He smiles. “Not used to being cherished?” he murmurs, leaving a lingering kiss on my lips.
I gasp when he’s completely inside me. He’s so big; I never expected it to feel like this, but the fullness of it actually makes me feel whole again.
“Yes,” I moan.
And then he thrusts.
Again and again.
Each time I moan, he goes a little faster. His eyes remain on me at all times, never looking away as he takes what belongs to him. I am not used to being stared at while being fucked. Not like this. Not as if he’s trying to find out who I am just by looking at me … as if he wishes to see into the depths of my soul.
It does something to me.
Warmth. Affection. The desire to protect.
His gaze creates feelings deep inside my heart, which I thought I’d buried long ago.
Forges a connection I didn’t know could possibly exist between a Master and his servant.
Turns us into something more than just Master and submissive.
Makes us sinful, fated lovers.
He fucks me until a loud groan escapes his mouth, and he pulses inside me, warm seed filling me. Three more thrusts and he slides out of me with ease, both our bodies drenched in sweat and passion.
He kisses me, on the lips and on the nose, while removing the condom and flinging it away. All the while, he keeps his gaze on me, almost as if he doesn’t want to look away. He looks at me as if he’s forcing himself to come to terms with his choice to claim me … To witness the unraveling of my world.
I am his. But am I truly? Or is there some part of me that, in this moment of pure lust and wantonness, reaches out for a time when I once belonged to no one but myself?
In his gaze, I find no answers, only questions that beg to be unlocked.
But am I brave enough to seek them out?
7
Marcus
She fell asleep in my arms last night.
I smelled her hair and ran my fingers through it.
I held her close, humming until her eyes fluttered closed.
I listened to her sounds as she breathed in and out.
And I felt the guilt eating away at me.
The moon came and went, but my guilt stayed. Tonight, I committed yet another atrocious sin.
I gave in to lust. I let her feed my desires. I shouldn’t have, but it’s too late to change what’s happened. Am I weak for not resisting? For giving her what she begged me to do?
Or was it right to give in to both our needs?
Regardless, I am not what she thinks I am.
Master or no master, I must do what’s right, even if she’ll hate me for it. I must stop this now… before it’s too late.
When morning arrives, I get up from the bed and go into the adjacent bathroom, washing my face to get rid of that morning slump. However, the face that gazes back at me horrifies me. Looking at myself in the mirror makes me want to slam the glass to bits.
Marcus Knight.
You are no man.
I used her. An innocent girl you proclaim to have saved, and you use her.
I fucking used her, and she didn’t even fight back.
Goddammit.
Of course, she didn’t fight back. She was trained not to. In fact, it’s in her nature to want to please me. That’s why she begged me, and that’s why I willingly gave up the fight … because she needed me.
But it was wrong, nonetheless.
I throw another splash of water on my face, but it doesn’t cool my temper.
How could I let this happen? I succumbed to my needs and her eager submission pushed me over the edge. My desire to give her what she needs has turned me into an animal.
What good is pulling her away from that monster when I use her all the same?
No matter how sweet or gentle I am, it will never be okay. Not as long as she sees me as her Master … which is the only thing I can never take away from her.
I step aside and look at her from a distance. Her body lies underneath a thin layer of sheets, her breasts barely covered, nipples peeking out. Still as naked and innocent as ever. And I defiled her.
I wish I could take myself out of the equation—that I could pull myself away from her—but I can’t. I knew it when I started this that it was the only outcome … that she would come to rely on me so much, she won’t be able to go on without me. She depends on me. My existence is the only thing that matters to her at this moment. And it will eat her alive if I leave.
So I must stay. I must keep her safe and do whatever I can to fix what can’t be fixed.
It’s an impossible task, but one I am more than willing to attempt.
It’s my responsibility. My duty.
My ultimate sin.
I sigh and walk out of the room, letting her sleep.
I wouldn’t dare crawl back in bed with her, even though it’s the single most haunting thought on my mind right now.
Instead, I make my way to the kitchen, grab a skillet and some butter, and start cooking.
***
Ava
The smell of fried bacon and eggs wakes me up. My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I wonder where I am. Memories of the night before come flooding back in, crashing into me like a wave.
Realizing what has happened, I sit up straight, my heart thumping in my throat, but when I turn my head, Master Marcus isn’t there.
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
Only when I look around do I notice I’m still in his room. Naked.
I throw the blanket off me and get up. A mirror in the back draws me in, and I look at myself. My body feels no different, but my mind and heart do. I feel invigorated. Renewed. Reborn. Like a butterfly finally able to spread its wings.
Last night, we became one, and I was able to please my Master with this fragile body of mine. Before, I always looked at myself with a hint of disgust. I was that worthless servant girl who could be traded in for anyone else. Now, I am his. He calls me beautiful. He calls me perfect. His words are more than just words … they affect me in a way I didn’t think was possible. They make me smile and make me want to see myself in this mirror the way he sees me when he looks at me with those longing eyes.
I breathe out another sigh, this time not of relief but of happiness.
And then I open the door and look outside. Nothing to see so I quickly run into the bathroom to freshen up, and then go to my own room to fetch some clothes. A new black dress with white lace and tights. As I put them on, the smell of bacon and eggs causes saliva to build up in my mouth, so I hurry to put on my shoes and make my way to the living room.
I wonder what’s going on and why I smell such delicious food.
The only time I ever smelled it was when I cooked it myself for my previous Master and then watched him eat it all.
Which is why I’m so surprised when I find Master Marcus sprinkling herbs over the eggs he just cooked as he places them on two plates. Not one. Two.
Do we have a guest?
He turns his head and smiles when he sees me. “Good morning, Ava.”
“Good morning, Master.” I nod. “Do you require any help? I can take over for you if you want.”
“No, no, sit down.” He points at a seat with his spatula.
“O-okay …” I hesitantly do as he says, still looking around for that guest who’s supposed to come and have breakfast with him.
Meanwhile, he brings the plates to the table along with the salt and pepper and places one of the plates, including a fork and knife, in front of me. I stare at it as he sits down across from me and starts cutting up his eggs.
My mouth is watering at the sight of all this scrumptious food, but I am baffled. Why would he give this to me?
“Why aren’t you eating?” he asks, lowering his knife.
“I … Isn’t this for a guest?” I ask.
“No, it’s for you,” he says as he takes a bite.
My eyes widen. “You … cooked for me?”
“Yes
. Is that so strange?”
“I … I’m sorry, Master. I’ve just never … You didn’t have to do this for me. I should be the one cooking for you.”
“Nonsense.” He grabs the water, pours it into his glass, and takes a sip. “You don’t have to do everything. I enjoy cooking from time to time.”
“May I ask a question?”
“Yes, but you don’t have to ask permission for that either.”
“All right … I just wonder why you want me to eat alongside with you. I thought eating together was for guests only.”
He stops eating and places down his fork. “Because you are my guest. Just because I bought you doesn’t mean you don’t get to eat with me. You are not beneath me, Ava.” He nods at my fork. “I made these for you so you could enjoy a nice breakfast with me. Or are you not hungry?”
“Oh, yes, I am, Master.” I lick my lips.
“Then eat.”
Obliging, I pick up the fork and knife and cut off a small piece, feeling like I shouldn’t overstep it. He watches me like a hawk as I put it in my mouth, but nothing prepares me for the explosion of taste on my tongue. It nearly puts tears in my eyes.
“And?” he asks.
“It’s delicious, Master,” I say. “I’ve never tasted anything like this.” I chew it over and over until there’s nothing left, savoring every little bit.
His mouth curves into a smile. “I’m glad you like it, although I have to say, cooking isn’t one of my best qualities.”
“Oh, but you are a fantastic cook, Master,” I say.
“You don’t have to flatter me with compliments. I know my bacon and eggs aren’t always perfect. I often overcook them.”
“I wouldn’t know, though, so these are always perfect to me.”
“What do you mean?” He frowns.
I swallow the bite that I had, feeling overjoyed. “I’ve never actually had bacon and eggs before, Master.”
“You’ve never … had bacon and eggs?” He makes it sound like that’s an odd thing.
“No, Master. But I do love it.” I smile at him, and a smile tugs at his lips too, but I sense a little tension between us.
“Go on then. Take another bite. I want you to finish your plate,” he says, and he picks up his fork too.
We eat in silence until our plates are empty and our stomachs full. It’s the first time in forever that I’ve eaten this much of something so good.
“Thank you, Master … for letting me taste your cookery,” I say as he scoots his chair back.
He nods. “You’re welcome.” And he leans over to pick up my plate.
I immediately get up and pick up his, trying to take it from him, but he won’t allow me.
“No,” he says, his eyes dark and brooding. “Stay.”
I freeze in place.
“But I want to … help,” I mutter. “You shouldn’t have to do that sort of thing, Master. It’s my job as your servant.”
“Your job is to do what I want, and what I want right now is for you to sit down and let me take this to the kitchen.”
“Yes, Master.” I sit back down in my chair.
“Good,” he says.
I watch him bring the plates and cutlery back to the kitchen, and I crumple up my dress because of it. My fingers are itching to get to work and my feet are twitching to get a move on. But listening to my Master is more important than my own need to take the weight off his shoulder. He doesn’t want me to … but why? Why won’t he allow me to help him?
Is it because he wants me to see him as an equal? Someone who does as many chores as I do? Someone who will not only take, but also give?
That’s impossible because I am a servant and he is a Master.
We will never be the same.
He turns on a device, and after a while, I smell coffee. The scent gives me a headache, reminding me of all the times I didn’t create a perfect creamy swirl on top and got whipped for it.
I swallow as Master Marcus brings two steaming cups to the table and sits down, sliding one to my end of the table. We have a stare down, and I know it’s because he is tempting me, seeing if I will finally act on my own without him telling me
I know it is what he wants, so I pick up the cup and bring it to my lips.
The heat of the liquid surprises me, and I choke on it a little before swallowing it down.
“Watch out, it’s hot,” he says, laughing a bit when he sees me struggle.
“Yeah, I didn’t realize. I’ve never had this before.”
“Really? Not even coffee?”
“No, Master. Coffee is for Masters.”
“That’s what you’ve been taught …” he says, taking a sip.
“It’s the only thing I know.”
“Right … so tell me, what exactly did you eat and drink before you came to this place?”
“We ate rice crackers and vitamin supplements. They were cheaper than regular food.”
He places his cup down and looks at me as if I’ve gone mad, his eyes big and his lips parted.
“So in all your life, you’ve never eaten anything else but crackers?” He makes a face.
“With the exception of what our Master generously gave us … no.”
He almost chokes on his coffee but manages to keep it all inside and swallow it down. Shaking his head, he sighs.
“Does that anger you, Master? You seem upset.”
“No, no … It’s just surprising, that’s all.” He mulls it over a bit. “There is so much I don’t know about you yet. Why don’t you tell me about your life before you came to live with me?”
“My life? Do you mean with my previous Master?”
“Yes,” he says. “I think it’s important.”
“Oh … okay.” I nod slowly. “All right. Where do you want me to start?”
He picks up a napkin, pats his mouth with it, and crumples it in his hand. With a resolute voice, he says, “The beginning.”
8
Ava
Thirteen years ago
We’re celebrating Christmas, and I’m just opening my gift when they come.
I barely know anything else than this is the day I receive lots of gifts from an old, bearded guy in a red suit, dropping down the chimney and riding off with his reindeer. Except, this year it’s only one present, but my mommy and daddy made it very clear this one is very special and for me alone. They say that Santa already sent them their present and that they are so happy with me they just want to see me smile.
I’m too young to realize something is wrong when someone bangs on the door and my mommy’s voice is stricken with fear. Loud voices yell from the other side of the door, and my daddy immediately runs to the door, leaving my mommy and me alone near the tree.
Threats are made. Something about money and loans. I don’t even know what those are, but from their anger, I can tell it’s important.
Then my heart stops.
Bang.
The noise is deafening, the sound echoing through the halls and living room.
My mother’s face turns pale. She looks at me with terror in her eyes.
“C’mon.” She doesn’t hesitate, not one second, to pick me up in her arms and run away.
My present drops from my hands as I’m unable to hold onto it, the doll that was inside breaking free from the box, the contents scattering across the floor. In my head, I wonder why my mommy is stopping me from opening my present and why my daddy is talking and making noise with people at the door instead of celebrating Christmas. I don’t ask my mommy because she seems in a hurry to bring us to their bedroom. She puts me down on the floor and closes the door behind her, turning the key in the lock.
She never locks that door.
I stare at her as she pushes a small bed stand in front of the door and then turns around to face me.
“Mommy, what’s happening?” My voice trembles.
She kneels and grabs me, hugging me tight. “Don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
&nbs
p; “Who were those men at the door?” I ask.
“Just some men Daddy has to deal with.” Her bright smile can’t hide the tears staining her eyes. “He’s busy right now, so unwrapping the present will have to wait for just a few minutes, okay?”
I nod.
“Good. But I don’t want you to be bored, so let’s play a game of hide and seek. If you go lie under the bed, I’m going to go hide, and you can’t come out until you’ve heard your daddy or me yell your name, okay?”
“Okay …”
She kisses me on the cheek. “Good girl. Now, go get under the bed.”
I do as she says, crawling under the wood until my head is tucked away and she has to bend over to see me. “Perfect.”
Suddenly, a loud banging makes a hole in the door. My mommy turns her head and toward the door and then back to me, her face riddled with fear.
“Don’t get out. Stay there, okay?” She grabs my hand, squeezing tight.
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Mommy loves you. You know that, right?” She presses a kiss to my hand, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Why are you crying?” I ask.
“Because I’m so happy to have you and Daddy all for myself. He loves you so much. Remember that, okay? Remember that we love you … more than anything in this world.”
“Okay,” I say, as she lets go of my hand.
“I have to go now. I’m gonna look for Daddy, so you stay under here.”
I nod as she gets up to her feet and walks toward the door.
Loud voices boom through the house.
“We know you’re in there.”
“Stay away!” my mommy says with a stern voice.
“Not until you give us what we came for.”
“I don’t have anything! Leave me alone!”
“Sure you do …”
Another loud bang accompanied by my mommy’s scream makes me push my fingers into my ears.
Sheer force pushes the cabinet away from the door and the door slams open. My mommy stumbles backward, screaming, “Don’t come any closer!”
Ultimate Sin Page 7