Page 61 of Valentine's Slave

Standing up, I undo her restraints.

“Reward over,” I announce. “Find the next chocolate.” My voice is cold, and it takes Ava a few seconds to get off the massage table. I grab the whip off the floor and snap her withit again. I should use it on myself as a punishment every time I imagine her sassy little self curled up against me every night. These thoughts have got to go.

Ava’s breathing is still rapid as she makes her way back to the ground, and I focus on her hips moving from side to side. Watching her crawl is perfect. Her tits are hanging down, about to pop out of that ribbon bow at any second, and that ass is looking all too inviting, wrapped up in G-string and fishnet.

I hardly notice when Ava finds another chocolate, hidden on the ground by the mirror until she pulls off the wrapper and pops it into her mouth. But I’m on her in a second.

“Did I say you could eat it?” My hands are on her throat, but she already swallowed.

The smile dies on her lips when she hears my tone, though I also sense her excitement. She likes defying me, seeing what I’ll do. And tonight—I’ll do things to her I’ve never done.

“Now, you’re going to be punished,” I growl.

I pull off my pants and boxers, and as soon as they’re on the floor, I flip Ava onto her back. My cock is pulsing again as I kneel over her and spread her stockinged legs. I push past that shiny pink heart at her crotch and slide my fingers into her wetness.

“Open your mouth,” I order, pushing my cock past her parted lips as my fingers plunge between her legs.

I muffle Ava’s whimper with my cock, and heat explodes in my body as she closes her lips around my shaft. I go harder on her than before, thrusting into her mouth as I finger-fuck her pussy. I’m on a cloud, and everything else melts away except for our writhing bodies and the swirling heat. Nothing else matters: not me, not her, not the past nor the future, and I find my sweet bliss in this power and release, wrapped up in her vulnerability and helplessness. She’s the perfect drug, even though I’m sober, and I lose myself in the high.

At the sound of Ava’s screeching, my eyes fly open. She makes three distinct distress sounds in a row, which was what I told her to use in place of the safe word if her mouth were covered.

I yank my fingers from her pussy and my cock from her mouth. Pulling off her blindfold, I meet her crystal-blue eyes for one, long second. Her gaze is wide with fear and shock as she gasps for breath, her eyes red, and I’m hit with what just happened. I fell back into my old ways, using sex and sadism as a drug to the point that I momentarily lost awareness of her and unintentionally choked her with my cock. Shame hits me like a tsunami, along with the flashbacks.

My vision begins to reel as my mind drags up another set of innocent blue eyes, belonging to one of the many girls I fucked after Emilia’s death in my boyish efforts to bury my pain and responsibility. I was so lost in my own rage and frustration that I almost killed that girl with my very hands as I choked her out while fucking her from behind. She was into the choking, but I lost control of myself and lost awareness of her. It was similar to right now, except that I didn’t hear her, and I almost didn’t stop in time.

I blink away the image, coming back to Ava’s scared eyes. I’m ashamed of myself, but I’m still furious at her. I’m feeling things for her, and I can’t stop. I tried to turn off my romantic and turn on my sadist, but nothing can stop what’s already started to grow in the cold, dead ground of my heart. When it comes to Ava, I can’t fucking stop. I’m becoming dependent on her, just like I was with Emilia. I’m doing the very thing I vowed I would never do again, and I hate myself for it.

Pulling the blindfold back onto Ava’s face, I block out her gaze that seems to pierce into the very depth of my soul. I grab her arms and half drag her across the floor to the St. Andrews Cross where I snatch the handcuffs out of the wicker box at the side and cuff her to the foot of the cross. I’m about to storm out ofthe room, but I pause, grabbing my water bottle from the floor beside the door and slam it down beside her head.

“If you want to drink.” I spit out the words as I turn on my heels and walk out.

14

Valentino

Idon’t stop until I’m in the bathroom suite in the master bedroom running cold water, which I splash onto my face.

You’re a fake, the voice in my head taunts, the one that used to rule me, the one that nearly convinced me to take my own life a few months after I lost my family and almost killed that girl.You say you’re healthy, sober, stoic, and yet, it’s all a lie. You still get high on the most powerful drug yet, enhanced by its scarcity—once a year of dirty, sacred sex. What a joke. You’re more fucked up than you’ve ever been, because only such a demented ritual could keep you from losing yourself in another toxic relationship, needing a woman until it nearly drove you insane. And yet, look—you still need one. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. She’s got you listening to metal music and driving her to Queens. You’re an addict to what kills you, just like you were before. You’re still the same, still a failure.

I shake my head, trying to focus on my breath, but I’m so riled up from the sex and the scare that the voice won’t stop.You’rethe reason your wife and son are dead. You nearly strangled another girl to death sating your own needs. Once a greedy taker, always a greedy taker. All you do is spread pain like a disease. That’s why you can’t be with anyone for real. Your selfish ritual is the only existence you deserve, and it’s the curse that you will repeat forever.

I’m shaking. Walking back into the bedroom, I look down, and my cock is still hard, still slick with her saliva. I want her more than anything, but I won’t. I refuse to depend on another human just to let her down, just to look into her eyes as she dies. What I just saw in Ava’s eyes was warning enough.

I punch the pillows until I’m panting. I close my eyes and try to meditate, but Ava’s gaze keeps flashing back.

And now you’re just a coward, the voice goes on.Here you are hiding in your bedroom while she’s lying bound on the floor. You’re doing exactly what you’re always done, running away.

More fury rakes through me. I am not a coward, but I know better than to fight with that voice. I’m walking now, and my feet take me back to the dungeon, where I find Ava lying facedown on the ground where I left her, hands cuffed above her head, her breathing softer now. If Ava were catching feelings, it’s time that she sees the real me. I’m not apologizing for who I am. Tonight is our last night, and I’ll be as dark as I like. I’ll scare the shit out of her, and she’ll never want to look at me again. That’ll just make my job easier. Because I will never be with anyone.

She lifts her head when she hears me, and I note her shoulders tense. I crouch beside her, my eyes gliding over the curves of her hips and ass, meaty and delicious beneath the fishnet stockings, her thighs, thick and strong, pressed together. She’s a masterpiece, and she’s even prettier when she’s scared. Maybe she’ll cry for me. The sadist in me latches on to her innocence,yearning to taint and twist it until she screams. She doesn’t know this side of me, but she will.

“Get on your hands and knees.” I speak into her ear, and I hear her suck in her breath. As she obeys, I put a hand on her shoulder, kneading her muscles to relax her strain. I slide my hand down her nearly naked back and rove it under her to squeeze one breast and then the other. She whimpers as I push the ribbon aside and twist her nipple between my finger and thumb, and the little nub hardens under my touch. I chuckle. My horny little slave is getting turned on all over again. She seems to like it when I talk down to her, when I treat her like a dirty, little whore that needs to pay.

I glide my hand along her abdomen, and I feel her tense up.

“Don’t hold your core in,” I command. “Breathe.”

Ava hesitates and then relaxes, and her diaphragm expands the way it naturally should.