Fully.
Utterly.
As He had before.
Somehow He knew her so intimately, so perfectly, that it could perhaps be said He knew her better than herself. His hand rose up, slid over her eyes to cover them up. He blocked out all her sight, left nothing but inky black. Even when His hand moved away she could see not a thing. Feel not a thing. Nothing but Him, that was.
He released her and she seemed to feel herself float without the aid of her wings. Suspended in a void once more as she had so often been time and again.
His voice echoed around her…
“They tried to take you. Tried to turn you away from me. Tried to make you like them,” He hissed, and she could feel nothing, not even the brush of His words upon the air. “What do you say to their efforts, my pet?”
“There was no way,” she hissed into the nothingness, though she couldn’t feel the air travel up her throat, nor the vibrations of her voice. Even her mouth was suspended open, unable to move. “My Master’s madness cannot be expelled.”
As a fae she’d always gotten used to feeling so much, the essence of life always thrumming about her, keeping her safe and whole. And yet then there was nothing, no scent in the air, no touch along her bare skin. Simply his voice, filling her mind and rickashaying around.
Laughter filled the void, yet didn’t, it was just her mind. He sounded gleeful, proud of her even. That amusement so rich as He observed here even in the void.
“You came so willingly back to me,” He said, and she swore she could feel the faintest of brushes along her inner thigh. “Offered yourself to your tormentor. Your cruel torturer. Your owner. Why?” He asked, and she felt like He prodded into her very mind.
But she couldn’t be sure of the answer as she was held, suspended in the nothingness of the abyss.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she inwardly squirmed at the question, at the absence of sensation. It was so difficult to formulate thoughts, to find a way to articulate them properly. It was near impossible, in fact, filled with that aching emptiness.
Yet despite the horror of what she experienced, there was a familiar comfort in it as well. In His torture, she found peace.
“I am yours,” she finally gasped out.
She felt His lips press to hers out of the nothingness, a hard, passionate melding of their mouths in reward for her obedience. Her devotion.
Her eyes fluttered, those long curved lashes batted the air as sight returned to her as if a fog was clearing. Though she felt a curious sensation, as something cold and slick coiled about her wrists and ankles. It was a powerful grasp they took of her, and by the time her sight had come back in full, she was suspended over her Master’s bed, nude and helpless.
Her Master Himself rose up beside her and fondly petted her forehead and hair as the tendrils coiled up from the posts of the bed. His other hand slid down, over her chest and hips to stop at her mons.
“Did you let anyone but me touch you on your journey?” He asked in a smooth tone of voice.
Her body felt heavy as it was held up by her limbs, her body trembled with the sudden rush of sensation, her head tilted back as she watched him. Her skin felt as though it were freezing, the flesh prickling upwards and responding to his touch.
“Of course not,” she whimpered, squirming against the tendrils of inky black that held her aloft.
His ruby eyes locked on hers, as if He were reading the through in her mind and soul. He shut His eyes and leaned in, inhaled her scent down along her torso before a sudden rage seemed to fill him.
The human.
His scent still lingered upon her and it made her Master bristle.
“You stink of him!” he bit angrily, teeth gnashed as he grabbed hold of her tied form and shook her pale body.
She was thrown off balance by his anger, her body flailing limply as if the brief suspension into the void had caused her to forget how to move her muscles. How to resist the way her body flailed.
“But it was you,” Lhea protested dumbly, her gaze wide upon Him.
“That’s no excuse!” He seethed and around him the room seemed to shift and wobble. Then melt. As if the walls and ceiling dripped around her. It was maddening, the only solid thing was her Master. So firm and resolute, her visual anchor, keeping her from getting lost or becoming sick.
“You should have tempered my lusts! Not enflamed them!” He said as he grabbed a hold of her and pushed her down into… his bed? No, it was a pool of warm water. As if the room had melted and provided the substance beneath her.
Her Master held her beneath for a while, forced her to adapt to the breathlessness.
She squirmed and writhed, but there was no release. She knew that he would always wait for her to pass that brink, to find the end of her rope and then keep her under a little longer.
Yet knowing that did nothing to still her terror, nor calm her body from its natural thrashing and desperate attempts to suck air into her, finding nothing but murky water. Her wings fluttered, never reaching the bottom of the pool.
Then, all at once, he pulled her up again to gasp and pant in the twisting air.
“You need to be cleaned,” he hissed.
She couldn’t do a thing to protest, her wet hair dripping along her face. Her skin looked a bit dewy and mad beneath the melting, spinning lights and walls of the room, everything constantly spinning and changing, it kept her disoriented.
“Yes?” she partially agreed as she sputtered out water from her lungs.
Her Master pushed her back under, held her there as she felt His hands move over her. Too many hands; it made no sense! But then, that was her Master’s world. It was insane. Dark tendrils licked at her fair skin beneath the water, laved her body, wrapped about her limbs to clean away every last trace of the human’s foul taint.
She could even feel those slick tendrils curl up inside of her, prod into her pink little labia as He looked on from above, his handsome face distorted from the ripples.
She arched her back, blue eyes flickering open and watching him with such a frenzied gaze. Bubbles of air erupted from her mouth, breaking the surface with a whimper of protest.
Yet even in her panic, her absolute fright and terror, her legs spread for him, letting him free her of the taint of the other man. She was just as happy to be rid of it as he was, leaving her unsullied, and his alone.
That inky black tendril wriggled inside of her, though none of the human’s taint lingered there, and they both knew it. It filled her, just as another passed her pink lips and over her tongue, it wriggled on down into her throat and then… a strange thing happened. She ran out of air and was forced to gasp. That monstrous tentacle of her Master’s should have choked her, but instead it seemed to sate her need for air.
It was her Master could replace even that base need. As if food and air were no longer necessary things as long as she had Him.
Those two hands of his roamed over her petite form, scrubbed at her with some sort of rough soap, scouring the human’s leavings from her flesh, leaving her purely her Master’s when—
Another of those slick tendrils prodded between her pert little ass cheeks, and pressed into that tight, anal pucker of hers. Her Master would leave nothing untouched, and she arched her back.
Never had he taken her like that, defiled that untouched part of her body. She struggled against the powerful hold, but knew it to be no use. He had her so utterly, controlled every bit of her body and her mind.
She even relaxed into the invasion. Into that dark touch as it filled her, even as she silently screamed. There was such a contrast in her thoughts, that terror and delight always walking hand in hand, the fae so utterly corrupted.
Her Master’s hands moved over her sides, teased her pale pink nipples with the rough soap, and stimulated them with its coarse surface. He was merciless in his scrubbing, leaving her pale flesh raw wherever he went with that bar.
It wasn’t until every last inch of her, inside and out, was lef
t tingling and sore that He relented and pulled her back from the water. Those inky black tendrils slithered from her mouth first, and only slowly from her other orifices as He held her up.
“You’re clean again,” He hissed in relief, holding her wet body to Him.
She hugged herself to Him, her body was trembling and red, her pale flesh assaulted so as she clung to His form.
He was her tormentor, and her protector, and kisses lanced across His flesh, showering Him gratitude. For cleaning her. For finding her worthy. For taking her back.
“Thank you,” she said through her choked tears.
Her Master cradled her in His arms, kept her against His hard, lean chest. He carried her from that room, His hand petting her wet little body as the shadows coiled from Him. The long tendrils swirled and knitted together before they travelled up her arm and over her shoulder.
He placed her down upon a soft divan in an adjacent room, just as He watched the chain of tendrils coil about her neck and form a collar. The black magic left her leashed and collared to Him, and He gave an approving smile.
“My pet,” He hissed, that hand of His stroking along her cheek as He gazed down upon her. “You’ll never leave me again,” He stated, grasping tightly upon the other end of that magical chain.
She nuzzled into Him so affectionately, her body coiled about His as He pulled her towards him, her blue eyes so clear and filled with desire.
Desire no faerie should have.
Her hands worked around His body, tugging herself closer as she felt that magic entwine her to Him, keeping her safe and secure. He was terrifying, truly, but in one another they’d found something magical, beyond anything either of them realized they even wanted, let alone needed.
Her Master slid His hand down her jawline towards her chin, He teased her pink lower lip with His thumb, prodded and rubbed it as His other hand undid his trousers. The wry smile upon His face never did fade as He unleashed his stiffened organ. The real one. No longer the ungainly human member of before, it was just the real, ebon shaft, thick and throbbing, but undeniably His.
“Show your Master how much you care,” He declared in a commanding tone, walking His fingers back along her jawline to grasp her hair and pull her into Him.
Her lips parted, tongue pressed down along the lower row of her pearly white teeth, her eyes never leaving His.
Her emotions and desires couldn’t be faked. The way her pink nipples stiffened atop her small chest, and her head tilted back to finally take Him into her mouth. The prickle of His hard grasp in her hair sent shivers down her spine and set her alight.
She’d sacrificed so much to return to Him, and never for a moment did she regret it.
Not even as He took tight hold of her hair, and began to pump His girth in and out of her tiny, pink lips. Her Master so enthusiastically put her to use, making her mouth His playground.
“Every part of you is mine,” He intoned through his deep, satisfied moan. “Even your mouth is my little fucktoy, my pet.”
He made it true, pumped his shaft into her warm, wet maw as His dark balls slapped to her dainty chin. The water had yet to dry, and He was once more choking off her air supply with His enthusiasm for her. His endless need that manifested itself in His manic moods, His lust.
Her hands went to His hips, holding herself aloft as He used her body. He touched against the back of her throat, caused her to sputter up thick, sticky spit, coating the swollen tip of His cock, reddening her little cheeks.
She was such a delicate, innocent looking thing with His corruption washed from her, but He was intent on bringing back that taint to her flesh. Those signs of her total and absolute submission to Him.
Her tongue swiped underneath His cock, tasted His flavour as she made soft little sounds of pleasure against it.
His free hand grasped the black chain that linked her to Him, coiled it about His wrist twice over and started to use that to help tug her face in around His cock. All the while her warm, soft lips and tight, narrow throat elicited such delightful moans from Him. The sweet reward for her efforts.
He kept that rough pace up, savoured the sweet feel of her around His member as His dick throbbed and spurted its sticky precum.
He grew so intensely absorbed in the pleasures of her mouth, that His balls tightened, and He nearly lost Himself. Though He reigned it in, and pulled her lips back to the very tip of His shaft.
“Not yet,” He panted breathily.
She stilled at His wishes, her tongue retreated back within the confines of her mouth, her lower lip trembling a bit, the rest of her body shaking as well with her intense need. She needed His rewards, dreamt of them, and yearned so badly for more.
Yet she understood that it wasn’t her place to crave, to set the tempo. He controlled her.
“Yes, Master,” she breathed out softly.
He tugged at her collar, led her up from her seat to get onto her knees.
“Bend over my pet,” He instructed, getting her exactly where He wanted, her pert little rear stuck out in a prissy fashion. He stroked His hand upon that smooth, pale flesh, savoured its feel a while.
“I made you wait for our first time. I prepared you. Took my time. But now?” He punctuated the question with a smack of His palm upon her rear. “I am done with waiting, pet,” He growled, used her elevated position upon the divan to line His cock up directly with her pink little slit, so puffy and swollen from His earlier penetration, His teasing.
She pressed back, toward Him. For months He’d groomed her, made her into His.
There was no need to wait. His cuts had gone deep into her soul so that even magic couldn’t cure her of His touch.
Her throat was closed off just slightly by the tightness of the collar, an ever present reminder of her servitude as her glossy pussy was pressed against His cock.
Her Master didn’t allow that, and denied Himself the sweet release of her cunny just to punish her for her pretenses. Though as He’d said, his patience had run out, and He spared her naught but a moment.
A harsh slap upon her unmarked ass cheek, and then He thrust Himself into her, that thick, throbbing shaft filled up her tight little cunny and He was buried up to the very depths of her. The pain of being stretched so full by His girth was alleviated by the deep, satisfied moan of pleasure He gave from the sensation.
“Such a tight little receptacle you make for my seed, precious pet,” He cooed, keeping her leash taut as He pulled back His hips then thrust once more. The first of His motions eliciting another deep, satisfied moan of pleasure that only urged Him on to take another sweet stab at her. Then another.
Another.
She bobbed against Him, her little body jostled with each of the strikes, her pale flesh contrasted to His ashen darkness. Blonde hair was flicked back between her shoulder blades as her little moans peppered the air, mixing with His.
Faeries were tiny, and she was tinier still against His dark and powerful body, but her arousal tinged the air. Her pussy was red and swollen with need, spreading to accept His dark girth, the sight so lewd as she remained still and accepting.
Their duet of sounds filled the air, such rapturous music as her Master laid claim to her once more. He grew more and more tenacious, the more He had of her, the more He wanted. The tight squeeze of that little faerie cunt invigorated His desire even further, exacerbated His need.
His one hand grasped her hip tightly, helped hold her petite body in place as He savaged her little quim. Even though He was already so close to his end.
“You are mine,” He growled aloud. “My obedient pet, my porcelain fuck doll!”
He had captured her and tamed her, but she freed Him from his curse of loneliness. She needed to be controlled just as He needed to control, and her screams grew louder and louder, lilting and haunted as she praised His name in the only way she knew.
Her diaphanous wings beat atop her back, excitement reverberated through every part of her. He was the sweetest bliss and the gr
eatest agony, and her song spoke of all the things she hadn’t words for.
Her Master rewarded her for her obedience, for her unmitigated devotion, with the rough, unfettered expression of His desires. He thrust roughly into her, made her moist folds sing with the slap of His loins. And then…
He let loose such a deep, mighty roar of satisfaction as, at last, He reached His end.
He could no longer resist the sweet temptation of her fae flesh, and found Himself tumbling from desire into release. The thick gouts of his unholy seed flooded her depths in thick, long spurts, filled her loins to capacity as He tugged back on her leash and simultaneously bent over her.
A tremor ran through her as her Master met His end, her entire body crying out for Him. He was so strong, so powerful, and He pumped her innocent body full of His blessed seed.
“Master!” she pleaded, though she couldn’t say, for certain, what it was she wished for or craved. She simply knew that her soul was entangled with his, and never could they be separated. If that strong magic that had cleared His taint from her hadn’t forced Him from her heart, nothing could.
Spent at last, her Master wrapped her in His arms and pulled her to His chest. He breathed heavily, clutching her to Him as he rolled to the side and pulled her into His lap as He reclined upon the divan.
“I am not yet sated,” He hissed into her ear, brushing her damp hair out of the way of her neck. That inky black collar wrapped about her, but it made room for Him as He licked her soft, delicate skin.
“Do you give yourself to me to feed, my pet?” He asked.
She remembered that first time, the way His teeth had pierced her, and a shiver went through her spine. Even as she nodded so eagerly.
Her body was His, and the price she paid for Fillia’s freedom was small, for it gave her such a thrill, such enjoyment that she’d never known. It was as though, when his teeth pierced her skin, she was on the same plane as Him. As though she could see His eternal glory, spread out before her.
The sharp fangs should have caused her such unmerciful pain, but the sharp stab of those teeth pierced her flesh amid the overflow of all those emotions, all that pleasure. She was His. In ways nobody else — and certainly no fae! — could have understood.
Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 39