BONUS CHAPTER #4
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How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?
'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up
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GUYS, GUYS, GUYS, AND VERY PRECIOUS READERS!
Before you read this chapter please keep in mind that:
1. THIS IS NOT THE STORY. It is a bonus chapter for the kinky ones out there who deep down deep wish that Sierra never left Kayden (or, Killian, as we know him now.)
2. This chapter is set right after Chapter 12; EXCEPT, Sierra didn't step out. She drugged Kayden, she stuck the key in the door, but she DIDN'T STEP OUT. So, basically, that voice inside of her didn't win.
Kayden did.
3. So yeah, no Liam, no journalism, no 'independence for Sierra': since this is not the REAL STORY.
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"Rule number 1. Independence to move is limited to your room." A voice echoes in my head, deep and commanding.
No.
I won't follow his rules.
I fall on my knees as my body refuses to step outside.
I can't. I'll just wake him up in an hour, and go about my day as usual.
Tears flow freely as I shakily get up, running my hand through my hair. As my legs shake underneath me, I pull the door shut. The small voice inside me disappears into thin air, and my heart feels safer. Warmer. Happier.
I dislodge the key from the lock, dropping it on the carpet. My mind shuts down as I leave the evidence of my escapade behind. The unlocked door and the key on the floor taunt me, but my master's authority pulls me up the staircase, my steps shameful as they thud against the wooden stairs.
I silently open the door to his room, briefly smiling at this sleeping form, then kneeling beside the bed on the floor, my gaze cast down with tears welling my eyes.
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I shake from my stupor as he groans slowly, making my heart beat faster.
I tried to escape.
The words are right on the tip of my tongue as I try to absolve myself of my guilt, but my conscious mind berates me, tries to stop me from condemning myself to torture.
His hand protectively makes its way to my head, patting once, harshly. "You drugged me," he states.
I stay silent. My heart pounding in my ears, as my hands barely stay still on my lap.
"What gave you the idea to drug me, Sierra?" he asks, gripping my shoulder tightly.
I whimper softly at the pain, "I am sorry, m-master. I-"
"You tried to escape," he states, tugging at the hoodie on my body. "Am I right?"
I sob softly, my guilt overtaking my senses. My head lowers even more, my sobs getting louder.
"Shhh, my slave," he caresses my back gently, "I am not mad at you," he says. "Slaves like you make mistakes," he comforts me, making me nod.
Slaves like me make mistakes.
"We'll correct that. We'll make that go away," he almost whispers, pausing his movements ominously.
"I am s-"
"Shhhh," he says, his hand covering my mouth. "Stand up," he orders, removing his touch from me altogether. I stand up, my knees aching from my previous position, my legs shaky.
"Undress and sit on the bed," he says nonchalantly, standing up from his position on the bed and wearing his fur robe.
I obey his order unhesitantly, removing his hoodie from my body and kneeling on the bed.
"You are going to be a good slave and take everything I give you, without complaint or hesitation. I know exactly what you need. Understand, slut?" he asks, tipping my chin up with his hand.
"Yes, Master," I murmur softly, my eyes closing from the sudden relief.
He will give me what I need.
I shiver under his command, the combination of his fingers and his voice invading every crevice of my body making me sigh in pleasure. "Lay down," he murmurs. I lay back, my legs instinctively spreading to their full length as he climbs on top of me, his hands gripping my hips.
"You tried to escape," he reiterates, and my eyes betray me as tears roll down my cheek. "Did I make you feel unsafe? What did I do, slave, that you tried to leave me?" he asks, his voice filled with pain.
"Nothing, master. I just wanted to— I don't know, master, I'm sorry, I didn't even realize how much I would miss you. I belong to you, ma-"
"Shut up," he states sternly, but quietly. His left-hand trails up my body and grips my throat tightly, and I choke. His grip tightens, making my vision cave and my ears ring. I struggle softly, my arms thrashing at my sides as my eyes roll into my head, and I barely register his touch on my clit, rubbing harshly.
"You need to understand," he says as his grip loosens, allowing the shortest breaths, "that you crave me. You crave my control. My dominance. My discipline," he says, continuing his ministrations. "What do you think would have happened if you left me, hmm?" he asks, "You would have killed yourself: the first possibility. Do you think your family, your friends would have been waiting for you? They would have slammed the door in your face, my beautiful slave," he says, making tears well my eyes.
It's true.
No one cares as much as he does.
"Shh, shh, shh—" he consoles me, wiping my tears from my cheeks with his thumb, "But you didn't escape, did you?"
"N-no, m-master," I barely stutter through his grip.
"Yes; that was your love for me speaking, Sierra," he says, fastening the circles on my clit, bringing me right to the edge. My hips buck into the bed as my head tilts back, I almost—
"Can you be a good slut for me, hmm?" he asks me, slowing his movements. I nod erratically, as much as I can, "Yes, master!"
"Don't come. No matter how much you want to, no matter how much you think you can't hold it. Don't come until I tell you to. Do you understand me?"
I whine softly, but I mutter a 'yes, master' nonetheless. "That's my good slave," he coos, getting off the bed. "Stay still," he orders and I obey. I hear him walk away from me to his closet, feeling my orgasm receding back to the darkness, yet I stay completely still. I dare not tilt my head to see what he was doing, but the sound of things clattering gave me an idea.
Clang.
Handcuffs.
He doesn't waste a second as he comes to the bed and flips me over, cuffing my hands behind my back. He turns me back, my breaths are heavy as he blindfolds me, plunging me into complete darkness. His hands trail over my body, making me whine and pant for his touch. His left moves upwards, slowly, groping my breasts and finally gripping my neck tightly.
My breath hitches in my throat, and I distantly hear his voice, "Remember what I told you, my slave?"
"Yes, master," I whisper.
"What did I tell you?" he asks me, his fingers rubbing my clit at the most agonizing pace.
"To not c-come," I gasp mid-sentence as his pace fastens, "u-until you tell me to," I complete.
"That's right," he says, plunging his fingers deep inside me, getting deeper and faster as his grip tightens on my throat, and the knot in my stomach tightens unbearably.
"P-Please," I choke out, my hands clenching beneath my back, my back arching off the mattress as I try to hold myself back. I try to ground myself, thinking of his disappointment if I came, and I scream in agonizing pleasure, muttering a string of pleads and curses.
"Shhhh," he coos, "you can do it, can't you, slut? Be my good slave, and hold it," he says sternly while I continue bucking my hips and whining in pain-inducing pleasure, my tears wetting the blindfold.
As my orgasm almost gets inevitable, he stops.
He removes his hand from my neck and I breathe in relief, confusion, and sorrow all at once. My body is slick with sweat, my breaths heavy and loud, my chest heaving.
"You tried to escape, but you still belong to me, don't you?" he asks, making me smile softly.
"I am yours, Master."
"That's right," he states, stroking my head. "Nevertheless, you never come before your master."
He takes my blindfold off, pulling me to a sitting position. I barely kneel on my shaky legs as he lays back, untying his robe partially, his erection luring me to take him in. I look up with questioning eyes as he nods, "Go ahead, my beautiful slave. But you don't get to come before me. You will wait for me, yes?"
I nod, uttering a 'yes, master', as I straddle his waist, and his hand aligns him with me, my cuffed hands flexing behind me. I slowly push down, more and more of him stretching me out. I moan loudly, throwing my head back as he bottoms out, filling me impossibly. I breathe loudly, gyrating my hips slowly as he hits the perfect spot inside me, instantly bringing me to the edge.
His hands grips my hips, making me slam down on him. I scream from the sudden movement, and he stares at me. "You are already near, aren't you?" he says, chuckling.
"I a-am," I whine as his hands move me quickly, making me moan in pleasure, clenching down on him.
"I am nowhere near, unfortunately," he says, flipping me over, holding my legs spread with his knees, slamming inside me at a punishing pace. My hips dig into the mattress, sobs emitting my mouth as my orgasm becomes overwhelming, almost unable to be held back. He grips my neck tightly, and my eyes shoot open, "Don't you dare," you commands, making me nod. He pulls my body into his, going faster and deeper, making me scream loudly, clenching down at him tightly. His hips hit my inner thighs, my hands fixed at a painful position — but none of that pain registers as all I can focus on was my orgasm.
"That's it," he says, unrelenting. "I will come soon, slut," he promises, going faster, if that's possible. He groans lowly, tilting his head back as the vein in his neck becomes prominent. With a few deep thrusts, he comes into the condom. I sigh in relief, my orgasm waiting to be unleashed.
"Are you ready to come, my slave?" he asks me, and I nod erratically. He smiles, his hand trailing down my stomach to my swollen clit and rubbing softly. My back arches as I moan, and he moves inside me once again. He starts to rub faster and harder, slamming his hips into mine. I clench down on him, my orgasm almost inevitable.
"P-Plea-"
"Come for me, my slave," he orders, and I explode. I thrash under him, his grip on my throat tightening as my vision blackens. My body moves and twitches violently, breathing fastly but being unable to get the oxygen I so desperately need.
As I finally descend from my high, I realize the impending unconsciousness. My vision caves as I am unable to breathe. He tightens his grip on me, and I barely see him bend down to whisper in my ear, "Sleep, my slave."
"Yes, Master," I barely murmur, and my eyes roll back into my head, plunging me into a dreamless sleep.
Author's Note:
Bring me holy water.
ALSO, featuring me...
...when someone asks me to write smut.
I am definitely NOT Rihanna.