Page 93 of Volatile Waters

“Stop this.”

“—that I experience the same abuse—”

“Wolf,” I growled. “I mean it.”

“—as all those poor victims. I am a sold slave, after all.”

Racing forward to him, I begged, “Please stop.” I dropped to my knees, desperately clutching his beautiful face, forcing him to look up at me. “Please.”

“Then set them free.”

I slammed my eyes shut, refusing to let go of his face. “Impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

Not opening my eyes, I kissed his lips. “Do not do this to me.”

He didn’t return the affection. “It is you who have done this.”

I opened my eyes to see his dead ones. So, I tried to kiss him again. “Wolf, kiss me.”

“Yes, Master.” His lips started to move in a robotic fashion.

Shaking my head, I pleaded, “No. Not like this. How you used to.”

Wolf delivered a kiss that was so outstanding, I melted. He melted with me. With him now lying on top of me, we kissed like ravaged animals fighting for their last meal. That is what it was—our very last kiss as Master and Slave.

Pushing his weight up by his palms on my chest, he quietly said, “Until you release them all, you will only have the slave in me. You may fuck me or even force my body to respond, but know that I will always hate you for it.” He got off me, then took the slave sitting position again, eyes down. “I may be yours in body, but not in my heart… Master.”