Page 75 of Violent Cravings

He nods. "Good girl."

I wait for a few moments to give him a chance to reply, but he doesn't say another word. He just looks at me, the blue of his eyes filled with sadness. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he's quietly asking for me to help him. But help him with what?

"Master, I know that our time is up," I add. "It's time for me to go home. You said so yourself."

I flinch in surprise when he reaches out for me, his hand closing around my upper arms with such violence that I groan in pain, casting him a reproachful look.

"You're not going anywhere," he whispers. "You're mine, doll."

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words to say to him.

"But I need to leave," I insist. "Layla is waiting for me and-"

"You're not going anywhere!" he repeats, louder this time. His voice is so pervasive that it incites more fear within me.

My heart is racing, chased by fear. I try not to let it show, but he has come too close to me for that to work. He sees and knows everything. His eyes wander to my trembling lower lip when I speak again.

"Please, master," I utter, suppressing tears from my watering eyes. "Please speak to me. Please tell me what is going on."

His eyes widen, and for a split second I can see a clarity returning to them that has been lacking for too long.

"I've lost, doll," he whispers. "I've lost myself in you."

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