what that was?"

A breathy chuckle escapes him, and his lips lift almost into a sly smile. My belly tightens. He's terrifyingly handsome.

"Do what you did to my face on my cock. Ride it."

Shifting my pelvis a little, I wiggle, and that strange pulsing feeling returns with every heartbeat. Can I really have another orgasm? That same high I just experienced? Because I want to live in that feeling forever.

The master slides back and forth through my slickness, and part of me worries he'll force himself into my sore hole again, but he doesn't. One of his hands grabs the back of my neck while the other breezes over one of my breasts. My chest involuntarily rises to meet his touch.

His eyes follow the movement and, as if seeing my nipples for the first time, his fingers grip it and twist until I cry out. The sensation sparks flames toward my center and my hips dance faster along his length.

"Good girl. You'll learn to love my cock and worship it properly."

He makes his way down my ribs until his tongue swirls the peaked bud on my tit. Another sharp pain surges through me as his teeth clamp down on it. When he's like this, he's a different person from the man at the altar. The one who told me about the people coming for me. He's got complete control of me. "M-master…"

Instead of fearing his tip pushing inside me, now it's all I want. My core feels empty and depleted, needing to be filled whole.

Raising up, he presses his lips against my neck and whispers, "Yes, angel?"

"Please, master." I beg for something I don't have a name for.

Grinding against the sensitive flesh of my earlobe, his deep tenor vibrates my eardrum as he asks, "Please, what?"

"Please, make me orgasm again. I-I need it."

His hips dip until the fat head of his dick presses against me and my leg muscles tighten with anticipation. "Say you want me inside you. That you need me to fuck you, little girl. Tell me to fuck you and fuck you hard."

I pull my neck back from him as much as I can and let my eyes meet his intense ones. "F-fuck me hard, master. I need you to fuck me."

The thick crown of him breaches my interior, but not enough. It's just inside my entrance, and I growl with frustration through gritted teeth. Holding there, another chuckle rumbles from his chest. "You'll obey me, huh? You'll be a good girl and do just as I say? Look at me, angel."

His fingers grip my hair, so we stare at each other again. "Tell me you'll be obedient and compliant."

Biting my lower lip, I swallow and consider not saying anything, but as he draws his hips back and away from me, I whimper. "Yes, yes! I'll obey you, master."

The breath is forced from my lungs as he plunges in deeply, and I suck in air as he slides out and does it again. A scream of pleasure and pain rips up my throat as he continues to read my face like a curious observer. He's studying me. My reactions. He's controlling my pleasure.

My fingers grasp at the air for something to hold on to and I wish I weren't hung on this cross so I could feel him. That thought makes me sick to my stomach and also forces the rising passion in my core to the surface. It's unavoidable. But I think this is part of his game.

He gets his fill of me…but I can't touch him.

With two fingers, he pinches my chin and tilts his head as his eyes stare at my lips. "Your young pussy is too tight for me. We'll need to stretch it."

His thumb wanders up to my lips. "Open," he commands, and I do. "Suck." I take it between my lips and massage it with my tongue. As he follows the act, his hips work within me faster. "Good little girl. So obedient. You want to come?"

Nodding, I whimper around his thick digit. There's some soothing comfort in having it in my mouth, and as his other hand grips my waist, a burning fire lights up inside me until I want him to touch me everywhere all at once. Swiveling my hips, I work him deeper inside where I need him most and pull his thumb into my mouth harder. "Such a good girl for sucking my thumb… It's good training for my dick later."

And as I detonate, all I can picture is his thickness replacing it and wanting it to. To taste him and feel him inside me just as he fills my pussy now.

My jaw drops open with a guttural scream as pleasure invades every nerve ending in my body. This time, everything within me shudders with elation, a much more intense sensation dominating every muscle I own. As if it doesn't want to let him go, my pussy clenches down as his firm manhood drives deep within me.

His eyes lower as I try to maintain my gaze on him, and with another few thrusts, a heated liquid makes me expand further than I thought I could go. The crinkles in his forehead deepen as he grunts with his eruption. My inner muscles caress him while his girth pulses within me. Sweat seeps from my forehead with the sensual spell he just cast over me. Air rips from my lungs in halting huffs. Every cell in my brain is intoxicated with euphoria. I blink my way back to reality.

And we stare at each other.

His glistening chest expands rapidly with his breaths and mine does the same.

I'm not sure what transpires between us, but his fingers still grip my skin as if not wanting to let go. And my eyes can't remove themselves from his penetrating expression. He's old enough to be my father, but there's something innocuous behind his injurious image.

Like he just remembered something, he breaks our gaze and moves swiftly to unlock my wrists and ankles. All the liquid he just spent pours from my open thighs. He lifts me into his arms, my legs across his forearms. Swinging us around, he lays me on his bed and places some pillows under my knees.

"Stay like that until I command otherwise." The moment we maybe had is over. And I remember this for what it is.

I'm his breeding pet. He needs my womb only.

"You'll need some care." Scurrying around, he pulls on his trousers and tugs a rope handle hanging above his nightstand. He keeps his eyes on the far wall and paces, as if he can't look at me.

When I lean up on my elbows, he clucks his tongue and scolds me, "Not yet. Lie down." His harsh tone makes me instantly obey. But my skin remains on fire from his flogging earlier. My thighs clench when his eyes rake down the length of me. Just as I think he's about to say something, we're interrupted.

The curvier girl enters with a small tray holding a silver pot, as well as two mugs. He steps out of the way as she sets it down on his small table. With a nod toward me, he instructs her, "Help her with a bath. And tend to her skin." Bending, he lifts the top of the pot and pours himself a mug of tea, then strolls toward the door of his study.

"Sir?" I stop him. Though, clearly, it was the wrong thing to do because his irritation returns in full force. Turning slowly, his gray eyes ice over as he assesses me. "Um, can I move now?"

His wide jaw flexes as he clenches it, and he says with exasperation, "Yes. Dismissed."

When Yasmina grabs me, she practically yanks my arm from its socket, pulling me through to the other room. Like I'm wasting her precious time. She tugs me into my ensuite and shuts the door behind us.

The steam rolls into the room after she turns on the hot water and pushes me out of her way roughly as she opens the cabinet behind the mirror. Taking a bottle of oil, she dumps some into the water and the smell of roses fills the air. After putting it back, she takes out a can of salve and slams it onto the sink.

"Get in and soak. Once you're done, put this on your legs. Make sure they're coated or it's going to hurt worse the next time he beats your ass." She stands back and crosses her arms, shoving her generous bosom up toward her neck. I take the opportunity to slide past her and dip my feet in the hot water.

"Yasmina?"

She looks at her polished nails. "What?"

"Why do you all hate me?"

Lifting her head, she rolls her eyes dramatically. "I think we'd have to consider you in order to hate you. We don't have time to help train someone as stupid as you, is all." When I open my mouth to snap back, she interrupts, "You're right. I do hate you. Or what you stand for. You haven't been through what we all have, and we're expected to wait on you hand and foot, protect you when you don't even respect our master. He gives us everything, and you seem to take it all for granted."

My mouth drops open at her rudeness. "You know nothing about me." Cupping my hands, I splash her with as much water as I can muster as she screams and tries to shield herself as if it's hurting her. Her shock and irritation make me giggle so much, I turn in the tub and start kicking my feet, stirring more of the dreaded liquid toward her.

"You bitch!" she shrieks and darts from the room.

"I don't need you anyway!" I scream as she slams the door. And I don't. I'm eighteen and know how to bathe myself. Hopefully, these women leave me alone so I can live in these two rooms in peace.

It's relaxing, and for the first time since I arrived, I feel amazing. Two orgasms, a hot, soothing bath, jelly for my skin later, and my body is at ease. Especially when I pull on a thick cotton robe, a hair towel, and slippers and find a tray of hot cocoa and sweets in the parlor.

After my late snack, I'm ready for bed, and fall asleep tucked under the sheets still in the soft robe. I hate that I'm so comfortable.

In the morning, I hear my breakfast tray being delivered and stretch after another good night's rest on a soft mattress. Still rubbing sleep from my eyes, I wander to the sofa. I stop short before I sit, though. Dilan stands like a statue hidden by the shadow of the corner. My voice is still hoarse from the night, but I murmur, "Oh. I didn't see you there."

Stalking toward me, she waves her gracious arm toward the couch. "Please, sit and eat, Mrs. Strauss. I only came to check on you after your…incident with Yasmina. She'll apologize to you, but I'm leaving your punishment to the master."

My brow furrows as I sit and stuff a bite of toast in my mouth. "Punishment? For what?"

"Causing discord among the household. Disobeying his order to have Yasmina tend to you. I don't know what he'll do, but you should check with him."

Shoving in a few more bites, I consider what another punishment from him would be like. The spanking was confusing. The flogger was painful. And the sex was...strange. Too much for me to analyze. "Can't I just hang out here?"

With stiffened shoulders, she turns on a heel. "No. He'll be in the dungeon if you need to find him. But I would wait until he retires to his room for the evening."

"Am I free to move around and stuff?" I nod toward the hall door out of my room.

She blinks for longer than normal, and that's the only sign other than the energy radiating off her that lets me know how much she detests me. "Yes. You're free to move around and stuff . Though I wouldn't try anything stupid."

And with that, she gives me her back and waltzes into the master's room.

As soon as I'm alone, a grin crosses my face. Peace and quiet…

In my bedroom, there's a dresser, but the only thing in it is lingerie or the shift dresses like I have been wearing. Mine is red—to set me apart from the others, I guess. And I still cannot find any panties. Part of me wonders what these women do on their periods.

Or why they aren't always pregnant.

Shrugging, I throw on my required uniform and take my first venture into freedom. Well, as much as the grounds will allow.

The first place I find is a set of back steps that leads directly to the kitchen. That's convenient. Two cooks eye me suspiciously when I enter, their hands busy making dough on a large center butcher block island. One pounds the rounded mass loudly as I skirt past them to the pantry and try the back door. It's still locked. But now, in the daylight, I spot a wall rack with some silver keys hanging from it.

"Can I help you, Mrs. Strauss?" a russet-faced woman, with black hair spiking in every direction, asks, some force behind each word.

As casually as possible, I smile and shake my head. "No, thank you. Just seeing where the snacks are."

"We don't do free food around here. The master doesn't allow it." She stares at me with her hands on her generous hips until I leave through the side door from where I entered.

Another set of steps leads down to what I assume to be the dungeons.

Sure enough, I exit into a stone hall near my old cell. Passing by, I realize…I don't miss it. Not at all. Though some of the solitude was nice. I want to figure out a way to leave so I can find out what exactly happened to my brother. And if the master is lying to me.

My body jolts at the sounds of a man screaming and sobbing, followed by a deep, low voice and a whip cracking. Darting through the halls, I eventually exit into a large, open cavern with several dark wooden doorways. The noises are louder, and when I find the one it's coming from, it contains a window with iron bars near the top.

Sneaking closer, I raise up on my tiptoes to look inside the room and almost shriek with horror at the sight beyond. My hands raise up to my face to stuff the scream threatening to escape me, but it's too late…

The master's fierce eyes spot me.