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  So would he.

  His voice rolled over me, lifting me as high as the pain. He groaned like a man feasting after nearly starving to death. I knew that feeling all too well. He’d fed my emptiness for hours earlier, making sure to fill me up with all the pain and pleasure I could hold before he’d carried me to his bed.

  The least I could do was let him feast to his heart’s content. Even if I had to bleed.

  Because he hadn’t made a single sound of pleasure until he tasted blood. Once my skin gave way beneath his teeth, only then had he given me the beginning of his pleasure. I could only imagine how rough and raw his shout of release would be. Really, that was the only thing holding me back, keeping me from letting everything go and drifting away into nothingness.

  I wanted him to come inside me.

  He moved up higher, hovering over me on his hands and knees so he could reach my neck. Unbuckling the collar with harsh, quick jerks, he threw it aside so he could grip my throat in his jaws. Gently, he pressed his teeth ever so lightly into that fragile skin.

  I wanted his bite there. Everyone would see it. It would look so bad against my pale skin, bruised and raw and ugly, so obviously not a hickey. No one would be able to look at that mark and think I was okay. I’m not okay.

  “Stop me, kitten.” He rubbed his mouth back and forth, scraping my throat with his teeth. “Give me what I need.”

  One big hand smoothed down my flank to cup my groin. He shuddered against me, giving me more of his weight. His cock ground against my thigh, hot and hard and so thick it was going to stretch me even though I was more than ready for him.

  “I want to tear you up.” He bit at my throat, his teeth sharpening each word. “I want to fuck you until you scream. Give it to me, Ranay. Give it to me!”

  I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t get my brain to work. The wires of communication had shorted out, nerves overloaded by his skillful manipulation. My whole body shook with effort.

  His teeth clamped harder on my throat, hard enough to compress my windpipe. I thought about him plunging deep inside me, out of control and wild. My back arched, my hands straining to reach him. I wanted to fist my hands in his hair and hold his head close to the end.

  “Ranay.” His voice was so ragged that I barely recognized it. “Don’t. Don’t let me...”

  Don’t let me hurt you too much?

  It sounded too close to making him beg for me to do something, and no good slave would ever make the master beg. Never. The master’s will and need always superseded the slave’s. I can’t be his slave if I can’t give him what he wants.

  “Red,” I finally said, barely more than a whisper.

  He reared back, his weight leaving me entirely. My sweaty skin instantly chilled. I forced more volume into my voice despite the rawness in my throat, desperation tearing me apart. “Red, please! Red!”

  With a jerk, one leg was freed, then the other. He shoved my knees back high and tight to my body and surged into me without hesitation. Too big, too hard, but I loved it. I needed it. He fought through the tightness of my body until he was buried deep. With a grunt of satisfaction, he lowered his chest to mine, covering me head to toe with his body, his hands wrapped around my wrists.

  For a moment, he laid there on top of me, as if he needed the connection too. One body. One heart. One mind. But then he started to pull out of me, making me squirm and clutch at him with my thighs in an attempt to keep him.

  He laughed deep and wicked. “You might have given me your safeword, but I’m still the Master, am I not?”

  I bit my lip as inch after glorious inch slid out of me, but I didn’t voice any argument. Especially when he unbuckled my hands. I immediately reached toward his chest, determined to tug on that delightful ring he’d so thoughtfully provided for my entertainment.

  Capturing both of my hands in one of his, he leaned back and somehow managed to flip me over beneath him, as quickly and easily as he’d taken me to the floor in the kitchen.

  “That’s better.” He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled me back, while giving my ass a sharp enough slap that I scrambled to my hands and knees. Keeping my neck arched, he slid into me, bearing down on my back so I had to work to keep us both up off the mattress. “I said rough and mean, didn’t I?”

  “And violent,” I reminded him with a gasp. “Is this violent?”

  He chuckled against my ear. “Not yet.”

  This position always made sex more intense for me. I felt it more, like it made my clit stand out better, adding to the whole stimulation. And damn him for somehow sensing it, because he kept his pace slow and deep, deliberately tugging my hair and shifting me around until I gasped each time he thrust into me.

  But that wasn’t enough for him. Now that he’d found that sweet spot, he used his forearm to drive my shoulders down to the mattress. He gripped my nape with his hand, pinning my neck, completely immobilizing me. Ass high, head trapped, it was exactly how he’d used my mouth this morning.

  He pushed deep, so deep I tried to get away. I couldn’t help it. He was just too damned big, especially in this position. The pressure inside me made me groan and instinctively recoil. I couldn’t go anywhere, though. Not with his weight on my back. I flailed with my hands, suddenly realizing that at some point he’d freed them, but I couldn’t get an effective blow, not behind me.

  I settled on digging my nails into his thighs.

  In response, he dropped his weight fully on me. It forced him deeper, his thrust no longer pleasure but pain, striking that internal barrier inside me so hard I whimpered.

  “There it is.”

  He pulled back and thrust again, so hard, so deep, like he was trying to push my ass up over my head and flip me in a somersault. Each blow thudded inside me, reverberating through my body to explode in my skull. I’d come so many times already I didn’t think it would be physically possible to do it again. Without dying. Surely this was going to kill me.

  A sweet haze weighed me down, filling me up, rolling and ebbing like the sea with each thrust. I’d never been so full, so completely sated. He filled every corner of my mind and heart and soul.

  Even if I never came again the rest of my life, I would smile every time I thought about this night. The night I gave myself to him.

  Forever.

  His thrusts became uneven, his breath rasping in and out of his lungs. Now I had his sweat, his breath, his body and finally his pleasure as he let out a roar of ultimate possession.

  No, there it is. Smiling, I let go and slid into darkness. There’s the sound he makes when he comes.

  Chapter Eleven

  He bathed me like I was completely helpless, holding my head up out of the water, lifting me out and cradling me on his lap while he dried me. And I let him. I needed the care, because if left to my own will, I would have simply passed out in his bed until New Year’s Day. I certainly wanted to sleep that long, and it was probably going to take days before the bruises faded.

  The bites looked awful, swollen and angry and dark.

  I’d never seen anything more wondrous on my little subbie body in my entire life. I’d love to snap a few pictures and share them with my online friends. They’d get it. In fact, they’d probably die with jealous admiration.

  Even better, he seemed to treasure each mark as much as I did. He kissed each bite reverently and smeared antibiotic cream on the ones where his teeth had broken the skin. But he didn’t look ashamed. Or reproachful. He relished those marks—and what they stood for—as much as I did.

  Because he’s my Master. The one who understands me inside and out. Who gave me exactly what I needed without hesitation, and demanded what he needed in return.

  Nestled against him in bed with Sheba curled against my back, I fought the drowsiness threatening to claim me. I wanted to stay awake and remember this night, our first night. I wanted to catalogue every moment, so I could lie awake in the future and feel the silver ring pressing against my cheek. Remember the heat of his bod
y driving away the chill. His arms holding me tight.

  “I have to leave the day after tomorrow on another trip,” he whispered against my temple.

  I stiffened against him, my eyes flying wide open. I didn’t voice any protest, though. I already knew how often he traveled based on how many times he boarded Sheba. In fact, if I’d bothered to look at the calendar at work, I probably would have noticed the upcoming trip.

  I have all day tomorrow. I’ll soak up as much of him as I can.

  Though now I hated the thought of losing even two hours of precious time while forced to share him with my family.

  “How long?” I finally asked, pleased that my voice didn’t quiver.

  He still tightened his arm around me, drawing me up so I lay on his chest. Funny, now I could see his face perfectly. I glanced at the window and saw the full moon rising in the sky, shining through the blinds.

  “Just a few days.”

  It might as well be years. Each hour without him would feel like a death sentence.

  “I’ll be home for New Year’s Eve, and then I’ll fly out again the first of the year.” He gentled his voice even more, holding my gaze. “That trip will be longer. Ten days.”

  My chin trembled. I tried to think of something to say to cover up how wrecked I was on the inside. “I guess you’ll have to put more marks on me to bring in the New Year, so I’ll have something to look at until you’re home.”

  He traced my lips with his finger and then wound his hand in my hair, slowly drawing me down to him. I went willingly, though I was afraid he’d taste my tears on my tongue.

  “My brave little slave. Don’t you know that you can’t hide anything from me?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the tears to dry up. “I’ll be okay. You don’t want a 24/7 slave.”

  “No, I don’t,” he agreed, rubbing his lips back and forth against mine. “But I never said you couldn’t stay here if you want.”

  I pulled back enough to look into his face. “I could stay here?” Where I can smell your pillow and touch your things and dream about this night in your bed?

  “Of course. Sheba would be more than happy to keep you company and you’ll be safe with her until I come home.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

  He smiled and tucked my head against his neck. “I knew you could. I’ll have a few rules for you to follow, but I’m sure a smart, obedient sub like you won’t have any problems at all.”

  I tried to lift my head so I could glare at him, but he refused to let me move. “What kind of rules?”

  “Oh, easy ones,” he replied with a smug laugh that made me dig my elbow into his rib. He didn’t even grunt. “You’ll see. I’ll leave a list that you can only read after I’m gone.”

  I could well imagine what kind of rules my devious Master might devise to keep me occupied in his absence. “And if I don’t?”

  He worked his mouth down to my ear through my mess of hair. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”

  Grinning happily, I closed my eyes and promptly went to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’d never imagined the one master who could punish me into full submission would have such a sense of humor. When I’d casually grumbled about the wrinkled remains of the spruce sweater I’d planned to wear today—and how everyone always remarked about my dark clothes—Charlie refused to let me wear even a splash of color at my ears. Black sweater, black jeans and, yep, black boots completed my ensemble.

  And his.

  Sam’s eyes practically bulged out of her head as we walked through my parents’ door at exactly 3:00 p.m. dressed in very appropriate goth attire. He even wore a long black trench coat and his motorcycle boots that had so intrigued me.

  Too bad they can’t see the tats and piercing.

  Mom went to hug me, but hesitated, holding on to my shoulders and looking into my eyes. Looking for something to worry about. Assessing whether she needs to ask me about my pills.

  Refusing to let anything bring me down on this, my best Christmas ever, I smiled broadly and hugged her. Then I introduced Charlie to everyone, including my brother and his girlfriend, Brittany—not tall and blonde and model perfect as I’d assumed.

  Charlie shook everyone’s hands, but instead of sitting down on the couch to visit, he quietly asked my father for a private conversation.

  My big, burly father, who stood a foot taller and outweighed him by nearly one hundred pounds. The father who frowned at the black clothes, who knew enough about my past to turn a hard look on the man I chose to bring home.

  He’d never said anything about wanting to talk to Dad. Without me.

  I sat by Sam and tried to concentrate on their conversation as the two most important men in my life disappeared into Dad’s office.

  “Wow, Sis, I can’t believe you showed up on time.”

  Irritated, I gave her a small, tight smile. “Miracles do happen. It’s Christmas after all.”

  Evidently Michael had been filled in enough prior to my arrival to be suspicious about any man I was dating. “So what’s up with this guy?”

  I’d put up with his big brother preachy attitude all my life, so I wasn’t going to let him get under my skin. Not today. “Charlie? What about him?”

  “Where did you meet him? How long have you known him? Hasn’t anyone else asked you these questions, Ranay?”

  All those questions rang like accusations in my head. What kind of freak are you? Why do you need pain? Why can’t you be normal?

  To calm myself, I smoothed my hands up and down my thighs, hard enough to remind myself of the sore bite marks hidden beneath my jeans. Yeah, that made me smile. “He’s been coming to Dr. Wentworth’s clinic for over a year. He has a big, beautiful king shepherd named Sheba who’d eat your face off if you showed up at his door uninvited. And we’ve been together since...” I had to pause a minute, running through everything that had happened already. “Yesterday.”

  I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. Only one day. It felt like I’d never not known Charlie MacNiall.

  “That’s all?” Mom sounded surprised too. I searched her face, braced for doubt, worry, the same questions she always asked me. “You seem so right together. Comfortable. It’s funny but I never would have guessed you’d only just started to date.”

  My heart welled with all the happiness and hope he’d given me already. “Thanks, Mom.”

  The door opened and the two men came out. Smiling. Dad shook Charlie’s hand before he came over and sat beside me. Easy and charming, he dropped his arm around my shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.”

  Gradually everyone started to turn their attention away from us, so I leaned up and whispered in his ear. “What happened with Dad? What’d you say?”

  Charlie kissed my temple. “I told him I knew about your past, that you’d been completely honest with me, and we were fully prepared to work together for this relationship. And if he had any concerns at all, he should feel free to call me at any time so we could discuss it. He appreciated my openness and wished us all the best.”

  I dropped my head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for bringing me to your family. It’s been a long time since I celebrated Christmas.”

  His wistful voice made me glad, now, that he’d insisted on coming along. I still wished he didn’t have to leave tomorrow. In fact, my stomach turned into cold, queasy lead at the thought. But at least he had a few hours of family time.

  “So...” Sam smiled as us with narrowed eyes. “She’s told you all about Josh, right?”

  Extremely nosy, embarrassing family time. Tensing, I shot a glare at her. “Yes. He knows.”

  Charlie twined our fingers together, holding my hand on his thigh. It might look cute and affectionate to the rest of the family, but his thumb rubbed over my pulse. That easily, he reminded me of the pressure point he’d used last night.

  “
And Talon,” he said easily. “Can we discuss some of your old boyfriends instead?”

  “Tell him about Tommy, Sis. Or would you rather talk about Jacob? Or how about when you had a crazy crush on that werewolf movie?”

  “Shut up,” Sam muttered, starting to turn red.

  Michael roared with laughter. “Oh yeah, she kept hoping she’d turn into a werewolf too. I’ve never seen a thirteen-year-old girl pray on a full moon before.”

  With Sam silenced, Dad and Michael turned the talk to the upcoming college football bowl games. Charlie kept stroking my wrist. I wanted to mouth off about something so he’d apply a little pressure. A little pain. Right here, and no one would know.

  “Do you like football?” I whispered.

  “I don’t have time to follow the teams and players, but I know a little about the game.”

  “Enough so you don’t embarrass me if Dad asks you who to root for?”

  His eyes flared and he chuckled, tightening his fingers slightly but not edging toward pain. “I wouldn’t embarrass you for the world.” He leaned down, his mouth to my ear. “At least not in public.”

  Heat flashed through me, searing intensity leaving only ash behind in my mind.

  Looking down into my face, he quirked his mouth, flashing that dimple I loved so much. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

  I risked a quick glance at my family. Dad and Michael were in a heated discussion about who was going to make the Super Bowl. Sam had given up on me temporarily to go snoop around Brittany. Mom had snuck into the kitchen to check the turkey.

  “I ought to go help Mom in the kitchen.”

  “Sure,” he replied, but he still didn’t let go of my hand. He waited, wanting me to ask. Wanting me to admit to the need.

  The need for him to hurt me, just a little.

  “Please.”

  He watched my face as he pushed his thumb into my wrist, grinding the tendon and nerves against the delicate bones. My hand jerked in his and I let out a soft sound, surely too soft for anyone else to hear. But he heard, and his nostrils flared, his eyes chilling.