I can’t give her more. But I’m too selfish to send her away just yet. I glance down at the anklet she’s still wearing. She needs me still. I can’t let her go.
“Who do your worries belong to, kitten?”
“You, Master.”
I pull her pussy into my face and give her a long languid lick.
“And your body?”
“You, Master.”
I suck her clit, moving her hand to the back of my head. And then her other. Letting her know she can touch me, she can lead me.
I pull away slightly, her fingers spearing my hair.
“And your pleasure? Who does that belong to?” I ask.
“You, Master.”
I’m a selfish prick for allowing it. But I make a promise to myself that once she’s healed, I’ll let her go. There are only fifteen days left.
I won’t break her.
I’ll only heal her and then let her walk away.
“Tonight it belongs to you, kitten.” I lick her once and then look into her beautiful eyes glazed with desire. “Take it from me.”
“Katia, what does being a Master mean?” I ask her as I lay her in bed.
“It means you own someone. Mind, body and soul. They belong to you completely. And their Slaves desire it. They are complete with their Master.”
“Is that all, kitten?” I ask her.
“I don’t know, Master,” she answers in a hushed voice, exhausted from the long night. She’s so very close to understanding.
Chapter 26
Katia
I lie still in bed, my eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Just like I have the last few nights. The terrors don’t come in my dreams. Now they flash before my eyes as soon as I lie down.
The soft sounds of the night turn into something else. The chirps of the crickets morph into the drips of water from the pipe in the dungeon. It leaked every fucking day I was in there. Drip, drip, drip. In my mind it became a part of my fucking punishment. No daylight, and never any quiet.
But the sound I keep hearing over and over in my head is different. The sound that keeps me wide awake and on edge is the sound of metal. Of the chain scraping on the bare concrete floor.
The chain. Always the chain.
They’d drag me by them, either the one on my ankle or the one on my throat. Choking off my air supply, not caring whether they broke my neck or how much pain it caused me. I can still feel it now, biting into my tender flesh as I’m dragged across the concrete floor. My thighs would scrape against the floor as I was dragged, opening wounds and causing nasty abrasions that would last for days. I learned to be good because of those chains.
The ankle was worse, because even when they weren’t there, I was enslaved by it. And the scratching of the chain followed me everywhere; the pain in my ankle from the shackle was a constant in the four years I spent there.
I sit up with my hands clenched, anger consuming me in my darkened bedroom, sweat covering my forehead. There’s a stream of moonlight coming through the window, making it easy to see. Everything seems so easy to see in this moment.
I rip the covers off to gaze at my anklet. My heart skips a beat the sight. It's gleaming in the moonlight, seeming to taunt me. Rage fills me. I hate it. I hate this. I hate what those bastards did to me. I could never take the anklet off. Ever. Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to acknowledge them. Instead I stare at the blurred vision of the beautiful anklet. I’m still imprisoned, still under his control. The thought sends a chill through my body. He doesn’t own me.
He never owned me. Never!
I clench my teeth as a fiery rage boils up from the pits of my stomach, spurring me to rip off the anklet. I nearly scream with frustration as my fingernails cut into the tender skin as I try to get this fucking thing off of me.
Get it off!
The tiny cuts are nothing; they can’t scar me any worse than I already am.
Because of him.
Because of this! I scramble from my bed, the anklet in my hand, staring at it as though it’s him. The sparking of the crystals are akin to his gleaming smile. Always smiling. I made him so happy. A sickness stirs in my stomach. I hear his laugh, smell his breath. Even the night I murdered him, just moments before I stabbed him, plunging the shard of glass deep into his throat over and over, even then he was smiling.
I rush over to the nightstand and set it down gently, ever so gently even though my hands are trembling. I quickly grab the lamp sitting next to it. It’s beautiful, with a crystal base, but it’s sturdy. And heavy.
Screaming with fury, I smash the base of the lamp over and over onto the beautiful piece of jewelry.
But that’s not enough. I throw the lamp down and grasp the anklet, slamming it into the nightstand while it’s in my fist. And then the wall. It needs to be destroyed. That’s all I know. I need it gone.
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” I scream, slamming the metal into the wall over and over with all my might. I feel something wet and warm flow down the palm of my hand and my arm and then drip onto the floor. A chill goes through me as I realize it’s my own blood. I’ve torn open my skin in my rage, but I don’t care. I want to be free. Free of it. Free of them.
“You don’t fucking own me!” I yell at the ceiling, my throat dry and aching with a pounding I know will hurt later. Slamming the now twisted and mangled anklet into the wall again, tears stream freely down my face. There’s now multiples indents all over the wall, and the fancy paint is chipped in places. But I don’t care.
“You were never my Master!” With another furious yell, I throw the anklet across the room where it hits the wall, making a jagged dent, before falling to the floor with a loud clink. I stare at the object, my breathing ragged and my shoulders heaving.
It’s only an ankle, only a piece of jewelry, but it had so much power over me, power I didn’t willingly give. Power that I’m taking back.
Exhaustion takes over my body as I realize I don’t fucking need it. I don’t want it either. Maybe the nightmares will come, maybe they won’t. But I won’t give that bastard any power over me.
Never again.
Snapping me from the realization, I hear the door creak open and the flick of a light switch. The light stings my eyes, even though I can barely see through the tears. I didn’t even realize I was crying. I wipe the tears from my eyes and suddenly feel like I can’t breathe. I stare at my hand, seeing it shaking. I close my eyes and try to calm down, the adrenaline coursing through my veins suddenly feeling like too much.
“Katia?” Isaac’s deep voice is filled with worry, but I hardly notice. It hurts so bad.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, my voice so hoarse and garbled that it doesn’t even sound human.
I hear the sound of heavy footsteps and suddenly I feel myself being lifted and gently placed on the bed. I look up through my tears to see Isaac’s handsome face looking down at me in disapproval. His green eyes slowly trail down to my bloody hands, and anger flashes in his eyes.
“Isaac,” I croak, shaking my head. I can’t have him disapproving. Not of this. Please. Please don’t.
He sits down on the bed next to me. It groans with his weight as he leans forward and brushes my hair away from face. “Shh, kitten,” he tells me softly as I continue to sob. “I need you to calm down now so I can clean you. Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”
The sound of his deep voice is soothing and I relax a little, pressing my palms to my hot, stinging eyes to keep from crying any more. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to feel anything for my past anymore. Isaac stares at me for a moment, before leaving me for a moment to gather something from the cabinet in the bathroom. I listen as the door opens and he rummages for something, all the while my heart hurting. It’s worse than the throbbing pain in my hands. He goes about cleaning up my hands. It burns like fuck, and I seethe from the pain, but he has my wounds cleaned and dressed quickly. Neither of us speaking all the while.
I’m dreading telling him. I don’t know if he’ll qui
te understand. But if anyone could, it would be him.
“Now, what happened?” he asks, when he’s done, placing the dirtied cloth down on the nightstand.
As I stare into his green eyes, I suddenly realize what I’ve done. I’ve let my emotions overcome me and acting in a way that could displease him. Looking at the battered walls, I feel like I’ve disrespected his house. Ashamed, I quickly try to climb off of the bed and fall to my knees at his feet, but he grabs my waist and stops me, pulling me back onto the bed.
“Please, Master, don’t be upset me with me,” I cry, trembling. My heart hurts so fucking bad. I want to hide. I don’t want him to see what I’ve done. I don’t want to admit it either.
“Shh. None of that,” Isaac says softly, pulling me beside him and wrapping his arms around me, rocking me gently back and forth. I feel so safe in his arms, enveloped in his warmth. I just wish I could stay here forever. “I could never be upset with you over your pain.” He pushes the hair out of my face again and cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him. His hand feels so cool against my hot skin. “You just need to tell me what caused this.”
Isaac’s peering at me, his gorgeous green eyes soft and caring. There’s no judgment there. I’m grateful. I thought he’d be angry with me.
I shake my head slightly, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
“I don’t want it anymore,” I say, and it hurts just saying those few words.
“I can see that,” he says with a touch of humor before taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me what caused it.”
I take in a long and shaky breath. “I don’t know why. I just know that I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want any more reminders.” I swallow thickly, closing my eyes and not knowing how to explain but not wanting to explain any more either.
Seeing my ravaged visage, Isaac gently smooths my disheveled hair out of my face and moves in close, kissing me on the cheek, my lips, and then kissing away my tears with his full lips.
“I need to tell you something, and I think you need to know now.” I stare into his piercing gaze, my heart refusing to beat. He’s serious, and his expression tells me it’s something he doesn’t want to say.
“They’re dead,” Isaac tells me. His words are firm and filled with finality. It’s a statement of a fact. “The other men in Carver Dario's cartel. They’re all dead.”
Shock twists my stomach, taking my breath away. Did I really hear him right? I couldn’t have. But I look into his eyes, and my skin pricks at the ruthlessness I see in them. “Dead?” I whisper.
Isaac gently strokes my cheek, his caring actions at odds with what he’s telling me. “I did some digging. I needed to know.” They’re really dead? The words seem to slowly sink in, a warmth of satisfaction surrounding me and then moving through me, giving me a sense of strength I didn’t feel before.
“If I could, I would’ve killed them myself.” He hooks my chin and makes me look into his gorgeous eyes. “I wanted to. I wanted to make them suffer. But I can’t. And I’m so sorry I can’t give you that.”
My heart beats faster and I feel a strong pull toward Isaac, a strong bond forming and drawing me closer to him.
“They will never harm you again. You are safe. Always. Do you understand?”
I nod my head, searching his green eyes for the same thing I feel. “Yes, Master,” I whisper.
Chapter 27
Isaac
“I want you to choose one, for when you’re ready to wear it.” There are only five days left in our contract. Even if she only wears it for a day, I’ll be satisfied. I haven’t decided how to tell her that we may not be able to continue this… once the contract is done. Her wounds are still fresh from what she confronted days ago. I won’t leave her on her own while she’s healing, but any longer than that would be unfair of me.
I know I need to tell her, but not yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye.
“I’m ready now, Master.” Her soft voice and confession shock me. The ease of her tone and the way she looks at the row of collars I’ve purchased for her as though they’re a reward and she’s choosing the best one. It’s not what I anticipated.
It should make me relieved. I should be happy. But I’m not.
It only means she’s so much further along than I thought she was.
I know I need to send her away.
I don’t want to though. And we have a contract. I at least need to see that through.
But once it’s over, I have nothing more to offer her. I can’t provide for her in the ways she’ll need. I can direct her, but she’ll only grow more attached. It’s too selfish.
She purses her lips as she lifts one of the five collars. The bracelet on her wrist, the Pandora one I gave her on New Year’s, jingles as she lifts the collar and holds it up to her throat.
It’s the thinnest of them all. It’s rose gold and two thin bands of metal that cross at the center. It would look gorgeous on her. All of them would.
In truth, I’d like her to desire all of them. I want a collar on her neck every second of the day. Even when she’s out of the house and around people who aren’t in the lifestyle. That’s why four of them resemble jewelry.
The fifth is a traditional collar, but the leather band is a soft pink the color of rose petals.
“I really love this one,” Katia says as she turns and presents the collar to me. She knows better than to put it on herself. My chains are to be placed on her by me, and taken off by only myself.
“Master?” Katia asks softly as I clasp the collar around her neck. “May I wear the chain as well?”
“Of course.” I absently touch the thin chain, once again satisfied with my claim on her. “I expect you to.”
As she plays with her collar in the mirror, I remember last night. She asked to sleep with me and when I asked if it was because of her missing anklet, she answered no. She hasn’t asked for the weighted blanket either, and for the last three nights she’s slept soundly.
She wanted to be available for my needs. And she admitted she enjoys it when I hold her when she sleeps.
I enjoy it as well.
I almost said yes, simply because I wanted to feel her soft body against mine as we slept. I wanted to be there in case she has another night terror. But there was something else in her eyes, something that made me push her away.
Things have changed for her, I know they have. The way she touches me, kisses me, even the way she talks to me.
She’s at ease and trusts me. She’s given me control of everything. Completely.
“Do you think I’m a good Master?” I ask Katia, my fingers teasing down her side before pulling her back into my chest and resting my chin on her shoulder. Her pale blue eyes find mine in the mirror.
“You are. I’m grateful to have you,” she says sweetly, turning her head slightly to rub her cheek against mine.
I close my eyes, loving her warmth, her sincerity, but New Year’s continues to play through my mind.
How she told me she was afraid. She has every right to be afraid. Her life and her goals aren’t aligned with mine. She knows this, but she’d continue to put faith in me and the fucked up relationship we have for as long as I’ll allow.
I have five days left.
I kiss her softly on the lips, hating how much I love the tenderness in her touch and the soft sounds of her sighs.
I don’t want to tell her goodbye, but I must.
I’ll carry out the contract for the next few days, only because I’m selfish. But I’ll keep my distance. I’ll make this as easy on her as I can. I don’t want to hurt her, but I have to let her go.
“Katia, what does being a Master mean?”
“It means loving someone so strongly that your life revolves around them. That every action is made with their wellbeing in mind. Their happiness is yours. Their pleasure is yours. Their life is yours. And the opposite is true for them.”
Love? I wish I could tell her she’s wrong. But she’s not. �
�My happiness is yours?” I ask her.
She looks me in the eyes and answers confidently, “Yes, Master.”
Chapter 28
Katia
I sit back on my heels at Isaac’s desk, watching him work on his laptop. I can feel the warmth of his leg and I want to lean against him, but I don’t. His brow furrowed, he’s typing something important, not paying me any mind. Yet, he’s all I can think about. I’ve been worried about him. About us.
He hasn’t been himself lately, his words and actions distant, his eyes filled with pain as if he’s losing something. I want to help him with whatever is bothering him. Like he’s helped me. But when I try to get him to open up, he shuts himself off from me. A surge of emotion threatens to choke me, but I push it away. I hate it.
I study his profile, his chiseled jawline and the stubble shading it, the clicking sounds of his fingers running across the keyboard in my ears. I don’t know what it is, but something’s off. Something has shifted. I feel like he’s less attached to me.
Maybe it’s his collar, I wonder to myself, unconsciously bringing my hands up to my neck to feel it. I love it and his claim on me. But ever since I put it on, it seems like a wall has sprung up between us. I hate it. I want back what we had. I want to get past whatever is bothering him. We can get through this together. All he needs to do is allow it.
I think he may be doing this on purpose, being distant from me. He knows our contract is over soon. I constantly remind myself that our days are numbered, and the contract is ending. But I don’t want them to be. If he wanted to keep me, I’d happily stay. I don’t care about the money. I care about everything he’s done for me. I would never have this inner strength without him. I know I wouldn’t. I feel whole again. I feel untouchable even.
I don’t want to leave him. I may not say it out loud, I may not want to admit it. But I love him. Whether that’s wrong or right, I don’t care.
Highest Bidder Collection Page 39