My Master's Touch [Completed]

Chapter 12

Shanti's POV:

     I sit here before the vanity mirror in our room and stare at my reflection. My hair is piled up on the top of my head in delicate curls. My face is the normal aside from the slight hint of makeup to make my natural beauty more prominent. My eyes were shimmering with excitement. It has been half a year of marriage. Andrew has decided to take us out tonight. I am glad to see that he has forgotten his new found anxiety to enjoy himself.

     I stood up and walked over to my side of the closet. I shivered as the cold air hit my flesh. I looked at my pale flesh in the full length mirror. I stood in sheer white lace and red leather heels. I look over the dresses once more.

     Should I go with the red or the black? I pursed my lips and a frown graced my features. As I was considering the pros and cons of each dress, a hand smooth and warm yet still rough caressed my soft delicate skin. Warmth spread through me as I jumped a little.

     I felt warm soft lips at the crook of my neck and leaned into his strong arms. Andrew began suckling on my neck. I let out a quiet moan and tilted my head to the side to allow him more access. His large warm hands ran over every inch of my exposed skin. I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips. He stilled and I whimpered at the loss and cold that ran through me instantaneously. He spun me to face him.

     I gasped a little. I never got over how handsome he really was. His black hair hung a bit in his eyes. His amber eyes bore into my face as if trying to memorize every line and detail. He let out a relaxed sigh and pulled me close against his chest just as I began to see his eyes burn with an intensity that would melt my internal organs.

     He sighed once more as he tenderly stroked my thick black locks. I froze, I held my breath and closed my eyes. This was foreign and so unknown. This warmth that I feel blossoming within my chest. It was a crippling feeling that resonated through my stomach. I resisted the urge to cry out and hold him closer to me. In that moment of sweet unadulterated tenderness, my mind unwillingly went back to a less pleasant time in my youth.

*Ten years prior*

     I sat there as Mama ran a brush through my hair while I watched her fluid motions in the vanity mirror. It was a monotonous task that nearly put me to sleep. Each time my eyes would droop she would scold me.Finally, she finish running the brush through my hair 150 times. I got up as gracefully as I could but tripped over some undistinguished object. I scrapped my knee really bad.

     My mother stood rigid as I hugged my knee close to my chest as some blood began to trickle out of the small wound. I felt my eyes prick with tears. I tried to hold them back, but I couldn't stop the single tear that fell and slid down my cheek. As if she wasn't a stone like statue, Mama began yelling at me. Reprimanding me for my negligence and my lack of grace. She said that the perfect wife or slave must not show emotion - she must not feel the urge to cry.

     Mama once again reminded me how I was the failure child. She left the room, but not before giving me a wet washcloth to clean the blood.

*Present*

     We stayed in this embrace for a while before Andrew pulled away. His eyes were bright but not that smoldering fire I had seen before.

      "Hurry. I don't want to take you on the closet floor. There will be time for that after dinner." He said before smacking my ass and walking out of the closet.