didn’t want her scarred.
The hood he’d put on her face covered her from her nose up. The gag wasn’t a gag at all, merely package tape. This was Mara, his little pearl—he wouldn’t prep her like his marks. He merely didn’t want to hear her excuses. Her parents, her sisters, her family. She had no need of anyone but him. He was her family. He was her all and everything. No one else for him. No one else allowed for her.
“Don’t move. I don’t want you harming yourself.” He would do the harming. He would have to. “You force me to punish you, force me. How else can you learn? I pamper you, care for you, and how do you repay me? You betray me.”
Tracing the side of her breasts where they lifted from the bed with each of her breaths, he experienced a rush of pleasure. Such a surprise, her heavy, full breasts. She’d been so small when he’d brought her home when she was merely fifteen, so flat and thin, but now…now she was a Goddess. Truly, Aphrodite could not have compared.
“I may not trust you again, Mara, not after this. I may not ever trust you again, but I won’t let you go.”
No, she was his. He’d earned her. Ten years in the Navy on that filthy boat, sacrificing a sock to his jacking off, and then years of having to hunt down girls because there was no way he was letting some whore touch him. Then, after years of suffering, worrying over the people that might not understand his need to have fresh, safe and pure women, he’d found Mara—scared, frightened, and pure as snow. Two weeks he’d spent on her, soothing, calming the frightened child, making her at ease with him before he’d claimed her.
She was his. Now and forever. He removed the tape and hood but stayed crouched over her, overpowering her with his body.
She didn’t speak, but a soft sob escaped. Tears trailed down her cheeks and more drenched her eyes in pools of aquamarine.
“Now, tell me now, darling. Tell me why you would hurt me this way.”
Her lip trembled prettily. “I never…never wanted to hurt…to hurt you. I love you.”
Narrowing his eyes, he let his heavy erection settle on her hip, rubbing it crudely over her in warning. She’d not said this before. Always, before, she’d made excuses, a sick mother, needing to talk to her sister, all excuses.
“I wasn’t leaving. I wasn’t. I promise. I never would leave. Please, a call. I promise. I never lie, never lie to you.” Her soft Russian accent made him soften his anger. She only let her British accent go when she was upset. He hated that she was upset. Crying.
“Who? Who were you calling?”
“My sister.”
No hesitation. He took the hood off completely and stared down at her, still angry but slowly able to think more clearly. He needed to come again. If he came again, he would think more clearly. His dick was throbbing and needing more.
“Suck me off.” It wasn’t a request, and she knew it.
Sniffing, she nodded slightly, still cautious with him.
Good. This was good. She would bring him clarity. He needed clarity. He had a target to find and take out.
Cupping her face, he took her mouth, showing her who was in charge before breaking the kiss. “Say it again.”
Pink lips quivering under him, she did. “I love you, Eric. Please, I never want to be parted from you.”
He nodded, not having heard this before either. She was his. She was his and knew it. Could she still need him? “You’re mine. I don’t want you calling them again.”
She sniffed but nodded. A tear leaked out.
“Say it, Mara, convince me. I don’t believe you love me.”
Something like shock filled her beautiful eyes, then more tears. Her face screwed up tight and she sobbed. “No, no, I love you. You’re my everything…everything good…everything good in my life, Eric.”
He softened. Every ounce of anger dimmed. She wasn’t faking. She never had been. He knew she loved him—he was her everything. She grew more upset, worrying him enough that he gentled her
Learning to Kill: Stories