Pain.
Passion.
His cock.
All of it.
“There.” He sounded proud of himself.
I opened my eyes and stared at the blade he held up. Blood slid along the sharp side, dark under the burning lights, and I sucked in a breath at the pleasurable sight.My blood.
My toes curled as I glanced down my belly to his artwork. I couldn’t read the word from this angle, but I didn’t need to.
“Jules.” He wiped his thumb across the bloodied brand he’d cut into my flesh. “Your body belongs to me, Ari.” His gaze jerked up to meet mine and his mouth curled at the corner. “You’re mine.”
“Yours,” I agreed again. Shuddering, I grabbed the wrist of his hand that held the blade and brought it up to my mouth. I licked the shiny steel, my tongue taking the blood with it until it was as clean as before he began his art. “Hurt me, Master. Fuck me.”
He yanked his hand away and threw the knife, which clattered somewhere on the floor, but neither of us cared. His hands flew to my knees and gripped them as he began to fuck me deep and hard. His cock was something to worship, slamming into my prostate with every shove forward. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and soaked into his ginger-brown hair, and his mouth was pulled back into a snarl as he focused on delivering rough thrusts.
The table shook under me and could give way right now and I wouldn’t care, I’d still ask him to fuck me over the broken pieces of wood. Pleasure and pain warred in a pit of flames in my stomach, and with the added sensations of cut skin and a sore back, I was in ecstasy.
A few more tugs was all it took before my cock stiffened and my orgasm ripped through me, cum shooting from my slit and splattering across my belly and chest.
“Please, Master. Fucking fill me.”
Jules grunted and his nails dug into my knees, and then he cursed and wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Fuck. Fuck!” One more thrust was all it took before he came, warmth flooding my abused hole, and he shuddered through his release as his strong chest heaved, grunting a few more times until he was done.
“Was that good?” I asked. For once, I was focused on someone else’s needs other than my own—my Master’s.
“Fucking amazing.” He gave me a tired grin and pulled out, and I hissed at the tug of his cockhead on my sore hole. He helped me sit up and my entire body ached, the tingling sensations running over my skin and goose bumps tickling my arms. “I was going to be gentler.”
I laughed and stared down at the cross over my heart and his name carved into my lower belly. “It was perfect, Master.” I blinked up at him, my chest feeling weirdly fluttery. Was this love? I didn’t love the way normal people did. But maybe this was our version—blood and all. “I’m yours.” I slid my fingers over his name on my skin. “And now I’ll always remember.”
He yanked me into a rough kiss.
* * *
A few weeks later, Jules took me to apublic pool. The thought of being in water that strangers marinated in disgusted me; floating on my back in front of Jules was even worse. There were too many normals around, and the laughter from overexcited young women had me cringing. This wasn’t as relaxing as Jules had promised, and I wasn’t happy to be here.
“Why?” I asked again, knowing I would probably get the same answer as before. I wasn’t wrong.
“Because I said so.” His voice was firm, and like the obedient killer I was, I didn’t utter the grumble that sat heavy on my tongue. He’d said it would help my back to lounge in the water, and that I would need to strengthen the muscles if I wanted to fight, and while the idea made sense, I didn’t know why we had to behere.
“There are private pools around New Gothenburg.” I huffed but let him hold me under my armpits and floated in the water. I hated to admit it, but the coolness of the pool felt good on my spine, and I was weightless.
Jules chuckled, and I opened my eyes to glare at him.
“Master—”
“On your feet,” he ordered, and as nice as it was to float, I dropped my feet to the tiled bottom and stood. Water cascaded from my hair down my shoulders, and once I was standing it only came to above my nipples. Jules stepped in so close I could feel the flutter of his breath against my lips. I wanted to smell him, but the chlorine scent was too strong. “Peek over your shoulder—” He smoothed a hand down my cheek. “—at the lifeguard.”
As inconspicuously as I could, I glanced toward the lifeguard seat, high above the ground, and took note of the man sitting up there. He couldn’t be more than forty, and I supposed he was handsome, though not classically. From here, all I could see was short dark hair and a well-kept beard, and he was shirtless, giving me a view of his well-sculpted body.
“What about him?” I asked.
“Hm.” Jules curled his arms around my waist and tugged me closer, and I went, leaning against his chest. To my right, an elderly gentleman glared and huffed, and I mentally dared him to say something, but all he did was swim away from us. Damn, I wanted someone else to kill, and a homophobe would’ve been fun.
“Master?”
