Dark Master (Dark Masters Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  He stiffened, brushing my hand aside. “I’m trying to watch this.”

  I stilled. What an odd reaction. I had yet to give him oral sex and he hadn’t brought it up at all. The first time I asked, he’d told me no as well.

  I rose onto my elbows to see his face. “Why not?”

  He stared intently at the television. “Times like this I wish you’d just behave.” His head tilted and his dark unfathomable eyes bored into mine. “I’m not into getting my dick sucked. Do not ask me why,” he ground out, when I opened my mouth to do so. His breath whooshed out in a panicked hot rush. He sat up in bed, pulling himself away from me. “Watch the fucking movie.”

  What was his deal? His fear and unease was a thick cloud over his body. It was the same way he’d felt the night he told me about his secret. I closed my eyes in misery. “Did he do that to you?” I whispered, keeping my eyes closed for his answer. “The man who abused you?”

  I heard his hard swallow and suddenly didn’t want an answer. I opened my eyes and fixed my face. If I gave him pity, he would only use it to hurt us both. I patted the space beside me. “Okay, then, baby. No oral. I wasn’t done kissing your neck. Come back.”

  His gaze fell across me, leery and yet at the same time, yearning. Did he yearn for comfort? Jaxon wasn’t the kind of man who asked for good, because he didn’t think he deserved it. I swallowed my tears and fought to keep them down.

  “Let me hold you.”

  His eyes slid shut and his breath exhaled. He slid back down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me back into place so my face was in his neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, burying his face in my hair as the movie reached a crescendo behind us. There were explosions and screams, but between us, there was closeness and love.

  I held him to me, running my fingers up and down his back for hours, long after he’d picked a second movie to watch. I kissed him all over, leaving a hickey on his neck and over his nipple. He would groan and shift his hips occasionally, relieving the pressure of his hard cock, as I sucked on his dark nipples or nipped at them the way he did mine.

  “Make love to me,” I whispered into his ear.

  He shuddered. He didn’t say yes or no. He turned his head to the side and captured my lips, moving to press my body into the mattress. I ground my sex against the mound of his erection, wanting some friction after the hours of teasing. He smelled divine, like skin and soap, and his body weight was so encompassing I felt safe and desired. I ran my hands down his back and pushed his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

  He slipped his hand between my legs and pulled my shorts down my thighs and dropped them over the side of the bed.

  He eased his delicious cock inside of me slowly, the heat of his skin and the hardness of his flesh easing my hungry parts. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he rocked his hips into me roughly, his deep kiss a constant source of sensation.

  There was nothing forceful about this. It was a slow, deep pull. My belly burned with heat and he increased his hips, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and bringing me close.

  “I’m going to come,” I mewled.

  He groaned when my wetness turned him slick. “That’s right, baby. Come all over Master’s cock.” His deep smooth voice urged me on in my ear, creating an easy trembling orgasm to fall into.

  He followed me, sending his cock into me deeply. His end was fire, filling me to the brim. I loved the idea of being so bare, skin to skin, end to end. I held him to me as he groaned out his orgasm, his hips stilling as his muscles tightened on top of me.

  “My Miya,” he cried out, shoving his face into my neck.

  “My Jaxon,” I moaned back, his thickness and length nestled right against my g-spot so little shivers traveled through me.

  I hugged him as he cried. The more of his heart I touched, the more it seemed to break. I rubbed his back and hair, rocking us until he calmed enough to sleep, his cock still nestled inside of me.

  When we woke, we’d shifted. I was lying tucked in his arms, my ass pressed firmly against his groin, his arm wrapped around my cami-covered tits. He gripped me so forcefully, I was only able to pull in shallow breaths.

  He moaned when I moved, and before I knew it, he had me on my back again and his cock was buried deep inside of me. We made love the same way, this slow deep rock of hips and low moans of ecstasy. It was so transformative, to be this emotionally and sexually close to another person. Every orgasm felt a lot like love, and every end felt like a new beginning.

  We made love five more times before I physically couldn’t take it anymore. He’d only let me out of bed to pee once and followed me to pull me back when I begged to brush my teeth. Another day and night passed, sending me into a whirlpool of sex, Jaxon, and love.

  “I can’t, not again.” I fought his lips, shoving at his shoulders.

  He was like a fiend, his tongue begging for entry, sliding over my teeth. His fingers slipping inside of my wet tender sex.

  “Jaxon,” I whined, clamping my thighs shut and pulling his hand free. “No.”

  “Let me taste it at least.” He urged my thighs open, his tongue already out.

  I sighed. It was early evening. The sun had been more gold today and the snow had let up enough for it to not be below freezing. He slid his tongue between my damp folds, dark eyes glittering as he got his fix.

  “You’re an addict through and through.”

  He chuckled against my clit. “Your pussy is incredible, what can I say? The feel, the fucking tightness of it. It’s like I’m fucking a wet pink vacuum whenever I’m inside of you.” He delved into my hole, pushing my thighs open and pulling one more exhausting orgasm from me.

  “That’s it and I mean it.” I scrambled off the bed, weak-kneed and starving. “I need food. Water. Air.”

  He was on me before I could get into the bathroom. “I only need you.”

  “Ugh.” I shrugged him off. “You’re so clingy.”

  He laughed richly, grabbing my arm and pulling me against his chest. He cradled my face and gazed down at me, his eyes so dark and lovely. “Let’s go change your address. Your driver’s license. Your fucking birth certificate.”

  “You’re pretty old, but you’re not that old.” But I totally fell for it, my body falling against his. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He grinned, and this close, it was nothing but dark beauty. “We’ll shower together and then go get some food. Tell me you understand, my Miya.”

  “I understand, Master.” I understood everything.

  He picked a seafood restaurant past Downtown and in a neighborhood. It was closer to Pyper’s neighborhood than I liked, and I assumed that’s why he picked it. He knew it. And since Jaxon rarely knew anything enough to want it, I didn’t mention it.

  The smell of frying oysters permeated the air and the atmosphere was homey, honest food. His eyes flitted from his menu to my face, and his feet trapped mine between his; he slid the toe of his boot up and down my calf, never letting contact go for long.

  Which was fine, until I had to go to the bathroom.

  He got up to follow.

  “Jaxon,” I said measuredly, shoving his shoulder down. “You will stay here. I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Sixty seconds,” he allowed.

  Why was he being so attached? I wondered, unnerved as I peed and washed my hands. He sighed in relief when I sat back down, picking back up with his conversation about work and the university.

  “I can reenroll. Specialize in a different branch of medicine? I’m still a physician. I don’t need eight more years if I switch my area of expertise.”

  He was so … odd. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he wasn’t himself. He was mixing “normal” with attachment and it wasn’t sitting right with me. But having no real proof that he wasn’t being himself, I simply nodded, giving him a small smile. “What were you thinking? A PHD in Spankology?”

  He cracked a crooked smile, wiping his fingers off on a napkin. “I already have a long
career in that field. I was thinking something a little more hands-on, less emotional. Or even likeminded individuals, if I must keep my particular degree in mind. Kline’s hinted more than once at applying for a job at the jail. They could use a psychiatrist at the police department.”

  His comment irked me. “Likeminded? So you’re just like a criminal? What offensive law have you broken to make you one?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Miya.”

  “Have you been arrested since you were seventeen?” He shook his head. “Well, considering how much pain you were in, I think that’s pretty damn good. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

  His lips twitched, but his eyes saddened. “My sweet girl. You see the good even when there is none. It’s one of the most beautiful things about you.” His throat bobbed. “I want to bury myself inside of you right fucking now.”

  I gasped, looking around helplessly for anyone to have heard. We weren’t in a car on the highway with a trucker in sight. There were families around. Kids. It was one thing to play with the dark, it wasn’t fair to ask anyone else.

  Thankfully, no one seemed to have heard his seedy demand. “Listen, Romeo, cool it. You’re like a freaking dog with a bone.”

  A gleam entered his eyes. “I’m not really into pet/play.”

  I refused to react, snapping my lips closed. Which only seemed to amuse him more. He chuckled, his feet tightening around mine under the table. “Is that really a thing?”

  “Pet/play? Isn’t everything a thing?” He sat back, his eyes flitting over my shoulder. Something soft entered his eyes and his lips lifted indulgently.

  I looked over to spot a little boy shoving fries into his mouth like a machine, his eyes wide with humor as his mother tried desperately to stop him. He shoved fries into his mouth faster, making everyone in the restaurant laugh.

  “Ned, no,” his mother begged helplessly, throwing her hands up in defeat and casting an I’m exhausted, please don’t judge me, what can I say, you try raising kids look around the room with her blush deep red in her cheeks. “Well, at least drink some water. You’ll turn into a potato.”

  The boy cracked up, spewing soggy fries all over the table top and guffawing with the abandonment of a child.

  Jaxon and I both hid our faces from the mother, laughing quietly.

  “Kids,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

  “I don’t have much experience with them.” I sipped on the end of my cola, too full to eat another oyster.

  “Kids? You should meet Kline’s kids. They’re slight maniacs.” But he smiled, and it was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen on his face. Gentle, loving—the man in him was still breathing around his monster’s claws. “They’re really quite entertaining.”

  I put my chin in my hand, my own lips smiling back. “How old are they?”

  “Four and three. Kay and Rebecca. Boy and girl.”

  “You love them,” I surmised, wanting to kiss his gentle smile.

  “‘Course,” he said offhandedly. “What’s not to love?” He cleared his throat. “I’m worried the divorce is going to be the tipping stone for them, though. They’re fragile children. Sheltered. Kline’s all too aware of my past and Sally’s, and he sees a lot of messed up shit being a cop, so he’s done his best to keep them sealed tight and safe. I love my brother for that. He smiles around them even when his world is falling apart. That’s what a parent should be. A shield between bad. Not a fucking sieve like mine.”

  I looked down, collecting my sadness before returning to him. “When’s the last time you saw your mother?”

  “I spent New Year’s with her. The first of January. I’m in for a visit soon, I suppose.” He didn’t sound happy about it. “I spend as many holidays as I can with her, except Christmas and Thanksgiving. Pyper gets those days, and she’d want an explanation eventually why I always go somewhere else on Mother’s Day.”

  My heart ached. “She doesn’t know you visit your mother?”

  “No, Miya.” He blanched. “She doesn’t. She’d have both our heads.”

  “Why? She’s your mother.”

  “Pyper hates her. She hated her before I was born for what she did to my father. Apparently, my biological father, Pyper’s brother, was madly in love with my mother. Would do anything for her. Mom didn’t feel the same way, I guess. Mom’s … broken too.” He sighed sadly. “Her past isn’t much different from yours, baby. But she wasn’t strong like you. She didn’t have the strength you have. She just gave up as a kid and she never got it back.”

  Tears burned in my eyes.

  “After Mom found out she was pregnant with me, she took off. Maybe she was scared, I don’t know. Pyper didn’t know she was pregnant, my father either. And since his happiness was tied up into her, he lost his way. Drank, drugs—he killed himself in his trailer by cramming a cocktail of dope into his veins. Left a note. I’ve never asked to see it.” His breathing deepened, and his eyes were seeping his unbearably deep torment. “When I went to live with Pyper, she forbade me from seeing my mother. Sold her case pretty well, all things considered. I agreed. I didn’t want to see her anyway as a kid. I was pissed, Miya, so fucking unbelievably pissed at her for turning her back to that shit. How could she do that?” he hissed under his breath.

  I shook my head sadly. “I don’t know, baby.”

  He cleared his throat, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t look for her until I was eighteen. Vega helped me find her. I’ve been visiting her every month ever since. Nothing’s repaired between us, and it probably never will be, but we have a relationship. And I need that. I need my mother,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Somehow, someway, she’s got to be there. I don’t know what I’d do if—”

  I reached across the table and took his hands. He clung to me, weaving our fingers together. “You should go see her. February’s almost over. I’m sure she misses you.”

  “It’s been a hard winter.” He looked out the window at the day-old snow. “I should go buy her a new coat.”

  My throat was burning. I couldn’t cry. He’d never keep talking if I did. “Something pretty.”

  He met my eyes, so open and bared my heart splintered. “Will you come with me? Meet my mother?” In his pain, his lips smiled still.

  Jaxon was strong, too. Unbelievably strong and resilient. I was honored to know him, to love him.

  “You want me to meet her?” I gaped at him.

  “There might be less damage afterward if you’re there with me. I might even enjoy it.”

  I couldn’t help it. A tear escaped. “Yes, of course I’ll come. Right now?”

  “It’s easier to find her at night anyway. Let’s go change your address and then we’ll go pick up some things and go find her. Give the sun time to set.”

  At seven that night, we pulled into the outskirts of town on the edge of the Columbian River. The abandoned warehouses were eerie and empty. I could see the border of Vancouver, Washington across the river.

  “This is a meeting point for a lot of the homeless in town. It’s dangerous, so stay close.”

  I affixed myself to his side as we went down the wet dark alley for a warehouse in the back of the port. It smelled like wet metal and our shoes dug into the melting snow. Our breaths puffed out in front of us. The temperature close to the river was below freezing.

  “This one.” He led me over to a loading dock and we ducked between the raised garage.

  There was a tent city set up. A lot of tents and people milling around. Candles and a fire in the back corner in an old metal brewery pot lit up the wet place.

  “Your mother lives here?” I whispered, sad from deep in my soul for her.

  “That’s her tent over there.” He led me through the packed room. I avoided gazes, even though they didn’t seem shocked to see us. I thought that was because of Jaxon.

  “She ain’t in, son. Hasn’t been around all day.”

  Jaxon stopped, turning to a man lying on a blanket readin
g by candle light.

  He was reading Oliver Twist. The pages were torn and the cover was frayed, but the spine was bent down the middle, and I knew he’d read it at least a hundred times.

  “What’s up, Aaron?” Jax stooped, shaking the older man’s hand. “When’d you see her last?”

  “Oh, about two days ago. She got in a good nap and ain’t been back since. Who’s the babe?” His eyes were kind, dulling blue.

  “My bodyguard.”

  Aaron laughed.

  In a move that was almost indiscernible, Jaxon had money out of his pocket and into Aaron’s hand so quickly I barely saw a thing.

  “If you see her, tell her I’ll be at the park until midnight.”

  “Will do.”

  “Let’s go.” He gripped my hand tightly and led me out of the warehouse and back under the garage door, picking up his steps to his car. Once inside, he put the Lexus in drive and sped out of there, turning down the first corner. He drove to a long strip of houses that were rundown and creepy. “Stay in the car for this one. Lock the doors. I’ll only be a second. There’s a .45 in the glovebox. Push the safety off, point and shoot.” He opened his door.

  “A what?” I demanded, terrified of being alone. But if Jaxon didn’t want me inside, then there was a reason.

  He left without answering, jogging up the steps to a house. He knocked, and someone opened. He ducked inside without looking at me. I felt eyes on me in the dark. My heart pounded and I opened the glovebox to find a black handgun resting on a Lexus manual. I knew how to shoot. When I lived with Kolby and Mina, and he wasn’t high off his ass, he’d taught me how to shoot a few times in the backyard with his old Chevy as target practice.

  I’d contemplated more than once of getting his gun and bringing it to bed with me. When Gus slipped in, I’d blow his brains out. Shivering, I closed the glovebox and crossed my arms, my foot bouncing nervously.

  I heard a door close and my head whipped around to find Jaxon jogging down the steps. He unlocked the door with his keypad and slammed the locks once inside. He sped off, his jaw set once more.

  “Why do you have a gun?”