with good intentions.
Raithe had been good at this, too. When he didn’t want her pain, he knew how to make his touch gentle, stirring, the way every woman wanted to be touched. Even against her will, he’d get her on the knife edge of climax, and then he’d bring the knife into it.
He’d taken her over into orgasm with her mouth around the cock of a servant who’d been ordered to rub his genitalia with manure in order to suitably reinforce her degradation. She’d gagged, even as she’d screamed out her climax.
You’re my little cunt, aren’t you? Doesn’t matter what’s done to you; deep inside you want to please. It’s awe inspiring.
During the aftershocks of that particular orgasm, he’d replaced his fingers with a sharp kitchen utensil, and her cries became screams of pain. He’d made her bleed and refused to let her clean herself afterward, even prohibited her from brushing her teeth for several days. Then he punished her for being a filthy slut. While he was flogging her, he clamped a vibrator on her untouched clitoris so she came again and again, until she was reduced to tears, begging just for a bath.
A bath like this . . .
“No,” she whimpered. The garden was drying up, blackening, and the animals were dead, rotting. She needed to withdraw, to go back into her steel room. Where was it? She turned, but her way was blocked. The angel that guarded the door to Eden with his multidirectional sword? You’re too filthy, too ruined to come back here. The angel looked like Lord Mason, and she backpedaled, trying to run.
“Jessica.”
Her name was being called, by a woman. Jessica blinked, and the bathroom swam into her consciousness. She looked down, wasn’t surprised to see the blood, for he’d cut her, hadn’t he? The water was swirling crimson. Then she saw her fingernails had dug into her thighs. Because she hadn’t trimmed her nails in so long, they were rough and ugly. Amara’s hand was cradling Jess’s face. “Jessica,” she repeated. “I would like you to kiss me. Will you kiss me?”
The wetness on her face wasn’t all from the sponge. Awaiting her answer, Amara leaned forward and placed her lips on Jess’s cheek, over the tear rolling down it, arresting its forward motion. So easy, so stimulating. Soft, sensual lips. Amara moved up the track, kissed Jess’s eye as the lid closed, then moved over to the other. Up to her forehead, resting her lips on the place in the
center above her brows, which seemed to bring a wary flood of peace. Jess’s fingers curled again, only this time against her own palms.
She wanted to touch the woman. Male bodies, hard, unyielding—there was fear there, pain. But this . . . Raithe didn’t allow the female humans in his household to touch. Jessica had been relatively innocent, but even she knew it was unusual for a heterosexual male not to want two women touching. Maybe he’d inadvertently given her a gift, one thing his presence hadn’t soiled. She’d never been attracted to women, but this wasn’t about sexual preference. It was a sudden need to touch a beautiful body, have it respond to her. God, how long had it been since she’d been touched like this, been invited to touch back, without pain or fear?
“Will you kiss me?” Amara lifted her head, asked again. “Please, Jess. I really want you to kiss my mouth. But it’s your choice. It’s all your choice.”
013
Doesn’t matter what’s done to you; deep inside you want to please. It’s awe inspiring . . .
Mason cursed and pivoted away from the wooden dummy, swiping the towel across his face. There were times he hated being right. This was one of them. Yes, it was a key to helping the girl. But thanks to Raithe, it was a key equally capable of destroying what was left of her mind, if it hadn’t already.
The vast complex of underground rooms and corridors beneath his estate allowed him to set his own hours, for at his age, he did not need to find repose immediately upon
Raithe had been good at this, too. When he didn’t want her pain, he knew how to make his touch gentle, stirring, the way every woman wanted to be touched. Even against her will, he’d get her on the knife edge of climax, and then he’d bring the knife into it.
He’d taken her over into orgasm with her mouth around the cock of a servant who’d been ordered to rub his genitalia with manure in order to suitably reinforce her degradation. She’d gagged, even as she’d screamed out her climax.
You’re my little cunt, aren’t you? Doesn’t matter what’s done to you; deep inside you want to please. It’s awe inspiring.
During the aftershocks of that particular orgasm, he’d replaced his fingers with a sharp kitchen utensil, and her cries became screams of pain. He’d made her bleed and refused to let her clean herself afterward, even prohibited her from brushing her teeth for several days. Then he punished her for being a filthy slut. While he was flogging her, he clamped a vibrator on her untouched clitoris so she came again and again, until she was reduced to tears, begging just for a bath.
A bath like this . . .
“No,” she whimpered. The garden was drying up, blackening, and the animals were dead, rotting. She needed to withdraw, to go back into her steel room. Where was it? She turned, but her way was blocked. The angel that guarded the door to Eden with his multidirectional sword? You’re too filthy, too ruined to come back here. The angel looked like Lord Mason, and she backpedaled, trying to run.
“Jessica.”
Her name was being called, by a woman. Jessica blinked, and the bathroom swam into her consciousness. She looked down, wasn’t surprised to see the blood, for he’d cut her, hadn’t he? The water was swirling crimson. Then she saw her fingernails had dug into her thighs. Because she hadn’t trimmed her nails in so long, they were rough and ugly. Amara’s hand was cradling Jess’s face. “Jessica,” she repeated. “I would like you to kiss me. Will you kiss me?”
The wetness on her face wasn’t all from the sponge. Awaiting her answer, Amara leaned forward and placed her lips on Jess’s cheek, over the tear rolling down it, arresting its forward motion. So easy, so stimulating. Soft, sensual lips. Amara moved up the track, kissed Jess’s eye as the lid closed, then moved over to the other. Up to her forehead, resting her lips on the place in the
center above her brows, which seemed to bring a wary flood of peace. Jess’s fingers curled again, only this time against her own palms.
She wanted to touch the woman. Male bodies, hard, unyielding—there was fear there, pain. But this . . . Raithe didn’t allow the female humans in his household to touch. Jessica had been relatively innocent, but even she knew it was unusual for a heterosexual male not to want two women touching. Maybe he’d inadvertently given her a gift, one thing his presence hadn’t soiled. She’d never been attracted to women, but this wasn’t about sexual preference. It was a sudden need to touch a beautiful body, have it respond to her. God, how long had it been since she’d been touched like this, been invited to touch back, without pain or fear?
“Will you kiss me?” Amara lifted her head, asked again. “Please, Jess. I really want you to kiss my mouth. But it’s your choice. It’s all your choice.”
013
Doesn’t matter what’s done to you; deep inside you want to please. It’s awe inspiring . . .
Mason cursed and pivoted away from the wooden dummy, swiping the towel across his face. There were times he hated being right. This was one of them. Yes, it was a key to helping the girl. But thanks to Raithe, it was a key equally capable of destroying what was left of her mind, if it hadn’t already.
The vast complex of underground rooms and corridors beneath his estate allowed him to set his own hours, for at his age, he did not need to find repose immediately upon
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