The Dove & the Darkness (Ceasefire Series book 5)

by Claire Marta

  “Why?” I question, refusing to rise from the bench. The ring he always wears is suspended around his neck from a piece of cord, drawing my attention. It makes me wonder why he wears it. Something from his past I can’t see? A loved one?

  Master tuts. “You need to stop questioning and obey, or you just make today worse for yourself. Are you sulking because I left you alone for so long? You should be grateful that I come down here at all to talk to you.”

  “No,” I reply frostily, rising to glare at him.

  “Liar, I think you missed me.” He crowds me until I’m backed up against the wall with nowhere to go, his heat and the masculine scent of him invading my senses. Master’s firm confident hand closes around my throat, applying slight pressure. I’m surprised to feel myself getting aroused by his dominant actions. He makes me feel so defenseless. My breathing constricts as he continues to tighten his grip while he watches my reaction. Trying not to panic, I clutch at his wrist with both hands feeling the power behind it and knowing he could snap my neck with ease if he wanted to. Master meets me eye to eye when my gaze locks onto his.

  The fingers of his other hand skim downward between my breasts, over my stomach arrowing straight down to between my legs. Rubbing them over my pussy lips, he tests my wetness. There’s no way for me to hide my arousal. How wet he makes me. He teases me with light caresses, not enough to get me off but has me raising my hips to press desperately into his touch for more pressure.

  “Let go. Don’t fight it.” Master’s voice is deep and calm.

  “Please…” I croak.

  His firm lips brush mine. “Trust me, you’ll like it. I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll see stars.”

  He’s strangling me. How am I supposed to enjoy something like this? I don’t understand. Digging my fingernails into his wrist, my vision narrows. All that I’m intensely aware of is Master Soren and the sensations he’s evoking throughout my body.

  Fingers thrust up inside me, the thick digits fucking me pitilessly while his thumb continues to torment my clit. It’s too much. I’m completely overwhelmed. At the mercy of this dark Dom, who gives me none.

  An orgasm crashes through me so powerful I arch into his touch, my pelvic muscles clenching around his fingers. The chokehold around my neck slackens, drawing in a breath, I’m unable to speak or move.

  An arm wraps itself around me, and I find myself pressed against a hard-tattooed naked chest. The fingers of his free hand tangle in my hair. Closing my eyes, I savor his warmth. God it feels so good to be held. I should hate it. Instead I cling to him needing the support.

  “You’re so lovely when you orgasm.” He breathes the words on my neck. “It makes me just want to ruin you with my depravity. I’m going to corrupt your purity in every way imaginable, and you’re going to love it.”

  His vow sends a shiver spreading through my body.

  “I don’t like anything you do to me,” I respond bitterly, pushing away from him and bowing my head.

  Master Soren chuckles. “Liar. Come let’s move to my dungeon and start today's lessons. I’m eager to test your limits.”

  Clasping my bicep, he steers me out of my cell and into the stretching corridor beyond. I’m taken to the same room he introduced to me on the first day. Seeing the ice water tub has my stomach tightening in knots. The thought of him holding my head under the water again chases away any notions to fight. Leading me across the room, he takes me to a corner. I swing my gaze to the St Andrew’s cross.

  “Time to feel the kiss of my flogger on that beautiful back of yours,” Master murmurs, his fingertips tracing the length of my bare spine with his free hand. Bringing me closer, he has me facing the piece of equipment.

  “Open your mouth.” Taking a flogger from a small table he stuffs the handle between my teeth. “Hold that while I chain you. Close your eyes. Quieten your mind. Focus on your breathing. Prepare yourself for what’s to come.”

  I bite down on the leather while he binds my hands to either side of the cross, mind racing.

  “Spread your legs,” he orders.

  I obey, feeling him secure them at the ankles. His hand caresses my arse, testing the firmness of the flesh.

  Eyes fluttering open when I hear him stand, our gazes lock as he takes the flogger from my mouth. Peppering my arse with light smacks with his free palm, he steps away without warning, landing the tassels of the flogger on my right cheek. I jerk forward at the sting, swearing under my breath. He strikes the same side two more times in quick succession. I catch his stare from the corner of my eye. It’s not cruel as I expect it to be but intense with the practiced skill he wields. Four blows meet my left cheek, and I grunt with the impact.

  Master pauses to step close, running his hand over my sore buttocks. “Breath, Dove.”

  My response is a whimper.

  Stepping away, he hits me again. The blows become harsher, making me writhe, twist and strain to escape them. Master rains them down on my back, arse, hips, and thighs. Somewhere between the smacks, the pain starts to morph into something else. Instead of flinching from the strikes, I find myself leaning into them, offering my arse for his punishment. I slip into a sense of mental suspension, the pain lessening. All my fears slip away, the doubt in my head silencing to static. As I fall deeper, my mind hovers in a state of limbo disconnected from everything. The storm and anxiousness inside me quelled my body, tingling with a strange warmth.

  Awareness returns slowly. I’m conscious of Master cooing to me softly, his strong arms holding me to his chest while he cradles me on his lap on the floor.

  “It’s all right, Little Dove, let yourself go,” he encourages. “Relax it's ok; I’ve got you. Breathe with me.”

  I’m caught off guard as I’m suddenly overwhelmed with intense feelings. Tears spring to my eyes. Before I even realize what’s happening, I’m weeping wretchedly. Burying my face against his shoulder, I sob and blubber, clinging to him desperately.

  Master continues to murmur words of encouragement caressing my spine, his chin resting on top of my head. By the time I quieten, I feel empty, drained. Too tired to move.

  “Wh…what was that?” I asked hoarsely. Right now, I don’t care if I'm his prisoner. I’m still trying to process what just happened.

  “Subspace,” he tells me quietly. “Submissive’s achieve it when they let go. It’s different for everyone. You dropped hard afterward, but I was here to catch you. Not all owners will grant their slaves that comfort. If you learn to behave, I may be inclined to give you more depending on how your training progresses and if you accept it both physically and mentally.” Master continues not making any move to release me, “I have water and some chocolate to help you recover.”

  I want it. The knowledge is startling and has me tensing up in his embrace. My captor, my corruptor, the monster that keeps me chained has something I need. Freedom from my visions. Silence from my curse.

  13

  Soren

  Escorting Cassandra back to her cell, I’m attentive of her every movement. I’d reveled in watching her reach subspace even briefly. Epinephrine had flooded her system, followed by endorphins altering her senses from a need to run to feeling relaxed and calm. It left her tired and shaky. I hadn’t moved her until I was sure she had recovered enough with the help of the chocolate and a few sips of water. She accepted the treat eagerly, savoring the strip.

  Footsteps interrupt us. Checking the corridor ahead, I find Lucien approaching us. He prowls gracefully toward us, azure blue gaze locked on me and my charge.

  “Lucien,” I greet with a tilt of my head.

  “Is this the new slave?”

  “Hands clasped behind your head,” I order the female beside me gruffly.

  She gives the other male an uncertain look before moving to obey. Instead of standing tall and straight, she hunches, obviously self-conscious of her naked state. Watching her embarrassment makes me frown. There’s nothing unsightly about her. Clothed or nude, she’s stunning to look
at.

  He studies the length of her with a critical eye. Used to breaking slaves himself, his interest doesn’t bother me.

  My little Dove shudders. I can see my impassive chilled expression is unnerving her.

  Circling her, Lucien’s palms run over her bottom.

  “It’s still warm from her punishment.” He hums in approval.

  She gasps, jerking at his intimate touch but keeps her hands where I’ve instructed.

  “Jumpy little thing, isn’t she?” He chuckles.

  “Settle,” I warn her with a hard glare. “We’re only just getting started, but I’m going to enjoy teaching her how things are done around here.”

  The vampire’s stare is curious. He knows who and what she is. What she can do. It makes me wonder if the lure of the secrets she has access to is the reason he’s arranged this convenient little meeting.

  The girl’s large, tired blue eyes take on a faraway look. “Three crowns locked in bitter battle. Eyes blind to a betrayal. Kiss the ring on his scarred hand to save the soul of the broken man.”

  Her voice is soft and slow with the rhyme that leaves her lips, expression serene.

  “No one gave you permission to speak,” I snap.

  My scolding effectively silences her. Blinking Cassandra peeks up at me warily through her dark ebony lashes before bowing her head submissively.

  Lucien looks shaken at her words. I’d been wondering when her gifts would surface. Not that I’m interested in knowing the future. Her prophecy leaves me with a sense of unwanted foreboding.

  “You're wanted in cell forty-five,” he informs me, recovering quickly.

  An execution is scheduled for today. My days are of carefully followed rules. Not only creating extreme deviant ways to ensure the slaves are immersed in submission in line with their contracts but the weight of responsibility when one ends.

  Taking Cassandra’s bicep, I steer her along the corridor toward her cell leaving him to his own tasks. “I’m on my way.”

  My charge remains quiet while we walk. Unlocking the door to her room, I guide her inside and toward the bed. Settling onto the mattress, she curls up into a ball on her side, legs bent and pressed to her chest, arms wrapped her knees in comfort. Fingers itching with the desire to stroke her dark hair, I fish the packet of chocolate out of the back pocket of my jeans, instead, leaving it beside her. I want to linger but know it's unwise. More work awaits, and Kalia will be waiting to view the execution. The Warden always takes an interest when we have them. It’s a perverted source of entertainment she never misses.

  Cassandra’s scent clings to my skin as I leave her to rest locking her door carefully behind me. Nodding to the few other guards I pass, I make my way to the cell of the condemned. Another unfortunate soul falling prey to their enemy. The female shifter regards me with fear, cowering naked in the corner at my masked face. With the drugs that have been pumped into her to prevent her from shifting into an animal form, it's also slowed down her rapid healing abilities. Scars mar her skin in long clean cuts, burn marks red and blistered from the touch of silver.

  Unclipping the chain from the wall, I jerk it violently motioning for her to crawl. Whimpering, she complies, her movements stiff as she moves. Walking her out of the cell, I keep my pace to hers knowing it's better to take my time. She’s learned what happens if she defies me. I’m not the only one who’s interrogated her. The vampires have fucked and fed on her whenever they got the chance. Leading her into a room designed for only one purpose, I walk up to the hole in the center of the floor. There’s a chemical smell in the air that always lingers here. The stench of death that has my prisoner pulling at her leash as survival instincts surface.

  I’m aware of the camera in the corner of the room. Know eyes are on us watching and waiting.

  “Get in,” I order, my tone void of emotion. Her time is up here. All her secrets torn free, she’s no longer of use to the ones who wanted her tortured. Nothing but dead weight they want to get rid of.

  “Master Soren, please. Didn’t I please? I did everything you wanted. Told you everything I could,” she begs, her voice barely a whisper, groveling for mercy at my feet. Her needs have been denied and met at my whim. A yearning to be used and abused set free inside her by my training.

  Ignoring her plea, I kick her over the edge watching her tumble down into the pit with a cry. Glancing over, I find amber eyes staring up at me through dirty, matted brown hair at the bottom. She’ll find no salvation here. I’m done with her. Our game has ended as so many others before her.

  Reaching for a lever on the wall, I pull it down activating the metal doors directly above the hole. As the liquid spills down, the female shrieks clawing at her skin in agony. The acid hisses, eating away at her flesh, burning its way through muscle and bone. There'll be nothing left by the time it's filled. No trace of her remaining to identify.

  Stepping away, the pungent smell in the air only grows stronger. I stand, listening to her screams impassively. They don’t bother me anymore. Over time, I’ve grown accustomed to such sounds, the violence I deal out desensitizing me to my victims.

  14

  Cassandra

  “That’s it, Little Dove, take it all,” Master encourages roughly as he works his surging cock in and out of my mouth. Fingers tight in my hair, his other hand curves around my jaw.

  Moaning in the back of my throat, I accept all of him as he’s been teaching me to. Days or weeks could have passed. In this windowless hell, I have no sense of time. Master Soren fucks my mouth. Teases and torments my body. Unleashes primal urges I don’t understand when he’s not abandoning me to days of isolation.

  I’ve started to crave subspace. Master is always there to guide me back. My constant rock that I find myself clinging to more and more. My dependency on him increasing the longer we spend together. The dozens of scars I’ve dug into my arms, causing myself physical pain to take over my mental one, have never brought me this kind of liberty. At the same time, it's frightening, giving myself over to him piece by piece. A connection forming between us binding us closer as Master and captive. When I please him he leaves me chocolate. I should resent the treats like I’m a favored pet, instead I savor them.

  Hands bound behind my back, he has complete control over my movements. Eyes fluttering shut, I swirl my tongue along his length. I’ve become more inventive. Learning different ways to draw out the sounds from him whenever I please him.

  “Good girl. That’s it, just submit.” Master’s voice is coarse and low.

  Each day it has been something different. A spanking, the crop, chaining me up against the wall until my muscles ache. The things he does leave me confused, frightened, and strangely aroused. It’s as if he’s awakened something inside me that wasn’t there before. A dark need.

  Then he locks me back up when he’s done with me, leaving me with an endless aching. My masked brute who handles me roughly.

  As I sink further under his spell, I find my worries melting away. In his presence, the visions that plague me are silenced with his training. Maybe they fear him too. It’s one thing I’m thankful for. A break from the never-ending unfamiliar images and lives of others that have become so unrelenting.

  I know he’s brainwashing me. Conditioning me to be compliant and meek.

  Perversely when Master is with me now, I feel safe. Protected from the things I’ve heard lurking outside the cell.

  Their evil whispers haunt me when I sleep. The things they promise they would do to me when they have a chance chills my blood. The scraping of what sounds like claws against the metal door.

  Head still bobbing up and down, I open my eyes to rivet my attention on Master’s masked face. Watching him centers me and chases away the fears. His teeth are bared as he accepts the pleasure my mouth gives him. Even though his features are concealed, he still emanates a dark presence I can’t ignore. The inner walls of my pussy flutter. I’ve never seen anyone look so fierce. Nostrils flaring, his eyes are black as h
e stares right back.

  “This mouth was made for worshipping cock.” Master’s strained voice is tight with desire. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know how to please multiple partners.”

  Thrusting harder, he makes me gag. Hold in my hair, becoming painful, I cry out as he pulls back enough so I can gasp in a breath. Without warning, his cum fills my mouth. Thick, warm it works its way over my tongue.

  “Swallow.” It’s a command.

  One I obey without a thought.

  Releasing his grip on my jaw, Master steps back, pulling his semi-hard cock free from my lips.

  “You’re getting good at that, and I can tell you're starting to enjoy it. You’re really learning how to use your tongue in the correct way.” Caressing my cheek for a moment, he then proceeds to buckle his jeans back up.

  The taste of Master’s cum is still in my mouth. There’s fire in his eyes that shakes me to the core with its ferocity. Taking me firmly by the shoulders, he guides me up to stand.

  Hunching I shift nervously under the weight of his scrutiny.

  I’m still not used to being naked all the time. My body is something I’ve always been insecure about and having it constantly on display for this male has me even more paranoid. He can see my scars. The pattern of self-harm carving up my arms. Only Raziel and my father know they are there. Normally I keep them hidden beneath baggy clothes.

  “You’re beautiful, Dove.” Master’s voice is quiet and sincere. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  Startled I raise my chin to meet his perceptive gaze.

  “I’m going to shave your pussy.” He continued conversationally as if he hadn't just complimented me.