Page 69 of Servitude to Serpents

And I need him more than I need the air in my lungs.

I can bethem, the carnation girls.

My blonde hair falls over my shoulders in waves as I hurry across and down the hall, dragging in a deep breath before I toss the doors to his office open. I don’t look at him, not yet. But abruptly, the classical piano he was listening to ends with the slamming of his laptop. I drop to my knees, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for him to order me away.

I crawl to him.

It’s a physical thing, my anxiety, looming over me like the blade of a guillotine. My master alone holding the cord capable of inflicting irreparable damage, but he doesn’t, not yet. I can feel his eyes on me, and the moment they leave, the sound of rustling papers picks up, filling my chest with a dangerous level of hope. My mouth waters with my first inhale of him, sage and oak tickling, taunting my senses. When I reach him, my breath is louder than anything. I can smell the liquor he’s drinking so strongly, I can nearly feel the burn in my throat.

I take my position beside him, leaning forward until my forehead thuds against his thigh, keeping my face hidden against him. Where we are now feels so much like the first day. I wait in silence for my sentencing, and he’s in no rush to dish it out.

“Get on with it. Certainly it must be pressing, if you were so bold as to burst into my office when you’re meant to be sleeping.”

I swallow hard, willing the whooshing in my ears to quiet. “You’ve been in here all day… I- I haven’t seen you.”

He sighs, but I can hear the tension in his voice as he lifts his glass. “And?”

“Master, I—"Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.“I’ve beenalone—"

“So, you burst in here because you need attention, is that it?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Please, Sir.”

“I would love to give it to you, Pup, but I’m working. Dismiss yourself.”

My heart goes from a rapid pounding to nothing at all in the space of a sentence. My lip trembles before I clamp down on it with my teeth. The pain roots me, steeling me as the taste of copper tickles my tongue. My legs wobble, but only for a moment as I shove myself to a stand, lifting my eyes to meet thunderous, daring hazel ones.

I stare at him as his brow slowly hikes, his voice a growl, a warning. “Kneel.”

I reach forward instead, snagging his glass from his hand before throwing back the contents, doing my best to mask a face of absolute disgust. How he’s drinking it, I have no clue; it's one step down from paint thinner. He watches me, waiting for me to finish. I force myself to swallow the harsh liquid before setting the glass back down…right on the papers he was working on, eyeing the wet rim that’ll mar whatever document.

He nods, and the moment I meet his eyes again, I know I’ve won.

He spins his chair to face me, the look in his eyes nothing less than sinister, his calm and collected version of it. I don’t want him calm and collected. I wanthim.

His violence.

Hisrage.

I want him to make it hurt. To make me feel something that isn’t…this.

I take a step back as he stands, towering over me. His darkness is like a shadow that blots out everything. My hands twitch with the urge to smooth out the darkening bags under his eyes. His stubble is more grown in than I’ve seen it. “Kneel.”

I want to obey. God, it's taking everything I have not to.

He nods, reaching out and letting the pads of his fingers tickle the base of my throat. My nipples peak, my bare breasts desperate, throbbing for his touch, and he gives it to me, paper-light grasping on my neck. “Very well.”

I yelp as his touch changes, his hand tightening suddenly. In an instant, my head is light, my knees wobbling. “You think I haven’t seen you? Sneakingaround, waiting outside my office like a lost fucking puppy?”

My breath is coming, but he’s robbing me of everything else. I sway on my feet, my hands flying out to steady myself in his arm. “You think I hadn’t noticed how desperate you are for me? Lying in bed at night, letting your hand stroke your neglected cunt.” The laugh he lets out is chilling, or at least, it should be. The room wobbles, and Master fades in and out of focus as he chokes me.

I open my mouth to say—what? I have no clue, but it doesn’t matter. Words evade me, wither away as his free hand finds the soaked skin of my inner thighs, gathering up my arousal. “I knew you were desperate for it, but I never thought you’d want my cock so horribly, you’d bebad. Is that what you are now? A few days without my constant guidance, and you’ve turned into a bad dog?” My body betrays the wrenched feeling in my chest, my core burning as he brings my arousal to his lips, cleaning it off his fingers.

“Tsk. Fucking pitiful.” He wrenches my mouth open, spitting in it, letting the taste of alcohol, him, and my arousal blend into a cacophony of flavor I can’t swallow.

Tears well in my eyes as my awareness evades me, and like clockwork, his grip loosens, making the hindered blood rush back frantically, trying to resupply my brain with oxygen. His lips are taunting, his stubble tickling my cheek. “When I say kneel, youkneel,” he growls, his voice like an omen as he releases me, letting me fall jarringly to my knees at his feet. I gasp, whimpering as I try to get my barring.

“What are you?” He asks calmly, lording over me just where I wanted him.

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