Sold to the mafia

Isaac

Fuck! My fingers dig into Katia’s waist as her knees buckle and she nearly topples forward. I saw it happening in slow motion. I’ve been waiting for something, anything to come of the anklet, but I didn’t think it would be this.

“Kitten!” I hold her close to me, keeping her upright as her nails dig into my skin. Shit! I seethe through my teeth as her nails scratch down my arm. My heart twists in my chest so tightly, as if it’s wrapped in barbed wire. The pain is unbearable.

I hate this. I never thought this would be the outcome.

“Katia, I’m here.” I call to her, holding her close, but she’s not listening. She’s not here with me. She’s far away and caught in a hell that was meant to be lit on fire and left in her past where it belongs.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

She cries out, her eyes open, but not seeing what’s in front of her. I shake her, I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “Look at me!”

But she’s not listening. She’s fighting me, pulling away and scratching and trying to run.

He has her.

Her former Master. I want to spit the word.

He’s not allowed. He’s dead. I won’t let him have this control over her.

She’s mine!

I push her back against the wall and shove my forearm under her chin, keeping her from biting me. With her wrists pinned above her head and my hip pushed against hers, I have her still.

“You think of only me when you’re with me,” I command her, pushing my thigh between her legs and pressing her back firmly against the wall. She whimpers, and her eyes finally find mine.

“You belong to me. No one else.” Her body tenses as her pupils dilate and recognition flashes in her eyes. My kitten. Stay with me. Only me.

I crash my lips to hers, slowly lowering my arm and she responds. Her lips part and she fights me again, but it’s to hold me back. To grip onto me and kiss me with a passion that makes her heart beat so hard I swear I can hear it even over the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears.

“Only me.”

“Only you.”

“Who do you belong to?” I ask her, pushing my hand between her thighs and rubbing her clit.

“You,” she says in a strangled cry.

“Why did you take it off?” I ask her.

She breathes in a sharp inhale and her eyes widen, afraid to answer for a moment. But she obeys. “Because I was told to. You told me to.”

“You’re such a good girl,” I whisper into the crook of her neck as I rub my palm against her clit.

I kiss along her jaw and down her neck, rocking my hand and feeling her grow wetter and hotter. I need to get her off. I need her to be rewarded for facing her past like she did.

I bury my head in the crook of her neck, feeling her long blonde hair against my nose and cheek. “Such a good girl.”

I slip my fingers into her heat.

“Thank you, Master,” she moans. Her head turns to the left and then the right.

She runs her hand down my forearm and I can feel the blood smear along my arm from where she scratched me. Her eyes are closed. She’s just enjoying my touch.

Thank fuck. She needs this. She can’t be afraid to take it off. She needs this more than she could possibly know.

“Cum for me,” I tell her, pulling away slightly and looking at the soft curves of her face. Her forehead’s pinched and her soft lush lips are parted. Her flushed skin and quick pants of heated breathing only prove to me that she’s close. I can’t take the sight of her so wound up and turned on. So fucking gorgeous. This is how she should always be. Lost in the pleasure I give her. Never in pain.

“Please cum for me,” I practically beg her, my heart hurting and my body feeling cold and nearly numb.

She cries out as the warmth of her arousal leaks from her and her thighs tremble. Her body stiffens as she grips me with a force equal to the intensity of her orgasm.

“Good girl,” I softly say as I pull my hand away and hold her close to me.

I kiss her hair, then her cheek and her neck as she lolls her head to the side, gripping onto my shoulders and resting her cheek on my shoulder.

It takes a moment for her to calm, and all the while I just hold her to me.

“Are you alright, kitten?” I ask softly, pulling away from her for just a moment. She hides her face at first and I hate it. I hate that she’s ashamed of confronting her past.

I grip her chin in my hand and force her to look at me.

She pulls away, moving her head to the side and responding softly. “I’m okay.”

I think about questioning her. Making her talk about it. But we both know what happened.

I don’t want her to hurt anymore. I pull her into my chest and rock her slightly. She holds me back with a force that’s new to her. She’s holding me as though she’ll fall if I let her go. As if she’ll shatter without me here to hold her up.

My poor Katia. I kiss her sweetly, my heart breaking.

I wish there was more I could do.

But this will take time.

Every time she puts that anklet on, she knows what she’s doing, what she’s enabling.

This was bound to happen, but I still hate it.

I lay her on the ground, breathing heavily and catching her breath while I turn the shower on. The loud sprays hit the wall, drowning out her heavy breathing. I turn to look at her, my hand under the stream, waiting for the water to warm and she’s still, her eyes wide open, staring at the gorgeous anklet, laying across the bathroom floor from her, as though it’s a snake waiting to strike.

I’m not surprised though, when she’s showered and pampered and the time’s come to either wear it or throw it away. I’m not surprised that she puts it back on to keep the night terrors at bay. But the look in her eyes is different now.

It’s progress.

* * *

“Katia, what does being a Master mean?” I ask her as I sit on her bed and gently pet her hair.

“I don’t know, Master.” She answers so quietly I almost don’t hear her.

“What do you think it means?” I ask her.

“I feel so confused,” she admits.

“What if I told you you’ve only had one Master, Katia? What would you say then?”

She turns in the bed, finally looking me in the eyes. “I’d say a Master is a good thing. A Master is a savior.”

Her admission makes my heart hurt. I want to save her. And I will.