by Flite, Nora
I'm so close, so god damn close.
My insides were grasping at his swelling cock, locking him in place. But I wasn't strong enough to hold him. Tensing, the pressure mounting to a peak, I groaned openly while the orgasm took control.
Inside, I felt him thickening. Above, his breathing was heavy with exertion. He's going to come, too! Realizing how near his release was, my desire soared. Is he going to do it inside of me?
He hadn't before, but it would be hard for him to pull out in time.
Roiling with anticipation, hot with a taboo desire, I wrapped my thighs around his lower back. If he'd debated yanking free, my position made it impossible.
Burying himself to the hilt, Seth grunted into the crook of my neck. His skin was white-fire, his cock thickening.
Rivulets of his essence poured inside my hungry pussy. It set me off again, the orgasm slamming into me, stealing my breath. Each muscle was a single spasm that never seemed to end.
What gift did this man have, that he could always give me such pure bliss?
Together we laid there, panting on the soaked floor.
Lifting his head, Seth watched me, a finger trailing my collar bone. “Did you mean for me to finish inside of you?”
My grin was sly. “In the heat of everything, it just felt right.”
Wrinkling his brow, Seth chuckled. “You really do love risks.”
I couldn't deny that. Everything that had drawn me to Seth had been risky.
“When you agreed to be mine,” he asked. “You meant that?”
His question stunned me. How could he even wonder about my sincerity?
Crushing my lips to his for a short second, I snuggled closer. “Of course I meant it. I meant every word. I'm yours, Seth. Master Onyx. Whatever you want me to call you, I don't care. I... I love you,” I admitted.
Seth froze, his stare unmoving, targeting me.
My face went tomato red. Why did I say that? What if he doesn't...
Those thoughts became ash as he rolled me on top of him, still buried deep inside of me. His kiss could have stolen the last breath from my lungs, left me a husk, and I wouldn’t have minded. “Naomi, I love you, too. I never thought I would say those words, but I mean them.”
Radiant, I said no more, only wanting to taste his mouth. The mouth that had been both cruel and kind, the mouth that had banished me...
The mouth that had brought me home.
I'm his. Truly his.
I desired nothing more.
- Chapter Eighteen -
Seth
I stood in the shadows, my hands folded at my waist.
Though I'd watched many slaves get collared, I'd never performed the act myself. There were candles on stands, gentle music, and people lined up in rows patiently. It reminded me of a twisted wedding, but that imagery had me smiling.
“I still don't know why you're doing this,” Helm whispered beside me. “I've never seen you collar anyone. Why now, and why her, of all people?”
His bitterness wasn't surprising. Helm had a taste for rebellion, and I knew he'd seen the same fire in Naomi that I had. Unlike me, though, he wanted to snuff her flames out. Few Masters were as fierce as him.
I'd have banned him from my club, but the girls never complained. If they didn't mind has rough touch, who was I to judge?
No, I mused, thinking about how forceful I'd been with Naomi. I have no place judging him. I'm not much better.
The broad man was watching me, his mouth curled. He wanted a response. Sighing, I smoothed the front of my outfit. I was wearing a silver vest, the tie an emerald green over my charcoal shirt.
It was as close as I would come to embracing the real me, and my Master persona, in one setting.
“Why am I doing this?” I asked, tasting the question. “I suppose she left an impression on me.” Shooting him a sly smile, I chuckled. “Are you hoping to change my mind, buy her from me in a grand gesture?”
Scowling, Helm walked away. “She's all yours.”
Yes.
She was.
The room was packed. Masters stood against the walls, every pair of eyes focused on the curtains. They wanted to watch the ceremony, either nostalgic for when they'd claimed their own girls, or eager for the opportunity to get their own later.
Slaves, kneeling in quietly, were thinking of similar things; the time they'd been collared, bought by a Master so they knew where they belonged.
The uncollared girls were envious, wishing for such a gift.
A hush sank across the gathering. Expectantly, I watched the curtains. At first, nothing happened. The excitement was palatable, made worse as the moment stretched.
What is she doing? Did she get cold feet?
No. I knew how much she wanted this.
Finally, Naomi appeared.
Everyone else would recognize her as Opal. But, for me, she would always be Naomi. We'd lifted away our secrets, revealed to each other who we really were.
In more ways than one.
Naomi was wearing a long, flowing black dress that clung to every delicious curve. It rolled down her arms and over her hands like long gloves. The fabric hid all of her skin, save for her head...
And her elegant throat.
In her white mask, she turned my way. The smile she flashed me was genuine. Hell, I don't think she could hold it back.
This was what she craved. It's funny, I thought. I banished her for trying to force me into doing this.
Now, it was hard to picture my future without this woman.
She swayed my way, hips kicking with flirtatious desire. Instantly, reminded of how her ass felt in my hands, my cock thickened in my briefs. Damn tease. “Opal,” I said, once she was within a few feet of me. “You understand what is about to happen to you?”
Holding her chin up, she looked regal—then she wavered. I could tell what was wrong; she wanted to be proud of this moment. However, acting cocky wasn't ideal for a submissive.
Hanging her head, she said softly, “Yes, Master. I understand entirely.”
Nodding, I turned towards Helm. He handed me a small box, the cherry-wood shining in the candles. It was beautiful, but it would pale when compared to the contents.
Taking it from him, I opened the cover slowly. Inside, white pearls, opals, and diamonds glimmered in beautiful serenity. There were a few murmurs in the crowd, and I heard Naomi muffle a gasp.
The collar cost a fortune. Anyone could see that.
It would glimmer like a chandelier in the sun., drawing every eye around. I wanted the world to see this woman was wearing my mark. For them to take one look at the expensive piece and understand that she was worthy of such a gift.
Honestly, she was worth far more.
“Kneel,” I said firmly. Naomi bent down, folding with the agility I'd seen in her when she painted. Amazement still glowed in her eyes. She'd expected something subtle, easy to hide.
I would never let her hide.
Lowering the collar, I swept her hair aside. The metal wrapped around her pale skin, the lock clicking loudly—pointedly—into place. It wasn't impossible to remove, but I had the only key. Naomi would always wear it, unless I said otherwise.
I didn't imagine myself every letting her take it off.
My fingers brushed her ear, then cupped her chin. In the shadows, her eyes were imploring. “You now belong to me. Only me. Body, mind, and soul... you are mine.”
She trembled; it went through her whole body. “I'm yours. Forever and always.”
Her swaying curves had gotten me hard earlier. The words she spoke now... well.
Nothing had ever turned me on so much.
Smiling, I helped Naomi to her feet. Bending near, I whispered, “The collar looks very fitting on you.”
Around us, people clapped. It was a polite noise, reverent. Under the buzzing hum, Naomi took a quick breath. “Can I tell you something secret?” she asked softly, so no one could hear.
“Yes. Always.”
She reached up, brushing the expensive surface of the collar. “Nothing has ever felt so right.”
My heart thumped, and I went silent. She means that.
How had I gone so long, avoiding a moment like this? What had made me run from collaring a slave?
Staring over Naomi, taking in her proud smile, her glittering eyes... I realized what had held me back.
None of the others were like her.
Naomi was special; more so than I'd even guessed.
I'd fought the urge to claim my own sub until now, because none of them had been right for me.
I loved this woman.
God, I actually loved her.
Reaching down, I clasped her hand. It wasn't a normal gesture for a Dom, and I sensed how she stood straighter at the touch. But I didn't fucking care. Not anymore.
Even if this whole club crumbled... if my world was ruined, my secrets exposed...
I had Naomi.
And that was all I would ever need.
- Epilogue -
Naomi
I set the last of my things inside the cardboard box, hoisting it in my arms tightly. Seth had told me he'd send people to help me move, but I'd insisted I could do it myself.
I own so little, it only took me a few hours to pack.
Kicking my door open, I caught my reflection in the window. The image made me halt.
Even in the foggy surface, the glittering, jeweled collar was magnificent. The day Seth had locked it on me... it was one I'd never forget.
But, if I had, this over the top symbol of possession would remind me.
I'd explored it once I was alone. The smooth stones felt good under my fingers. The clasp was securely locked, a thing that thrilled me in a funny way. Seth owned me, and even if strangers didn't quite understand what that meant, they still had a suspicion when we strolled around together.
Perhaps they thought it was a gift from a husband to his wife.
Or that Seth is a sugar daddy.
Snorting, I carried the container down my steps. I was planning to bring it to the front, for when Corbin arrived. Out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention.
The flag for my mailbox was up.
I thought I changed my address already?
Setting down the square burden, I opened the tiny metal door. A collection of papers spun to the ground. Groaning, I bent to gather them up, shaking my head in irritation. I won't have to deal with this anymore at Seth's place. Corbin probably brings the mail to him by hand.
Thinking about the fact that Seth had asked me to move in with him made me smile. It had been an offer I couldn't turn down.
Besides, in a way, I'd been mostly living in his mansion for some time already.
Of course, I don't look forward to explaining this to Mom. She'd think I was nuts, or maybe she'd get a bit of greed in her once she heard how rich Seth Hart was.
Rolling my eyes, I straightened out the pile. It looked like everything was junk.
Everything but one envelope.
It had that official sort of crispness. I recognized the name on it instantly.
Dropping everything, not caring where it fluttered, I tore the envelope open. With shaking fingers, I unfolded the paper, reading the familiar words. Only, this time, what was written at the very bottom was not some cold rejection.
Seth had been right. His letter would do the trick.
I'd been accepted to the California College of Art and Design.
****
The scent of paint was strong in my nose, my mind bent to my work. I didn't hear him, didn't sense him, until he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. Warm lips touched my neck, his chuckle muffling my pleased gasp.
“Seth,” I laughed, placing my paintbrush on the pallet. “You surprised me.”
“Don't I always?” he mused, spinning me so he could taste my lips. Falling into his touch, my brain melted like candy in the sun. Releasing me, he stepped back so I could see his pleased smile. “That painting is coming along nicely.”
I stared up at the wall. It was one of the many stretches of white in his home—my home—that I'd been eager to get to work on. “You like it?”
“I do, very much.” Reaching out, he pulled me against him so we could stand and view the mural in comfortable silence. “What does it mean, what's its story?”
I gazed over the scene wistfully. It was almost entirely black, curling like fog that consumed everything. There, in the very center, was a white bird flying proudly. On its chest was a golden heart.
It would have been easy to assume the darkness was chasing the bird, harming it, but I knew better.
In such a short time, Seth and I had become incredibly close. He'd been my boss, my secret lover, my enemy, and then my Master.
We'd fought...
We'd fucked.
There had been nothing that wasn't hot and wild between us, good or bad.
I'd wanted to capture the soul of our existence. I didn't think the painting did it true justice, but how did you capture such powerful emotions in a mural?
Still...
I'd tried.
“It's a story about love, and not fighting it when it comes calling,” I said pensively.
Seth nuzzled my cheek, stroking my throat around the collar until I whimpered. “So it's a story about us.”
“Yes,” I agreed, proud he'd understood. “It's a story about us.”
Pressing his lips to mine, Seth smiled around our kiss. The wall held me up, his shadow blocking out everything but the fire in his stare. “I'm looking forward to our next chapter, little jewel.”
“Yes,” I said softly, touching the collar I wore with pride. “I am, too.”
This wonderful man wanted a future with me. We didn't need masks. We didn't need secrets.
In this confusing world, no matter how broken or damaged...
No matter what monsters hid inside our minds...
We loved each other.
And that was enough.
THE END
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~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
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A USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite loves to write dark and filthy romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!) Her favorite bad boys are the ones with tattoos, the intense alpha types that make you sweat and beg for more!
Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she wants to share those stories with her audience.
Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially dirt, she's learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives her.
She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.
Not at the same time, of course.
Check out her website, www.NoraFlite.com
Also email her at [email protected] if you want to say hello! Hearing from fans is the best!
-Nora Flite
Also from Nora Flite:
Outlaw Road
Exposing the Bad Boy
Last of the Bad Boys
Only Pretend
For the Thrill
For the Fight
For the Bond
Hard Body Rock
Slow Body Rock
Flawed Body Rock
True Body Rock
Watch Me Fall
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