Page 158 of Master of My Heart

Chapter Fifty-Two

All I see is white. A thick fog. I feel its warmth surrounding me, soothing my lungs and fear. A dim yellow light appears in the distance and I walk toward it. The whiteness fades as the light draws near. After a few minutes, I find myself in a small room. Sconces mounted on the dark-paneled walls allow just enough light for me to see that the room is empty, save a long wooden bench along one wall. The cold stone floor under my feet contrasts sharply with the warm air.

Naked, I stand in the center of the room, wondering how I got there and what I should do. After a moment, I sit on the bench and wait for... something. I hug my knees to my chest and try to push aside the growing fear in my chest.

The door opens and a man walks in, holding a riding crop. He has long, white-blond hair and wears only a pair of black leather pants. His toned chest is bare.

I press my back against the wall, hoping he won’t notice me.

He looks right at me, though, icy-blue eyes boring into my own as he walks toward me. “There is nowhere to go, Sabrina,” he says in a low, even voice.

He stops right in front of me, placing the end of the riding crop under my chin and tipping my head up. I stare into his eyes. “You’ve been a naughty girl, Sabrina,” he continues in an almost hypnotic tone. “You ran away from me.”

Though his tone is soft, I hear the anger in his voice.

He moves the crop gently down my neck and onto my shoulder. The leather caresses my skin. I close my eyes as he moves it across my clavicle. “You like the crop.” It’s a statement, not a question.

He trails it over my knees, down my shins to my feet, then back up along my inner thighs. I moan softly as he caresses me. My arms loosen their grip on my legs and my hands drop to the bench. My knees open slightly. He smiles.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet, then helps me stand on top of the bench. His hands slide around to my ass and he caresses the flesh. He brings his knee up to the bench, resting it in front of his body, and leans forward to dip his tongue into my swollen folds.

“Mmmm, Sabrina. As sweet as always,” he says softly. His tongue dips deeper as he presses his hands against my rear, making me flex my hips forward.

I sigh as he licks and caresses me with his tongue. He pulls at my right leg, bending it at the knee and placing my foot on his shoulder. I’m completely open to him. My fingers scratch at the wall behind me, searching for something to hold onto as he feasts on my flesh. Nipping, biting, sucking, licking. I moan and cry out as he makes me come over and over.

“Yes, Sabrina,” he says, looking up at me, his eyes bright. “Give me your pleasure. Give me your powers.” He resumes his feasting and I scream out in ecstasy. He is consuming me, taking me into himself. I want to give myself to him for he is worthy of me.

I whimper as he pulls away suddenly. His eyes glitter as he pulls me down to the bench, pressing me to lay down. He moves my hands above my head and spreads my legs with his knee. I feel him at the entrance of my body and he leans down to kiss me, the sweetness of my essence on his tongue.

As he pushes forward, he leans back, eyes boring into mine once more.

“Mine,” he growls hypnotically as he enters my body. “Always mine, Sabrina.”

I want to fight him, even though his thrusts feel incredible. Something deep inside resists his intrusion, but he leans down and kisses me once more. I succumb. Over and over, he presses himself deep into my body. I moan loudly and cry out as I come. A moment later, he lets out a low moan, then pauses to catch his breath.

He smiles and stands, looking down at me with the same glittering eyes.

I struggle to move, but my body won’t cooperate.

*****

Sunday morning, Chase was up early. He went for a jog along the river, then headed back to his condo to work out in his home gym.

In the middle of a bench press set, his phone rang from across the room. He ignored it, but when it immediately started ringing again, he carefully placed the weight back into its cradle, grabbed his towel to wipe his sweaty face, and hurried to his phone. It stopped ringing as he reached for it, but he saw it was Richard. When it started ringing again, he hit the speaker button. His face dripped with sweat and he didn’t want to push a piece of plastic up against it.

“Richard? What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen the news?” he asked.

“No. Why?”

“Aiden Lang is dead.”

“What?” Chase stared at the phone in shock. “Dead? How?”

“You didn’t have anything to do with it?”

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