Ultimate Sin

by Clarissa Wild

  The bright light illuminating the room doesn’t block out the darkness that emanates from him. But no matter the darkness, he looks stunning, like a model who just walked off a catwalk. The spark of light can’t be eradicated from his heart. I know it. I’ve felt it.

  When I open the door a bit more so I can step inside, his eyes fall on me.

  “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to continue cleaning.”

  “I know you did. I’m sorry for defying you, Master.”

  “Don’t. Don’t fucking apologize,” he growls, slamming his fist into the wall. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

  Even though he told me not to come inside, I take a step closer. I can’t stop myself. It’s as if my body is floating toward him like a magnet, drawn to his power.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Master,” I say.

  “Yes, I do!” he spits, crazed, his eyes filled with fury. “You have no idea what I’ve done. What I’m capable of. What … kind of a monster I am.”

  He slams the wall with his fist, but his head is still hanging between his shoulders. Even though he seems angry as hell, I still dare to step closer, knowing it could mean he will punish me.

  “You’re not a monster. You saved me. Monsters don’t save girls like me,” I say, standing in front of the shower.

  He looks up at me from under his wet eyelashes, drops of water rolling down his lips. “You’re wrong.”

  “You’re not a monster if you killed that man,” I say, gulping. “At least, I don’t think so, Master.”

  “Killing is wrong,” he hisses, sighing out loud.

  “Not if the man deserved it,” I say.

  Suddenly, an intensity flares in his eyes that makes me want to step back, but I don’t. “He deserved everything he got after what he did to you.” He grinds his teeth. “If I’d known, I would’ve made sure his life would’ve ended much sooner.”

  I smile, biting my lip, unsure if this is something I should smile to … but I smile nonetheless.

  “You killed … for me,” I mutter.

  The words sound so wrong, but they feel so good.

  He closes his eyes and rubs his face with the water. He seems conflicted about what he did, when he shouldn’t.

  “I didn’t want to see you in pain anymore,” he says, and he lets the water fall on his face and into his mouth, as if he’s trying to drown himself.

  “You shouldn’t need to feel guilty about that, Master,” I say.

  He looks so angry with his brows all furrowed and his muscles all tense. I have to do something about it.

  I start undressing myself.

  After I’ve thrown off my dress and have released the straps of my bra, he notices. “What are you doing?”

  “Undressing,” I answer as I step out of my panties.

  His eyes take in my body like a hungry wolf desperate for some relief.

  He’s visibly affected, swallowing, licking his lips, muscles still thrumming with pent-up rage.

  I want to help him, console him, make him feel good again, so I step into the shower with him.

  “Why?” he asks, looking down at me with those lust-filled eyes.

  “Because my Master needs me.”

  He makes a face. “I don’t need you. I don’t want to need you. And I sure as hell don’t want you to think that your Master needs you.”

  “Then it’s because I want you,” I say.

  The water splashes his back as he traps me within his arms. “I killed for you. I murdered a man. Blood is on my hands. You should despise me. Be disgusted by me.”

  “I’m not,” I say softly.

  “And you want to help me?”

  “I want you to feel good,” I say. “And I’ll do anything to make it happen, Master.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and push myself against him, rubbing my breasts against his chest. His growing dick pushes against my belly.

  His brows draw together. “Stop.”

  “Stop what?” I ask, pressing a kiss to the side of his lips.

  He groans with desire, and his hand grips my shoulder. “I don’t deserve you,” he says. “Not after … what I did.”

  “Master. You told me I should speak my mind and that my feelings are okay. So I will tell you right now my feelings for you have only grown. You are not a monster. You’re a kind man … let me be kind to you as well. Let me thank you for what you did.”

  I press another kiss to the other side of his lips, and soon, they find their way to his mouth. We draw toward each other like an unstoppable force pulls us in. Our kisses hot, furious, ignited by passion and the heat of drops clattering down on us. His body tenses against me as his arms wrap around my body to pull me to him.

  As our lips unlatch, I catch a drop of blood running down his cheek. It’s not his, but it doesn’t scare me. I wipe it off and show it to him, and he looks concerned.

  “Why aren’t you scared?” he asks.

  “Because I choose not to be,” I answer. “And I also choose to thank you for it.”

  I leave a peck on his chest, scattering kisses wherever I can. A deep, rumbling groan leaves his mouth, setting my senses on fire. I love that sound of primal need rushing to the surface. And even though he refuses to do something about it, I will do it for him because that’s what good girls do.

  ***

  Marcus

  Her kisses unravel me.

  Fuck straight with my head.

  I’m bursting with need, anger, desire, everything at once, and she manages to expose every one of my emotions as if it’s child play to her. She knows me … too well, and it shows.

  The way her lips drag a line down my stomach toward my raging hard-on make me want to shove her against the wall and fuck her into oblivion. I should restrain myself … I can’t do that to her … But how, when she offers herself so willingly?

  I want her so damn badly right now. I’m like a fucking stallion in heat, wanting to fuck her brains out just to get the nasty images of that fucker out of my head. But just thinking about it twists my stomach. How could I do that to her? How could I fuck her, knowing he was there first?

  “Let go, Master,” she whispers.

  “Stop,” I mutter, but the more she kisses me, the harder it becomes to say no … and the harder I become.

  Fuck me; my cock is hungry for her mouth.

  The closer her lips get, the more I’m dying for her to wrap her tiny mouth around it, but it’s wrong.

  I shouldn’t want her.

  I shouldn’t need her.

  But she needs me … how can I resist?

  “Master, let me satisfy your needs,” she whispers against my skin.

  “No …” I groan as she kisses me right below my dick. “Not like this. Not after …”

  But she keeps going, keeps kissing me until she hits my base. My cock instantly bounces from her touch, feeling her wet lips against my hardness. God, what a twist. I kill the son of a bitch who touched her, and now, she wants to reward me for it.

  “Thank you, Master,” she hums as if it makes her happy just saying it.

  “No, don’t call me that,” I murmur as her eyes meet mine. “Marcus … Marcus is fine.” Master makes me feel like I’m using her … and maybe, I don’t want to think that right now, even though it’s true.

  “Marcus …” Just hearing her pronounce my name makes me want to gorge myself on her.

  Fuck me … this lust for her willing body will ruin me, but I can’t stop myself from succumbing to her eager mouth.

  Her tongue dips out to lick my length and it makes me hiss with pleasure. My dick thrums, the tip dripping pre-cum as she slowly twists her tongue around me, slathering me with her saliva. She’s soft and delicate, and when she takes me into her mouth, I nearly explode.

  “Fuck …” I moan, biting my lip. “How am I supposed to fight this when you so eagerly wrap your lips around my dick, Ava? It’s all I ever dream about at night …”

 
“Then let me give it to you, Mas—Marcus,” she says as she takes a breath.

  My whole body tenses as she dives back in again, and I can feel every inch of her greedy mouth as it sucks me off. I wonder if she realizes what she’s doing to me, with me, twisting me around her tongue until I give in to pure need. I feel bad for letting her, knowing what has happened to her, but damn, I’m too horny to stop her either.

  The more she licks, the harder I become, and when the tip of my cock touches the back of her throat, I act impulsively, thrusting into her with a hunger I can’t describe. I want to fuck her mouth until she begs me to stop. She should.

  “Don’t let me take over,” I growl, as she leans back.

  But she doesn’t respond. She only looks up at me with those big, wonderful eyes, pleading with me to do whatever I please.

  Coming all over that soft tongue of hers is what I please.

  I grab her face with both hands as her body is pushed against the wall, her mouth still wet and wide open for me to fuck. “Stop,” I say. “Or so help me God …”

  She shakes her head, her tongue eagerly coating me with her saliva, dripping with my salty pre-cum. God, she’s perfect, too perfect for me to taint, yet I want nothing more than to make her mine.

  Rage makes me this way. Makes me commit atrocious sins. Makes me want to claim what doesn’t belong to me. Even if I own her fucking body, heart, and soul, I’ll never earn the right.

  “Do you have any idea what it does to me when you throw yourself at my feet like that? It makes me want to fuck you until you scream my name. Makes me want to fucking blow my load all over you.”

  “Please … Do it,” she mumbles between sucking my cock. “Please, fuck me, Marcus.”

  “Oh … fuck yes, I will,” I growl, my grip on her head tightening.

  When her lips make an O-shape, I plunge in. I don’t go slow. I don’t go soft. I go hard and fast, fucking her until her eyes turn watery with tears and her saliva drips from her mouth, and even then, I don’t stop. I can’t. I can’t stop fucking her face. Can’t stop making her gag. I love the sound … it’s the sound of power and control. I’m addicted to the very look in her eyes, the scared but totally committed gaze; the one that tells me she submits to my every whim.

  I thrust, groaning out loud, not giving a shit that she can barely breathe.

  I’m selfish. Bad. Wrong.

  But she likes me that way.

  She wants me that way.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself as I fuck her against the wall until she has nowhere to go.

  “See what you do to me?” I growl. “See how badly I want to coat your tongue with my cum?”

  She nods, her mouth barely able to hold me, but I’m too close for her to turn away.

  “Fuck, I’m going to come in your mouth, and you’re going to swallow it all,” I growl madly, driven by lust.

  “Yes,” she rasps, gasping for air as I thrust in and out.

  Just that single word pushes me over the edge.

  One deep thrust all the way down to the back of her throat and I’m lost. “Fuck!”

  My cock pulses as it shoots its cum into the back of her throat. Her eyes turn to me as she struggles to cope with the massive load I ejaculate into her mouth.

  “Swallow,” I growl, and when she does, I can feel her tongue push against my dick, giving it just that extra boost it needed.

  My teeth clench as my cum spurts out until the very last drop, the energy that was pent up inside finally releasing. When I’m sated, I pull my cock from her mouth and wipe the excess cum off her lips with my thumb, dipping it into her mouth so she’ll taste every last drop of me.

  God, I’m such a fucking bastard for enjoying the sight of her mouth filled …

  “Good girl,” I say.

  “Thank you, Master Marcus.”

  I smile at her and help her up, caressing her cheek along the way. “Why are you thanking me? It’s me who should be thanking you,” I say.

  “Because that’s what good girls do when they receive cum from their Master.”

  I frown. It’s really deep with her. I wonder if I can ever break through it.

  “Enough of this,” I say, and in one fell swoop, I lift her up in my arms.

  She squeals a little but then grins as I bring her to my bed. I flop down backward with her on top of me, and I pull her closer to my face.

  “Sit on my face, Ava,” I say.

  “With my …?”

  “Put your pussy on my mouth,” I say, dragging her toward me.

  Her cheeks immediately flush. “O-okay …”

  She slides on top of me, her legs beside my head, her pussy still hovering above me.

  “Pleasure yourself,” I say.

  “With my finger?” she asks.

  “No. Fuck yourself with my tongue,” I say, licking my lips.

  Her eyes widen. “Oh, but I couldn’t—”

  “Yes, you can. I want you to fuck my face.”

  “Master Marcus fucks his servant … servants don’t—”

  “Ava,” I say, looking her straight in the eyes. “You gave me what I needed … now, let me return the favor. Fuck my face. I won’t say it again.”

  She lowers her pussy on top of my lips with ease, breathing out a breath as if she’s overstepping her own boundaries. That’s good. I want her to learn it’s okay to have needs and act on them.

  When I dip my tongue out to taste her, she jolts up and down a bit, a gasp slipping from her mouth. I ignore it and continue, licking her slowly, sensually, adding more pressure as I go. I suck on her lower lips and clit until she moans softly, and then roll my tongue along her entire pussy. I love the sounds she makes, and the more I kiss her, the more she seems to loosen up.

  “Ride my face, Ava,” I murmur into her pussy lips.

  Slowly, she starts gyrating on top of me, and I allow her to guide my tongue where it needs to be. Her moans come out in short gasps, quicker and louder as I help her a little, moving her hips with my hands. I hold her in place so she can’t move away. I want her to go on until she can’t hold it any longer. I want her to feel what it’s like to be in control.

  “How does it feel?” I ask between licks.

  “So good, Master Marcus.”

  “Hmm … go as fast as you want. This is for you.”

  She groans and leans over me, placing her hands above my head, her nipples hardening as she nears ecstasy. Her body heats up and her wetness now drips over my chin, coating my tongue with her delicious taste. I dip my tongue into her pussy and allow her to circle above me, letting her decide where I go. Wet lips meet wet tongue, and I lick her as much as she fucks me. Faster. Harder. She’s almost there; I can sense it.

  “Master Marcus … I …” she moans.

  “Yes, come all over my face,” I growl.

  One loud, intense moan, and then her hips buck and she shivers on top of me. Wetness spills from her into my mouth, and I lap it all up. The taste of her orgasm makes me so horny; my dick is hard instantly.

  She collapses on top of me, so I catch her in my arms and let her rest on my chest, her nipples practically spilling into my mouth. I can’t help but suckle them gleefully, setting her body aflame even more.

  God, she’s like a gift sent from heaven.

  A gift I shouldn’t touch yet unwrapped too soon.

  I will go to hell for this.

  12

  Ava

  “You’ve passed with flying colors,” the doctor says with a smile, handing me the paper that confirms my STD tests came back negative. “Nothing to see on the scans.”

  “That’s good news,” Master Marcus says as he takes the paper from me to check it thoroughly. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. The tests indicated nothing wrong,” the doctor says.

  “All right …” Master Marcus frowns and rubs his chin as he reads the paper. “I’ll take your word for it then.”

  “No need. The proof is on the paper.” The doctor smiles
and picks up his briefcase. “Well, I’ll be going now.”

  “Yes. I’ll show you out,” Master Marcus says, and he walks the man to the door and lets him out. However, the look on his face remains uneasy. Like he’s puzzled.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask.

  “No, no … it’s just … curious. I didn’t expect this to be the outcome.”

  “Oh …” I lower my eyes.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he says, smiling at me. “I’m happy. This is good news. I just didn’t think you’d be … clean. But you are.”

  “My Masters have taken good care of me,” I say.

  He narrows his eyes. “Hmm … if you say so.”

  Suddenly, he coughs. Not once, but multiple times, and he pulls out a napkin from his pocket, holding it in front of his mouth. The coughing doesn’t stop; it only gets worse.

  “Are you okay, Master?” I ask.

  He coughs one more time, lowering the napkin to look at it.

  There are drops of blood inside.

  “Oh, no,” I mutter. That doesn’t seem all right.

  “It’s fine. It happens every now and then,” he says, quickly crumpling up the napkin and tucking it back into his pocket.

  “I can get the doctor to come back if you’d like,” I say.

  “No, no, it’s fine,” Master Marcus says with furrowed brows, clearing his throat.

  The doorbell rings. I curiously watch him walk toward the door, still wondering what that blood meant. When he opens the door, it’s one of the mailmen who regularly bring goods to this house, which is so far away from regular cities.

  “Thanks,” Master Marcus says as the man hands him a giant package.

  “I have a few more with me. Want me to bring them to the back?” The mailman points to a cart behind him.

  “Yeah, if you can, please.”

  “Can I help?” I ask.

  “No, it’s fine,” Master Marcus says as he places the box down in front of me. “This is actually for you.”