Page 37 of Servitude to Serpents

She tries to answer, those big, crystalline tears cascading down her cheeks. It’s not her fault she can’t answer me, but it pisses me off all the same. I jerk her dress up, pinning the small of her back against the railing. It groans in response, a warning, and panic flares in her eyes.

I laugh, the demented sound humorless as she tries to claw away from it, claw her wayto me,her nails scoring my neck.

Chapter sixteen

To own is to…. Sway

Lydia by Highly Suspect

I’m going to fall. Oh hell, he’s going to kill me.

Panic overrides every inch of training, every rape, every time that prod was set off inside me as I struggle against him, grasping desperately to keep my weight off the railing. It makes another unholy sound as I thrash against it, the fabric of my dress tearing as the metal scrapes and digs into my back. That laugh, oh God. That quiet anger is raging in his eyes as he watches me struggle. There’s no warmth in his hazel depths, no mercy, nolife.

Suddenly, his hand leaves its place on my throat, letting me drop off the railing. My entire body threatens to crumble at his feet until a gun cocks. Tears and probably a little snot coat my face as I stare at his chest, my entire being vibrating with terror as the barrel of a handgun presses against the underside of my jaw.

All those meetings I was present for, the documents I glimpsed on his desk as I attended him, none of it set in. Every praise, my disgusting desire to serve, to survive my unpalatable reality, had numbed me to it, tohim. At some point,I’d separatedBasiliskfrom the man in front of me. It was a dangerous mistake. Master’s chest heaves as he points the gun at me, and I see him, fully, for the first time.

Not my master, the man who brings me pleasure I’d never thought possible, not the man who feeds me every meal from diamond-studded dog dishes. The man who washes my most private areas. The man who stands silently for my every waking moment. I see the man they fear. A weapons kingpin. The type of man who would sell bombs to countries ready to drop them on women and children without batting an eye. The head of theHouse of Serpents.

“You’re bad for me.” It’s all he says as he jerks his cock out of his pants. God help me, my eyes dip to it; its huge in a flushed shade of red. My core, my desire, flares to life, reminding me how fucked I am too.

Going home isn’t an option. I’m ruined. Destroyed. Owned. Entirely. Biblically. By him.

He hits me again like a brick wall, his hands punishing as he jerks, manipulates, controls. My legs are kicked apart, my dress shoved around my hips. My heart slams against my ribs as I struggle to watch the gun. Master lifts me with one arm, slamming his cock home inside me unceremoniously. I scream around my gag as I’m stretched, filled to capacity. It burns, tearing and ripping as he forces himself into me, but warmth soon takes the pain, blending and muddling it into something shattering. I’m gasping, adjusting to his girth as my ass hits the top of the railing, making me cry out again. I try to dislodge him, lurching forward, away from the drop, but I can’t.Fuck, I can’t. The railing groans, a truly demonic sound as the gun is again pressed against the pale skin of my face. “Don’t complain now. You did this to yourself.”

What? What did I do wrong?

I’m sobbing, only his hand gripping the back of my collar offering any kind of support as Master finally moves, pulling all the way out, allowing my arousal to gush after him before slamming back inside my core. Warmth bleeds throughout the tops of my thighs, worming its way to that place deep inside me as he fucks me. There’s no better word to describe what he’s doing. He’s hate fucking me,but I haven’t the slightest idea what I did to be hated so suddenly, so viscerally. There’s anger in every stroke as he slams home, stopping to grind my clit roughly against him.

I’m being punished, I know that. The terror and shame I feel comes only second to the pleasure as he rolls his hips, making his cock hit something inside me entirely new. I scream past my gag as my orgasm hits me like a runaway train, all at once and blinding. His grip on the collar tightens as mine on the rusty bar of the railing loosens. It’s a push and pull, my life in the balance. The warehouse is dark, only the faint moonlight from outside the broken windows illuminating Master’s beautiful, terrifying face.

“You wanted attention so bad, didn’t you, pet?”

I sob as his cock drives in and out of me. I’ve lost track of the gun, but I know it’s still in his hand, pressed sideways somewhere against my ribs as he grips me there. The railing screeches underneath me, mumbled apologies spilling from around the gag as Master’s face pitches in pleasure. His forehead is damp as he leans over, pressing against my shoulder, his cock slowing to a mind-numbing place. I’m building again, and I haven’t even begun to recover from the first one. “I think the railing is going to give. You don’t get to leave it until you come again.”

I gasp as the gag is suddenly released, jerked roughly from my mouth, a deep ache blooming in my jaw. “I’m sorry. Master, I’m sorry. Please. Please, I’m sorry.”

“Mutts don’t talk, they whine,” he warns.

Despite myself, a whimper leaves my throat, because everything feels divine. I’m floating on lust and desire, but that fear… God, that fear. “Please—”

“Shut the fuck up and ride my cock.”

My sex quivers at his command, pleasure bracketing me as I sob. “Y-yes, Master.”

“Fuck, your little cunt is so tight, swallowing my cock so well. I own you, don’t I?”

I nod, moaning and whimpering something in agreement, but I can’t focus on that right now. My small breasts heave, my nipples brushing the fabric taunting me as he fucks me harder, his thrusts becoming jerky and violent.

“If you ever look at someone like that again, I’ll put a bullet in their skull and make you have your way with them long after they’ve gone cold. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” I moan as I grind back against him, the railing wobbling with each thrust, but I’m lost to it now. Chasing it. Chasing him. “I’m sorry, Master. I want—”

“Want what, dog?”

“I want to be a good girl.”

“Tsk, then show me.”

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