by Stella Noir
His gaze darkens. “Why would you want me to stay?”
"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "I just don't want to be alone."
He looks down on me, pondering. "I imagined you to be someone who is alone a lot. By choice."
"That is partially true," I admit. "I am alone a lot, but it's not always by choice."
"Alright, I will stay with you for now if you stop asking questions that annoy me."
"Okay," I say. "But I have one more: What will happen from now on?"
"I told you," he says. "Training."
I sigh. While I am not allowed to ask "annoying" questions, I wonder why he thinks it is okay for him leave me with unsatisfying answers.
I might have more luck if I settle for smaller steps.
"Let me rephrase that," I add. "What's the plan for today?"
"I have some work to do, so you will be on your own for a while until I bring you dinner. Then, another training session and off to bed."
"That is all I will be doing while I'm here?" I ask. "Eating, sleeping and training?"
He looks at me with a naughty smile on his face. A swarm off butterflies travels through my insides.
He looks so handsome, yet I know that what he is doing to me is so fucking wrong. I wish I could be furious at him as I should be, but it's so damn hard with the way he looks at me and the way he treats me. It's hard to deny that I enjoy our training sessions just as much as he does.
"Yes," he says. "That is all I want you to do worry about for now. Eating, sleeping and pleasure."
"Pleasure?" I ask. "Is that what my training ought to be? Pleasure?"
He nods. "Is it not?"
I blush. It would be ridiculous to deny, because he has seen me. He saw me trembling, wet and flushed, exploding in release.
He pets me on the head like one would pet a little kid.
I still don't understand why he sees the need to lock me in and take care of me as if I was a helpless baby animal, but I know that he won't explain it to me with that many details, no matter how often I would ask. He would just get annoyed and leave the room if I poked at that matter again.
"What is it you miss the most?" he asks out of the blue.
I look up at him with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You look unhappy to be here," he says. "Which I understand. But I know you weren't happy at your family's home either. So I wonder what it is you miss."
"My freedom," I say. "I miss being able to go wherever I want, whenever I want."
He nods. "Okay. What else?"
I hesitate, surprised to see how hard it is for me to answer that question. What would I be doing now, if I were not locked up in here? I would probably be by myself because my family would be out on different errands that I am not involved in. My father usually spends his weekends at the club with his friends when he's not working, and my mother would be out and about with my sister and her fiancé.
I would be home, by myself, either traveling to the same dark places that Leonard has brought me to or...
"My violin," I whisper. "I miss my violin."
"You play the violin," he states. It's not a question, and he doesn't seem to be surprised at all.
"Yes. Just for fun. I'm not very good."
"It is a beautiful instrument," he whispers. "Suits you."
I smile. "It has been my best companion for years."
I might have imagined it, but there seems to be a hint of sadness traveling across his face while he looks at me.
He lowers his eyes and begins stroking my thigh. I have been naked around him so much that I don't even realize it unless he has his eyes on me like he does now. He follows the trace of his fingertip on my pale skin, traveling up to my hipbone. I shiver when he caresses the sensitive skin in that area.
He looks at me, observing my reactions as his finger moves further toward my mound.
"Open your legs for me," he whispers, and I do it without hesitation.
He sighs with approval. "Good girl."
The touch of his finger sends delicate stings through my center. He leaves out the area between my legs, and instead, teases the inside of my upper thighs, traveling from one side to the other without touching my soft lips.
"Look at me," he commands.
My eyes have been following his hand. I draw them away and look up at him. His gaze is dark and intense—hungry for me. Unlike me, he didn't find his release earlier.
The way he looks at me, his dark eyes piercing through me like dark daggers, makes me feel a lot more vulnerable than being naked in front of him. There is no use in trying to hide anything from him. He sees right through me.
But I don't plan on leaving all the authority to him again.
"Why did you not fuck me earlier?" I ask, trying to control my accelerating breathing.
"Did you want me to?"
He rests his hand on my mound, dangerously close to my sex. I find myself shifting beneath him, egging him on.
"Yes," I say. "I would have. I still do."
Leonard smiles. "Good."
He leans down and kisses me. Our tongues intertwine with a desperate need for each other. His hand is still on my lower belly, resting motionless.
"Would you want me to fuck you right now?" he asks breathlessly in between our kiss.
"Yes," I breathe.
"I need you to say it," he adds. "Ask me. Beg me."
I sigh when his hand moves further below until he is cupping my labia. His hand is warm but feels oddly cool in comparison to my soft skin.
"Please," I whisper. "I want you to fuck me."
"Again," he urges, while his fingers start dancing around my throbbing entrance. "Beg, little girl."
I moan when he pinches my clit. He moves away from my mouth, biting and teasing the sensitive skin on my neck as he moves down to my collarbone.
"Please, fuck me." I breathe, arching my back as he continues to kiss and fondle me. "Please, Master. I need you to fuck me."
"Is that what you want?" he asks, now looking up at me.
I nod. "Yes. Please."
He throws me a mischievous smile and pushes one of his finger inside my wetness. I gasp in surprise, once again ashamed at my own arousal. How does he do this? Just a few moments of kissing and I am this ready for him.
It's more than just kissing, though. It's the way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me. His need for me, this inexplicable desire that is reflected in his dark eyes.
But he is not the only one with needs.
"I have another request," I say, touching his upper arm, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt.
He raises his eyebrow. "Another request, huh? Let me hear it and I might fulfill it."
"I want to see you," I plead.
I straighten up so that I am sitting next to him and our eyes meet. He never lets go of me and continues to play with the wetness between my spread legs. A wicked smile appears on his face when I let out a faint moan as he rubs my nub with his thumb.
I lean forward and want to kiss his neck. He grabs me by the hair at the back of my head but doesn't pull me away. It is a mere assertion of control. As if I could ever forget who is in charge.
"Please, Master. Let me see you." I beg. "I want to see you while you fuck me. All of you."
I look up at him and make a move to unbutton his shirt, waiting for his confirmation.
He smiles.
"If that is what you wish," he says. "Go ahead."
I don't need to be told twice and immediately start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his well-sculptured, tanned chest button by button. He looks magnificent. There is not a single hair on his strong upper body, his skin is perfectly smooth—and he smells incredibly.
I run along the sharp outlines of his muscles with my fingertips. This must be the first time I have seen and touched an actual sixpack. It feels surreal, so incredibly hard and soft at the same time.
Just as I want to lean forward to get a taste of his perfect skin, he withdraws hi
s hand from my center and gets up abruptly. My eyes follow him with disappointment at his sudden retreat.
While he takes off his shirt, I finally get a glimpse at the tattoo that got me curious about him the first day we met. It turns out to be a large tribal tattoo, covering most of his right shoulder and upper arm. Thick, black lines run across his tanned skin like a black embrace.
"Wow," I breathe, getting up on my knees so I can touch him as he stands next to the bed.
"Like what you're seeing?" he asks.
I nod. "Yes."
I run my fingertips across his buff arm and shoulder, tracing the lines of the tattoo. It's the hottest thing I have ever seen.
"Does it have a meaning?" I ask without taking my eyes off of his perfect chest.
"Yes," he says. "It means that I like to alter my body."
I look up at him quizzically. He is smiling.
"It means that I like to mark my body with the darkness that rests within me," he explains. "Just as you like the marks that the rope leaves on your delicate skin."
I look down on my arms, catching the visible imprints around my wrists with my eyes. He is right. I cherish them.
I blush as I remember the day we met.
"I noticed the tattoo on your neck at the party," I admit. "It made me curious about you."
He leans forward and puts my face in his hands before planting a kiss on my lips.
"Good girl," he whispers.
I flinch in surprise when he grabs a fist full of my hair at the back of my head and pulls my head up so I am forced to stare up at him.
"Now," he whispers, looking down at me with a dark promise in his eyes. "Go and get what you want."
I look up at him, my eyes wide with incomprehension until he takes my hand and places it on his belt buckle.
"Go ahead," he encourages.
"Yes, Master," I whisper and clumsily start to fiddle with his belt. I can feel his erection pressing hard against the fabric below and am careful not hurt him when I open his pants to free him.
The smile on his face widens when I pull down his boxer briefs and wrap my hand around his rock hard cock. Holding him like this is so empowering, especially when I see his eyes flicker as I start to stroke his erection.
"Open your mouth," he orders and I comply.
He straightens up and pushes my head down and forward to ram himself inside my throat with one brute shove, causing me to gag. He is so huge and rock hard, still not fully recovered from the anticipation that must have fueled him earlier.
"You had your turn," he says as he begins fucking my face. "This one is for me."
I am glad he doesn't ask for any kind of reply because it would be impossible for me to speak right now. His grip around my hair tightens, and he continues to push himself in and out of my throat with his hard length.
"No teeth!" he warns and I try my best to pleasure him with what little control I have over the situation. My tongue glides along his shaft in desperate attempts to accommodate him as good as possible while he fucks my throat relentlessly.
I am spitting saliva and desperately gasping for air by the time he is done with me. Tears are running down my face as I cough for air.
He tilts my head back so that I am forced to look up at him.
"Do you still want me to fuck you?" he asks.
"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, please, Master."
"Is it safe to fuck you bare?"
I hesitate for a moment, still gasping for air while saliva and tears are ruining my efforts from earlier when I dolled myself up for him.
"Yes," I reply.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I had a depo shot last month," I reply, accompanied by coughing.
He leans down and plants a quick kiss on my lips. "Turn around."
I do as I am told and place myself with my behind facing to him. He grabs me by the hips and lifts me up to position my body the way he needs it.
"This will be fast," he promises as I can feel the tip of his cock teasing my entrance.
I lean into him, inviting him in and pushes himself forward, filling me with his entire length in one deep shove. I am so wet and ready for him that he glides inside easily, providing me with that pleasurable feeling of being spread apart by his impressive girth.
I moan and get down on my elbows to increase the sensation while he starts fucking me. He is still holding me by the hips, ramming in and out of me with candid passion, not holding back one bit.
This one may be for him, but he never said anything about me not being allowed to enjoy it just as much. I lean on my right elbow while my left hand wanders between my legs to find my throbbing clit.
"No!" he shouts, leaning forward and grabbing my wrist. He shoves into me with one brute thrust until his pelvis is pushing against my behind and moves my hand away from my center.
I yelp when he grabs me by the neck and pushes me down until my face is pushed into the sheets. The collar cuts deep into the flesh of my neck, choking me just enough to cause a slight vertigo.
"This one is for me," he reminds me, leaning forward so that he is hovering above me, whispering right behind my ear. "Understand?"
"Yes, Master," I utter, suffocated by the bed sheet.
I can feel his buff chest pressing into my slim back as he tightens his grip on my neck and shifts, moving his massive cock inside of me while his other hand wanders between my legs to continue what I intended to do before.
A desperate moan escapes my lips when he massages my clit. My muscles clench around him, begging for release.
"Mine," he hisses. "All mine."
I groan with pleasure, ignoring the deeper meaning behind his words. Right now the thought of belonging to him only adds to my arousal.
I want to be his. His girl, his sub, his toy, his possession.
"Use me," I hear myself whisper. "Please, use me, Master."
"Good girl," he breathes, sending another warm tickle through my body. He keeps playing with my swollen nub and continues to fuck me, thrusting in and out with brute and deep motions.
I feel like I am shattering into pieces.
I am going to be sore from all of this. I am going to feel every single thing he did to me today. There will be reminders. Marks on my body and the comforting sting of soreness after a truly good fuck.
Tears. I don't know where they are coming from, but they dampen the sheet beneath my face while I cry out in desperation.
I can feel him pulsating inside of as he finds his release and it sends me over the edge. There is no time to announce my own climax before it is tearing me apart. My muscles clench around him uncontrollably while I am smothered by my own orgasm.
I had no idea how much I needed this.
Chapter 8
LEONARD
I leave her room a lot later than planned. At least she was in such a daze after our latest play that she didn't protest the leash as much as I expected her to.
She may be coming around a lot faster than I thought she would, but I still feel safer when she is chained to the bed and out of reach of any trouble.
Just as I feared, there are plenty of missed calls waiting for me as I arrive at my office downstairs. Will has tried to call me about a dozen times, though I am pretty sure that whatever he wants of me right now cannot be urgent. Or so I hope.
Will is blissfully unaware of the danger that comes with the deal we are working on together. I almost envy him for being so blind to the evil that no one but me can save him from.
But there is a lingering worry when I pick up the phone to call him back.
"Leonard!" he exclaims. "That took you long enough."
"I'm sorry, I was occupied," I excuse myself. "What's up? I hope this has nothing to do with our meeting this week? Clarence told me things were all settled with that."
"Oh, no, don't worry," Will replies. "It's nothing like that. Just wanted to give you a little heads up regarding our luncheon tomorrow, since you're the only one I haven't heard back from."
/> Fuck.
I forgot about that damn luncheon. Will told me about it more than two weeks ago; how the hell could I forget about it?
I am relieved and annoyed at the same time. No major threat, but a silly little get-together that will keep me away from home for hours.
Away from her.
I hate the thought of leaving Liz alone this early in the process, but I guess there is no other option, as social events like this one are crucial for me on many levels. I need to stay on Will's good side, and I especially cannot decline an invitation after already having said yes.
"Sure, I'll be there," I say. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. At noon, right?"
"That's okay, buddy," Will says. "Yes, at noon. Our place."
Buddy. What an unfit word.
"I will see you then."
~~~
When I told Liz that I would have to leave the house for a few hours, she looked at me with an expression that was as unreadable as always.
"To go where?" she wanted to know.
"That's none of your business."
She frowned at me but let it go. When I made a move to chain her to the hook next to the bed, as I always do when I leave her alone, she fell to her knees in front of me and begged me not to do it.
"Please, Master," she pleaded. "I promise to be good! All I want is to be able to use the bathroom while you are gone!"
I hesitated, but came to the conclusion that I could trust her, so I left her without the leash attached to her collar. There is not much for her to do anyways. She cannot open the windows or the door and even screaming will not bring her far in this isolated location.
I should be okay.
She said she was tired because she couldn't sleep well at night and would take a nap while I was gone.
"To make the time pass faster," she whispered, smiling at me like an innocent school girl. I am not sure how sincere that statement is, but I don't let my doubts stop me from granting her with a little trust.
By now, I am sure that she doesn't hate me or her situation enough to endanger herself to get out of it.
Yet, a feeling of uneasiness accompanies me when I leave the house. My mansion is secluded from everyone else in this neighborhood. The windows of Liz's room cannot be seen from the driveway as the room faces the back of the house, revealing nothing but forest and an empty valley. Even if she can to get to her window, it is very unlikely that anyone would see her or hear her screaming.