Her Master's Reckoning

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Her Master's Reckoning Page 4

by Lily White


  “By telling her she’s expected to train the next Courtesan?”

  “She’ll find that out eventually.”

  Anthony stared at me, disbelief rolling within the amber color of his eyes. I grinned in response, my mind still conjuring images of the hours I’d spent preparing Rebecca for what was to come. Her lips, full on the bottom, more defined on the top, those were a masterpiece shaped by a god whose one mission was to tempt and taunt the male gender. So expressive, they curved with every complaint, opened wide with every yelp of exquisite pain, narrowed with every rejection. She never had to speak for me to know her thoughts; her lips spoke to me without the need of a single word.

  In my fun, I’d left a pattern of thin pink lines across her ass; each strike intentional spaced so as not to cross another. She’d been swollen by then, practically dripping. Still, I continued the torture, driving her, working her, molding her into the most basic of creatures that one small touch would have shattered apart on an orgasm that was never delivered.

  While she’d writhed with need, I’d watched, and when I couldn’t take the pain of my own erection any longer, I’d let that mouth of hers suck me off.

  She never did get the relief she sought, and for that, she’d wake a beast this morning with fire behind the greenest of eyes, her claws unsheathed with the need to shred my body apart.

  Breaking the tense silence between Anthony and me, I admitted, “Rebecca is strongest when she’s angry. If I were to walk her through what was about to happen today, if I had satisfied her every desire and then walked her out to greet a monster, she wouldn’t move away, physically at least, but inside, she’d retreat. I need her to want to destroy something if for nothing else but her own release of pent up rage. Only then will she be able to face Christopher without fear of what he could do to her.”

  Taking a few seconds to consider my words, Anthony finally nodded in agreement. “At least you know her well enough to do that for her, Aiden. Based on what I saw last night, she’ll need as much strength and endurance as both of us.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REBECCA

  Perhaps I had made a mistake after all. Perhaps I should have regretted a man who so callously walks through his days without heart, without soul, without concern for anything but himself.

  Could I be blamed for my ignorance? Should I hate myself for falling in love?

  Every doubt I’d ever had about Aiden came rolling in like thunder as sunlight bled through an open window, the sheer curtains blowing softly in a morning breeze that whispered taunts and accusation. His laughter was still a phantom sound hanging within the bedroom, echoing off walls that had witnessed each strike, every degradation, every moment where he’d promised me ecstasy but only delivered darkness.

  This wasn’t the first morning I’d opened my eyes with fantasies of slicing a knife across his throat, and while blinking the haze of sleep from my weary eyes, I grit my teeth to know it wouldn’t be the last.

  Still, I sat up knowing he would come for me within the hour. I threw my legs over the bed and pushed my feet to the carpeted floor knowing he would expect to find me where I knew to wait for him.

  He loves me, I thought.

  Last night was simply another punishment.

  Addiction had never been so utterly destructive.

  Fuck him. I’d find a way to get even.

  My morning routine didn’t take long. Brush my teeth. Wash and dry my hair. Shave my legs. Thirty minutes had me kneeling in front of the door, far enough away so that when it swung open it didn’t hit my legs.

  Forehead to my knees, my back was a perfect arch, my hair a fall of silk over my spine, my arms extended and my fingers curled over the carpet. If I’d been a cat I would have used the thickness to sharpen my claws.

  The door opened ten minutes later, a soft swoosh as the bottom brushed over the floor, the movement of air feathering my hair where stray tendrils fell down over my shoulders.

  “Such obedience,” Aiden murmured. Crouching down in front of me, he cupped the sides of my face between his palms and directed it up so I would face him, my neck bent uncomfortably back. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  A smug grinned tugged at lips that had masterfully seduced me year after year. Cruel when they wanted to be, but so damn giving in moments where he used them to drive my body to a panicked frenzy.

  My eyes narrowed in answer to his question. I couldn’t help the reaction. Aiden was an expert at pushing me to a line between stubborn control and total insanity.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He tsked. “Your clipped tone tells me differently.” Pausing, he released my face to grasp my shoulders. Directing my body up, he watched me move into a position of bottom to feet, hands braced over bent knees, my shoulders rolling back as my spine straightened. Despite my anger, or as a result of it, my breasts were heavy with the need for touch, the peaks hard as he dragged his gaze across them.

  Sapphire blue eyes glimmering with a lethal danger I knew far too well. Nothing but expectation of obedience in a voice as soft as satin, as deep as a dark canyon that promised only heartache and pain. “Open your mouth.”

  I did as I was told without hesitation.

  Aiden leaned toward me, his heated stare holding my eyes as his mouth brushed mine, opening just enough so that his tongue could trace the shape of my bottom lip. A shiver overtook me, my heart threatening to tear through my chest as a gentle kiss turned violent. His fingers knotted in the back of my hair sending fire across my scalp, and as my head was dragged back to a point where it felt my neck would snap, Aiden tasted my moans of pleasure, of wanting, of desperation only he could force from my body.

  Breaking the kiss, he moved so that his freshly shaved cheek pressed against mine, his lips brushing my ear on a whisper that drove red-hot needles into my spine. “Are you ready to meet your competition?”

  “Yes,” I lied through clenched teeth.

  Vibration against my chest, his soft laughter. Teeth biting down on my earlobe. “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Very good.” Aiden was on his feet in the next second, his outstretched arm pulling me to mine. “Sit on the bed while I select your clothes.”

  He disappeared into the closet as I made my way to the bed, emerging a few minutes later with a black pin stripe pencil skirt, white button up shirt, and a push up bra that shoved my cleavage practically to the base of my neck. It didn’t escape my notice he’d neglected to include panties.

  After he tossed the clothes onto my lap, I fingered the expensive fabric. The choice was more suited to a boardroom than meeting a new Courtesan. “What is this?” I looked up at him in question.

  A passing glance, his words trailing behind him as he returned to the closet. “Your wardrobe for the day.” I’d already begun to pull them on when he emerged again carrying a pair of four inch stilettos, the thin heel glimmering metallic silver beneath the red sole and black leather straps.

  Fastening the skirt at my waist, I tucked the hem of my shirt and buttoned the cuffs at my wrist. Aiden moved to face me. After dropping the heels on the mattress just behind my body, he reached forward with deft fingers to unclasp the buttons of my top until the shirt fell open to reveal the fullness of my breasts beneath.

  “This bra was designed for my seduction, its designer having a picture of your tits in mind.” Eyes lifting so they met mine, he murmured, “It would be such a shame to hide such a lovely work of art beneath your shirt.”

  I would have pushed to my tiptoes, would have dared steal a kiss he hadn’t offered, if I weren’t so angry at that moment. “Why the formality, Master?” The title had been a verbal lashing spat with the razor edged fury I felt. It only made Aiden grin, gleaming satisfaction in his pristine expression.

  “Because with the Courtesan that is about to arrive, you’ll need an edge in order to have a chance to compete.”

  He could have slapped me and it would have hurt less.

  A mask of
professionalism in place, he spoke with calm sincerity. “I’ve heard wonderful things about this new one. I’m sure the moment you meet, you’ll understand that your place on the food chain has changed.” Leaning toward me, he cupped my cheek with such tenderness, it sent chills down my spine. “I hope you enjoy the dark room, Pet. Because that’s where you’ll be going.”

  Unable to prevent the tears that welled, hot and painful, I blinked. “Why not just sell me then? Get rid of me so you and your new toy can play?”

  His smile was pure menace weaved through with impossible seduction. It struck at my heart while teasing every feminine part of me. His fingertip tracing the line of my jaw, he asked, “Why would I give you up when I could gift you to the new Courtesan for fun? Come on, Pet, you know me better than that.”

  Ignoring my tears, his eyes were suddenly cold pools of blue entirely absent of emotion. “Put on your shoes. Our new guest should be here any moment.”

  Aiden stepped away, and although he’d appeared unaffected by the tears that continued to slip free despite my hatred of them, he voiced a soft reminder when leaning a shoulder against the doorframe leading into the hall. “I always have enjoyed the taste of your sorrow. Keep crying, Pet, it only makes me want to hurt you more.”

  Bastard.

  Blinking rapidly, I banished those tears, strapping the shoes on my feet as the last one fell silently to sink into the carpeted floor.

  Standing, I straightened the line of my skirt, my eyes lifting without even a hint of the sorrow Aiden loved so much. “I’m ready.”

  Aiden ran an appreciative gaze down my body, pausing over my breasts, my hips, the shape of my calves created by the tall stiletto heels, commenting with a wicked tongue. “I can see that.”

  His appreciation was gone a split second later, replaced by the cool tempered steel that existed just beneath the skin. “Let’s go.”

  Stepping forward to cross the room and through the door, I turned, the beat of my heels against wooden floors rhythmic. Aiden never bothered to glance back as he led me through a maze of halls I’d once found myself lost within but could now draw on a map. I knew the bones of this house as well as I knew Aiden’s moods, the years giving me a familiarity that was as comforting as it was beguiling.

  Although the myriad of corners turned, the doors passed, the expertly placed furniture intended to draw the eye to the grandeur of the home, would never change, I was beginning to doubt that its owner hadn’t become something else in the time I’d known him.

  Each step I took was weighted with that doubt, each heavy click of my heel a countdown to eventuality. My heart broke in response to that dead man’s beat, my body barely able to hold its weight by the time we reached the opulent foyer filled with gleaming, high end splendor that mocked me.

  Anthony was already seated on a small settee when we entered the room, his gaze meeting mine for only a second before it drifted to Aiden. Something unspoken passed between the two men, my fear of what they both knew but wouldn’t say aloud twisting the knife Aiden had earlier stabbed into my heart.

  The thought occurred to me that rather than meeting a new Courtesan as Aiden had claimed, if this moment wasn’t my introduction to a new Master instead.

  “I just got off the phone with Paul,” Anthony said, breaking the silence. “They pulled into the drive about a minute ago.”

  Paul’s name confirmed my fear.

  I was being sold.

  Nodding, Aiden stood to Anthony’s left, his hands sliding into his pockets as he studied the room and turned his attention to me. “You may want to stand against that far wall, Pet. We wouldn’t want you unsheathing your claws and shredding the eyes of your competition.”

  It took effort to drag air into my lungs, but rather than argue, I did as he said, lowering my gaze as was expected of me.

  The driveway leading to the house was long, but not so much that it should feel like hours passed as we waited. Still, time moved slowly, dread seeping into my bloodstream with slow, rancid drops.

  When knuckles finally rapped on the front door, the heavy knocks echoed like bullets through the foyer, ricocheting endlessly until finding their mark on a target buried in the deepest parts of my soul. Heart in my stomach, I held my breath, my eyes closing slowly only to reopen as Aiden greeted another Master.

  “Paul, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  Master Paul stepped into the foyer, the suit he normally wore absent. It was unsettling to see him in jeans stained with blood and a black T-shirt that clung to his physique to expertly reveal every ridge and dip of his muscles. Long brown hair swept back and tied with a thin leather strap at the nape of his neck, the sharp angles of Paul’s facial structure, the strong line of his nose, and the sun kissed bronze of his skin gave away his Native American ancestry.

  He wouldn’t be a horrible Master, I told myself, but even the thought broke another part inside me. It didn’t matter how many years I spent in the arms of another Master; my love for Aiden would never fade. For that alone, I hated the man now standing next to Paul, the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up to reveal corded forearms, his posture so formal and assured that it stole the breath from me each time he walked into a room.

  “You won’t be saying that after I bring this son of bitch inside. It took three of us just to get him into the van.”

  Dragging my attention from Aiden, my brows pulled together in confusion at Paul’s words.

  Aiden shook his head. “I hear tranquilizers are good for problems like that.”

  Laughing, Paul answered, “Now you tell me. You wouldn’t happen to have any around here, would you?”

  Extracting a hypodermic needle from his pocket, Aiden grinned. “As usual, I’m prepared for anything.”

  Accepting the needle, Paul’s stare drifted past Aiden’s shoulder to where I stood silently waiting. An odd expression, I believed I saw approval in chocolate brown eyes that were so dark it was next to impossible to differentiate the iris from the pupil. Sunlight streamed in through the doorway cutting shadows beneath cheekbones that were broad and set high. His face was truly gorgeous, but I wondered what lingered beneath his skin. He was a Master, after all.

  Wrenching his gaze from mine, his fingers clenched over the casing of the needle. “I’ll go get the Courtesan. But first I’ll pump him full of this.”

  Aiden didn’t bother to close the door behind Paul after he walked away, the foyer falling onto uncomfortable silence.

  One word lingered on the small breeze that blew in from outside.

  “Him?”

  I hadn’t intended to speak the word aloud, but it slipped from my tongue before I could contain it. Both Anthony and Aiden turned to look at me. Eyes averted so that I stared at Aiden’s shoes rather than the stoic expression on his face, I asked, “Since when do you train men?”

  Aiden didn’t answer immediately, instead walking toward me with a ground-eating stride, a powerful swagger that claimed the space around him. With a finger beneath my chin, he tipped my face up to his. “I don’t train men.”

  Our eyes locked. “Then why-“

  The question was drowned beneath the shouting of several men outside, my head turning right to stare out a window toward the nondescript white van parked in front of the stairs leading to the front door. Paul and two other men I didn’t recognize had slid open the side door and were struggling to contain whoever dwelled within the shadowed interior.

  Aiden’s eyes tracked the direction of my horrified gaze, his lips twitching with humor. Leaning closer to me so that his voice was only a sensual whisper, he took pleasure in telling me the truth of this new Courtesan. “Inside that van is Christopher, a Courtesan the Society has decided you will train in order to prove my claim that although your body is so apt to submit, there is the will inside you of a Master.”

  As his words filtered into my thoughts, caressing my understanding with nimble fingers, I watched three men - three Masters - drag a fourth man from the van, his hands and
legs bound with ropes, his mouth held open by a ball gag that prevented his teeth from snapping shut.

  Another whisper, too much pleasure taken in telling me about the competition I would face. “They had to ensure their bodies were protected from his teeth. The last woman who rode him almost lost a nipple when he tried to bite it off. I hear even the best plastic surgeons couldn’t repair all the damage.”

  My legs almost gave out beneath me to watch the man fight while bound, his large body, covered as it was in bruises, scars and fresh blood, giving three grown men a difficult time as they carried him toward the house.

  “So you have tired of me, after all,” I commented. “But chose to have me killed rather than just selling me.”

  The savage strength, the insanity I saw in Christopher, reminded me of another Master to whom Aiden had sold me once my initial training was complete. The same man who had put in an order for a strawberry blond. I almost died in that torture chamber, had watched women killed with such brutality that nightmares plagued me five years later.

  Fingertips gentle against the small of my back, “Stand tall, Rebecca. You wouldn’t want your first true Courtesan to see the fear that I can feel quaking through your body. Like a dog, he’ll never respect you if he senses terror.”

  Spine locked in place, I couldn’t help but take a step back when they dragged Christopher inside to dump him in the center of the foyer. The growl emanating from his chest was more animal than human, his limbs thrashing to escape his bindings, his head snapping left and then right to view every person in the room. Pure rage was his eyes, fire rimming the skin red. When his wild stare fell on me, I gasped to see the feral beast inside him.

  Beyond the dirt, the scars apparent on his chest and arms, the blood that slicked across bruised skin, the copper brown hair that was matted over his skull, he was an attractive man. With eyes the color of a Caribbean Sea and a facial structure that was regal, yet still so very strong, this man would have turned heads in any public setting before he’d been reduced to a monster.

  I was sure it was his looks that were the reason he was taken. Although, it wasn’t a sane Master who would have destroyed such an utterly beautiful toy.

 

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