Microsoft Word - Assassin Master final for conversion

by Assassin Master [Whispers] (mobi)

  “Listen to me, Hannah. We are going to play the

  quiet game. No matter what you hear, you must stay perfectly quiet, and if you win you get a prize,” Carrie said softly, patiently, battling to keep the urgency from her tone.

  “Like what?” Hannah asked. Her liquid eyes wide, frightened, now showed interest. Carrie was holding the girl on her lap and gently stroking her hair. The hole was stuffy and she wondered if they would have adequate air. A miniscule strand of light peeked in

  through a slivered crack in the wood.

  “What would you like more than anything, Hannah?”

  “A puppy. Father said he would think about it. But he hasn’t stopped thinking yet.”

  “A puppy sounds like a fine prize. If you win, you get your puppy,” Carrie promised. She would have promised her an entire litter of puppies, she was feeling so desperate. It was imperative the child stay quiet; their lives depended on it.

  “I’m going to win,” the girl declared and clamped

  her little mouth closed.

  Shortly after came a sound Carrie knew would come; she tried not to cry out or whimper when the bedroom door was smashed open. Hannah remained silent. Carrie could hear the noise of men searching the room. She stiffened as they entered the closet. She continued to rock Hannah in her arms, her chin resting against the girl’s forehead. She allowed her tears to fall silently as the men rifled through the clothing. As they made their way closer, Carrie stilled the impulse to shake for the child’s sake.

  “There’s no one here,” she heard a rough voice claim.

  “Then why was the door locked?” another asked. “It’s Tyr’s room, maybe he locked it.”

  Carrie’s shoulders relaxed as the men moved off. She cuddled the child closer and closed her eyes. She wondered if Maggie and her son had been found. Once

  more Carrie stilled her sobs as she thought of the beautiful little boy being murdered, no doubt in front of his agonized, pleading mother. It was too much.

  She decided then and there she would beg Tyr not to force her to have a child. Though the thought caused her a great agony, she could not bear the idea of someone being so heartless to someone so helpless. She realized she had rocked Hannah to sleep. She continued to rock her, wondering just what would happen to the both of them when they were forced to emerge. They could not stay hidden forever. She wondered if Sergio would spare the child’s life. She wondered at her own fate.

  * * * *

  Carrie’s breathing was labored, as was Hannah’s; they were both hot. Carrie felt the wheeze growing in her chest and battled to quell it. She surmised she and the child had been sequestered in the stifling, small hole for hours. She had pulled back on the wooden panel only slightly to afford them some much needed air as sweat dripped from her forehead. She was still unwilling to emerge. The gun blasts had long since stopped and Carrie knew someone had proved victorious, although who that someone was would remain to be seen.

  With great trepidation she heard men enter the

  closet again and riffle through the clothing. She was too tired to cry anymore. Sergio would no doubt use her brutally for avoiding his detection for so long.

  Perhaps suffocating in the small hole would be a mercy.

  “Damn! They must be here somewhere. They

  seemed to have just vanished. You are positive all the horses are accounted for? They will both perish in the desert,” Carrie heard an urgent, worried voice say.

  “Seth!” she cried out weakly. Hannah stirred in

  her arms.

  “Carrie, where are you?” Seth called. Carrie heard the relief in his voice.

  “We are here, Seth. We’re inside the wall.”

  Carrie saw the panel being forced back and she sobbed as Seth helped her from the hole. He took his daughter into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Carrie placed her hand on his arm.

  “Seth, Maggie? Your son?”

  “They are fine. All of the women and children have been accounted for now,” Seth told her happily, running a smooth hand lovingly over Hannah’s hot, flushed face.

  “I win!” Hannah declared with excitement, her feverish face animated.

  “You win what?” Seth asked, smiling into the child’s eager expression.

  “We played the quiet game. Carrie said if I won I get a puppy,” the child said, squealing with excitement.

  “Did she?” Seth asked, grinning as Carrie turned

  beet red and began squirming before him.

  “She promised,” the child said with now solemn conviction.

  “Well it would appear I owe Carrie a small favor

  for watching you while your mother was busy. What would Carrie like?” Seth asked with wry amusement.

  “A puppy for Hannah, Seth, please,” Carrie said immediately, feeling great relief.

  “A puppy it is,” Seth said, cuddling the child closer. Carrie followed him and the other men from

  the closet.

  * * * *

  Maggie gripped her daughter to her chest, sobbing hysterically. She thanked Carrie repeatedly and reached to hold her close as well. They had been looking for the two for hours after Sergio’s attempts were thwarted and he and his men dispatched. Ace had been kept occupied and had only just informed Seth of Carrie and the child’s position. Seth’s men had declared they had searched the closet, but Ace was adamant.

  Carrie approached Ace at Maggie’s urging. Carrie had told her she had been ordered by him to remain in the women’s room, but fled when the men had stormed it. Carrie had never disobeyed a direct order. She shook, terrified. She stood before the powerful man, head bowed, and spoke a quiet plea for clemency.

  “When you disobey a command given by a man,

  Carrie, you are given to the man for the night to do as

  he pleases with you,” Seth informed her. He was studying her. Carrie shuddered; her frightened eyes fled to Maggie for aid.

  “She would have been stolen or injured if she had not run. She saved Hannah,” Maggie said, coming to her defense. “It was I who had begged her to hide the child.” Carrie had been fearful, but Maggie had assured her she felt allowances could be made this once under the extenuating circumstances. Maggie claimed she was positive this one minor discrepancy could be overlooked, feeling certain Carrie would just beg forgiveness and it would be granted.

  Seth lifted his hand, stilling the woman’s remarks.

  Maggie silenced immediately and backed away, looking towards Carrie.

  “It has been a long day for everyone. I am going to be very busy for the evening. I wish for Maggie and my children to stay in my room with me and I think it best if you retire to Ace’s bedroom with him for the evening. Regardless of the circumstances, you disobeyed a direct order; you belong to Ace for the night,” Seth commanded of Carrie.

  Carrie felt the blood drain from her face. She looked up, way up, at the huge man smiling before her, and resisted the urge to run. There was no escape. She had disobeyed no matter the reason. Seth had spoken.

  “Come with me, Carrie,” Ace demanded, and

  turned to leave.

  “Remember what I have taught you and you will be fine, Carrie. He is not a cruel man,” Maggie whispered into her ear quickly as she walked past, though her fearful, concerned look cast in Seth’s direction did nothing to reassure Carrie.

  * * * *

  Carrie followed the powerful man to his bedroom. Her frightened tears flowed in a steady stream down her face. Ace had told her to obey or she may die. He never specified if it would be by another’s hand or his own. What was he about to do to her? Her heart pounded with numerous unappealing and fearful ideas.

  The room was as grand as Tyr’s, yet Carrie could barely make out her surroundings, her eyes were so clouded. Ace closed and locked the door behind him. She was trapped. She held still when Ace stood before her and gripped her arms, pulling her to him. He ran his huge hands over her face and through her hair, turning her head from side to side.
He removed her tiny, barely concealing shirt; all that was needed was to undo a single, simple bow over her one shoulder.

  She sobbed softly as he trailed calloused hands over her breasts, back and shoulders. She stilled herself from running when her filmy, almost transparent silk skirt was dropped to pool at her feet. She, like the other women, were granted no undergarments. A man was not expected to fumble with unnecessary delays to await his pleasure. He

  turned her before him, admiring her from every angle. One hand rested on her slim shoulder, holding her in place. A large finger dipped between her legs and she cried out when he explored her.

  “You are no longer untouched,” Ace declared. His

  fingers moved within her gently. She was dry and tight, and she couldn’t help but wiggle from the discomfort he caused, and was unable to suppress a groan of unease. He removed his fingers, taking oil from the dresser top. He rubbed a generous amount onto three of his fingers and stroked once more between her legs. Carrie tried her best to remain still. “Please don’t hurt me,” Carrie whimpered as he stroked higher and deeper within her. His fingers were huge. She clutched at his enormous arms, gritting her

  teeth as he added another finger.

  “Do you ask me to stop?” Ace inquired.

  “No! I beg only gentleness. Oh please, be gentle. I have only ever been with Tyr,” Carrie said, frightened. She knew she was not allowed to ask him to stop. But she could beg gentleness.

  “That is well known,” he replied. All three fingers

  now pumped into her while his thumb trailed across her nub.

  Carrie’s breathing grew rapid. She laid her head against his chest, whimpering, wishing Tyr would come and save her. Ace released her. “I wish for you to bathe me. Go run the water.”

  Carrie raced for the bathroom.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carrie had both faucets running full force, trying to remember if Maggie had said Ace liked hot water or warm. She wracked her memory, wondering if he was the one who liked bubbles, or was it Zachary? Or was it Mitch who liked hot water with bubbles, and Ace who liked warmed water with scented oil? Her heart was pounding. She was thinking so deeply she did not hear Ace approach her from behind, and jumped when he placed his large, calloused hand on her hip. She spun, facing him, terrified.

  “Please forgive me. I’m frightened and I don’t

  remember,” Carrie wept up at him, her hands clasped in a pleading gesture. She offered him an imploring look that said she was trying to do her best, wanting to do her best, but found she was incapable.

  Ace strolled to the bath, checking the water temperature. He adjusted the faucets, running more hot water into the tub, and then added a generous amount of bubble bath. Carrie stood crestfallen before him, having forgotten all she was taught in her deep fear of him. It came so easily to her with Tyr. Her mind cried out for him. He couldn’t have known she would be given to another. He had taken great

  pains to point out he would not allow it. But he was gone; until his return she belonged to Seth, and Seth could give her to whomever he chose.

  Carrie stood watching with dismay as Ace began to remove his clothing. His shirt was the first item to hit the floor; it landed sounding like a great crash of lightning within her frightened thoughts. His hands released the button of his pants. Slowly his zipper dragged downwards; Carrie was positive she could hear each click.

  She knew she was supposed to be helping him, but

  became paralyzed as more of his powerful features were exposed. One after the other, huge brown boots were undone and hit the floor like bullets. His socks were dirty; he rolled them off and fired them towards the wall, dropping them right beside the hamper. Massive hands slid his tan, camouflaged pants over his hips, and she watched, fascinated, when his long hard maleness was exposed; she couldn’t take her eyes from it.

  Carrie felt certain she would rather see him standing before her fully clothed and holding a loaded semiautomatic rifle. She had never seen such a man. Every part of him was immense and covered in a generous amount of dark curly hair, right to his toes. Even at rest his thick, long penis was an overwhelming size.

  He moved with the precision of one in command.

  His look was wry, while Carrie became aware she was

  gaping. Ace climbed into the bath and ordered Carrie in behind him. She obeyed; she flew to do his bidding, falling into the tub, missing the last step in her frightened haste to comply. She came up, sputtering, on pained hands and knees, spitting out a mouth filled with water and bubbles.

  “Wash me,” he demanded in his deep rugged

  voice. He kept his back turned; settling comfortably crouched before her, his behind resting on his calves and heels.

  Carrie grabbed at a cloth and poured soap over it,

  wanting to appease him, but the cap had not been tightened. Half the contents spilled onto the cloth before she righted it. She squeezed half the liquid off. With trembling hands, she began by washing his tense shoulders, using the cloth in small round circles, soaping him.

  She traced the cloth down his broad back; the entire time the click of her teeth clattering together was just audible under the sound of the flowing faucets. The water continued to rise and Ace rose to his knees while she worked the cloth over his taut, rounded buttocks, dipping ever lower across powerful legs.

  Carrie squealed and fell backwards when Ace turned and she saw he was no longer flaccid. His erection was aimed in her direction. It seemed a massive spear, poised for its destination. The water had risen enough she was dunked under, completely

  submerged, and she felt Ace grip her arm to haul her upright. She reached for him blindly, spluttering, but managed only to grasp his jutting penis in her hand, pulling hard. Ace groaned, clasping her wrist to stop her from yanking on him further.

  Once upright, Carrie was horrified to find she was clutching the man’s erection in a solid grip. Her eyes widened, shocked. She released him immediately, wondering if he would strike her, thinking her too bold. Carrie breathed in and out rapidly. The suds and water dripped from her sodden head and her hair hung over her breasts. She took a quick swipe at her eyes.

  “Did your first taking occur by any chance in the bath?” Ace asked wryly.

  “Yes,” Carrie whimpered. She was unable to stop the tremors racing through her body.

  “Well if Tyr survived I can do no less,” he said, chuckling. Ace gripped Carrie’s chin, raising her eyes to gaze down at her. “Try to relax. I don’t bite.”

  “Bite?” Carrie gulped. “Do you honestly think it’s your teeth that scare me?”

  “What is it you are so afraid of?”

  “I am afraid you will pin me down and take me brutally while I scream for mercy that will go unheeded,” she replied. A direct question had been asked of her. He would demand the truth.

  “Why is it you think I will do that?” he asked.

  “Because you can.” Her words came out in a

  barely audible breath.

  “Ah, I see. Carrie, have the women only been teaching you to beg and plead prettily for a man’s mercy?”

  Confused, Carrie pondered the question. “No.

  They have been teaching me where and how to touch a man to please him.”

  “If I were to pin you, how could you touch me and please me?” Ace asked reasonably.

  “I would be unable to,” she mused.

  “Carrie, pick up the washcloth and touch me. Please me,” Ace commanded.

  Though it took her a moment to search for the

  cloth she had dropped, Carrie complied, once again rubbing at his hard body in firm circles, starting with the wide span of his chest and shoulders. Her hand moved lower, trailing across his firm belly.

  Her face turned crimson as she washed him intimately, gliding the soft cloth over him, his hardened erection springing under her touch; she noted he gripped the side of the bathtub tightly as she slowly washed at his rounded globes. The water rose past his erection befo
re he reached for the faucets and turned them off.

  Completing her task, she was surprised when Ace picked up the cloth, and turning her, began washing her. She felt his long hardness pressed up against her, pushing at her behind. She stiffened, whimpering, but relaxed as he repositioned himself, moving away from

  her, as though sensing her great distress.

  He washed her with one hand while the other explored, roaming down her back to her slender waist. He trailed his fingers over the curve of her behind and she cringed involuntarily. For a split second, she pulled away from him before returning to her submissive stance.

  “Carrie?” he questioned. She could hear the disapproval in his tone.

  She felt panicked; she squeezed her eyes closed. She was never supposed to cringe or pull away from a man, but accept him, welcome his touch, and if she must she was to pretend she was pleased at the invasion. She had broken a rule, a big rule. Seth had warned her she was his for the night; he could punish her however he chose.