God, stop.
I pressed my lips together. A slight tenderness existed from his attentions.
This time, I fought the urge to reply, but he read the way my tongue licked the redness he’d graced me with.
I shivered as he swayed upward, removing the temptation of his kiss.
The talk of firsts and the indescribable way he spoke about them shoved aside my circumstances and made me wish.
Wish for a life to indulge in firsts. Rather than wish for death to end them.
His finger moved again, leaving my mouth to trail along my chin, neck, to my breasts. Cupping one, he murmured, “What about here, Pim? Has anyone sucked so fucking hard on your nipple it swells and stings? Anyone bit until you cried for mercy or clamped toys on you, making you obey all commands?” His touch rolled my nipple, squeezing just a little.
No…
My breathing turned into a gasp as his fingertip followed the soft curve of my breast, to my ribcage, waist, finally tracing my belly button. His intense gaze hinted he wished to touch me between my legs, but he wouldn’t.
Caught up in the insane web we’d woven, I trembled as he said, “I wanted to give you another first. I wanted to make you come. I see now it would’ve been impossible for you because you’ve never felt true pleasure.”
His forehead furrowed. “There are so many firsts to explore with your pussy, Pim. Have you ever felt a man’s tongue inside you? His mouth on your clit? What about his fingers so fucking deep inside you, you forget how to be human and become an animal instead?”
The tightening in my limbs layered me with yet more sultry seduction.
“I want to give you so many firsts.” He leaned toward me, his eyes hooded, his mouth only millimetres from mine. “I want to—”
Disaster struck.
The door exploded inward.
Shrapnel clattered as hinges buckled and wood panels splintered.
No!
Tony’s grunts ripped through the silence as he destroyed the entryway with a baseball bat—demolishing the one thing protecting us.
Master A stood behind him, barking instructions.
My heart sprinted from the tentative wandering in paradise and slammed back into its prison.
No, no, no!
That was why he’d given us so much time. Why Mr. Prest had the privilege of lying beside me unhurt.
Master A called for backup.
“What the fuck?” Mr. Prest launched himself upright, his body sprung and ready for a fight. “Get the hell out. I’m not done.”
I shrivelled as Master A stalked into the room. In his hand, he held a gun.
I’d never seen him with the black revolver, but the way he wielded it—with confidence and precision—said he wasn’t a stranger to such things.
His gaze leapt between my nakedness and Mr. Prest’s trouser-clad form. “Did you have fun fucking my slave?” He cocked his head condescendingly, glaring at me. “Did you behave, Pim?”
I looked down, hiding behind sleep-tangled hair.
Fuck off, you mutant!
The usual proverbial sword and shield I fought with had been stupidly abandoned during Mr. Prest’s wicked kiss.
I didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. To live in hatred and pain anymore.
Nonsensical questions ran riot as I did my best to sink into mute protection.
How long had Mr. Prest let me rest all while tracing the sweetest strokes on my back? How much time had we wasted that could’ve been spent kissing before Master A arrived to tear us apart?
It doesn’t matter.
It’s over.
I was on my own again. Like always.
Mr. Prest sucked in a breath. “Did you not hear me? I. Said. I’m. Not. Done.”
“Oh, yes you fucking are.” Master A turned brick-red with rage as his hand trembled around the gun. “Get out. I want that yacht, Mr. Prest, but I’ve paid you more than enough. Leave!”
My shoulders slumped as a crystal-clear conclusion hit me. My plans to use Mr. Prest to free me vanished. He would never free me. He had a contract with my owner, and that contract trumped whatever silly kiss we’d just enjoyed.
Don’t ask him for more.
It would be your fault if he died.
Tears stung my eyes as Master A stalked forward. He barely looked at me, obsessed at kicking this trespasser from his house.
The fact he’d waited for Tony to act as support reaffirmed what a spineless coward he was. He couldn’t stomach facing Mr. Prest on his own.
The muzzle of the gun came up, pointing squarely at his dragon tattoo.
Memories of Mr. Prest telling me the murder count of my cowardly owner sent catastrophic energy into my legs. I knew my fate. I accepted it. But I wouldn’t let another bleed for me—even if he wasn’t innocent of crime.
Mr. Prest was the only man who’d been nice to me.
I won’t watch him die.
Instinct controlled my body. Impulse overrode sanity and submission. I did something I’d never done. And I didn’t do it for me.
I did it for him.
Dashing forward, I placed myself in front of the thief who’d kissed me. In front of the gun. In front of whatever would happen to me because of my bold stupidity.