Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
"Please," I beg. "Don't leave now. Not yet. I'm…" I sigh. "I need you, Jino. I need you to be you so that I can be me. And I know that's very selfish. I understand that I'm being very clingy right now, but if you only understood how much I want this. How much I crave it. And okay, I'll admit it. Giovanni scared me a little. He did. It hurt. I wanted to safeword, I did."
"And you didn't because he made you feel guilty about using it."
"No," I correct him quickly. "I didn't safeword because it started to feel good, Jino. It started to make me want him more. Not… you, know. Emotionally. But…" I sigh.
"He made you wet."
I nod. "Yes. It's embarrassing how wet he made me. How much I wanted him to fuck me in that moment."
"Is that why you just begged me to get you off?"
I shrug a little. "It's not that I don't want you. I do. But the need in me, Jino. It was overwhelming when Giovanni put me to bed. And then, when I woke up to you? Your hard body, your arms around me. Well…"
"You would've taken any one in that moment, and I was just there."
"No. Absolutely not. I knew you'd fulfill me. I knew you'd… take care of me. All my needs are met by my monster and my Master."
He looks at me for a long time, thinking. I'm just about to burst from the suspense, when finally he says, "I'll treat you like every other sub if you do something for me."
Hope flares. Desperate and pathetic and absolutely humiliating.
"What? Anything. I'll do anything."
His hand moves to my chin. Forces my face up until I can't look anywhere but directly into those calculating eyes.
We stare at each other.
The moment stretches. Pulls taut.
"You need to understand the power dynamics here," he says quietly. "Bavga and Moretti—we're related, but we're not equals. Giovanni's family has connections, resources, respect. Mine runs docks and small-time operations. I can defy him only so much before there are repercussions."
I blink. Try to follow the thread. "Okay..."
"I need more freedom." The pause after those words feels weighted. Intentional. His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "With you."
Oh.
Oh.
Understanding crashes over me.
"You want to fuck me."
It's not a question.
Jino nods once. Clean. Precise. The gesture carries the weight of ritual—a benediction of sorts, though one stripped of mercy. "Giovanni has forbidden it," he continues, his voice remaining level and professional, as though we're discussing contract terms rather than the violation of a fundamental rule. The detachment in his tone somehow makes it worse, more real. Like this desire of his exists completely separate from emotion, from impulse—it's a calculated want, catalogued and sanctioned by some internal system only he understands.
"Fingers are fine. Other things. Tools of the trade. The crop, the feather, the baton—all acceptable within the parameters he's established." His grip on my chin tightens incrementally, not painful but undeniable, forcing my awareness into the single point of contact between his competent hand and my sensitive skin.
"But what I really want—" The question hangs suspended between us, and I feel my breath catch in anticipation. His eyes—those ice-blue, predatory eyes—hold mine with absolute certainty. "Is to feel your pussy around my cock. To know what it's like when you're truly mine, not just performing obedience for his satisfaction."
Heat floods through me. The crude language—the exact thing I've been begging for—delivered with that calm, methodical tone.
This is Master.
Finally.
"I want to fuck you until you forget your own name," he says, each word deliberate and measured, landing like a physical touch. "I want to edge you for hours—keep you right there between pleasure and agony, suspended in that space where you can't think, can't speak, can't do anything but exist in the sensation I'm creating. I want to tie you down and use your body however I see fit. Want to own every response, every involuntary gasp and shudder."
He pauses, letting that sink in. His thumb traces the curve of my jaw with deliberate slowness.
"I want to make you come so many times you beg me to stop," he continues, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "Beg me with actual words, not just that pathetic whimpering. And then I want to make you come again anyway, because your begging means nothing if I haven't decided you've earned mercy. Your body will betray your mind over and over."
My pulse thunders in my ears.
"All the while," Jino says softly, "I will forbid your reactions. No sounds unless I permit them. No movement unless I command it. I will demerit you for every failure—and you will fail, because the rules will be impossible to follow. I will punish you in my own way by forcing you to flail against expectations so unreasonable, so deliberately cruel, that suffering becomes the only possible outcome. You'll break against them, and then I'll rebuild you in whatever image serves me."