Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MASTER
Of all the reactions in the world, I never expected her to taste me.
It was clear she hadn't meant it as a temptation, but a temptation it remained. She was only doing what I told her to do, following my instructions with that wide-eyed innocence and earnest obedience.
And really, considering her innocence, who could blame her for tasting? She had to be curious.
But the moment her tongue peeked out of that delicious-looking mouth to lick up the nectar spilled over her hand, I felt everything inside me snap.
I'd spent years mastering control. Before my curse and then again after so I didn't lose hold of myself. Which meant years of burying every monstrous instinct beneath diligent routines and discipline.
Not to mention the years of forcing myself to remember what I was now, and what I must never allow myself to want.
But one small action by the pretty flower on her knees in front of me had me throwing all that control out of the window.
All that mattered now was her.
The sound she made as she licked it all up, went straight through me and I could feel my cock start perking up again. Even after she'd practically cleaned out my balls.
When those large, beautiful eyes stared up at me and she stammered her apology I had to push down every instinct inside me.
Every muscle in my body tightened, fighting the savage hunger that demanded I take her by the hips, pull her closer, and—
Mine.
The word slammed into me from somewhere primal.
What the fuck was I doing?
I dismissed her as quickly as I could, my voice too rough and unsteady. She obeyed without question, gathering herself and leaving the chamber with one last uncertain glance over her shoulder.
The door closed.
And I hated myself.
I hated the way my body still trembled, my blood boiled, and my cock ached for more of her.
With a growl, I stormed back to my room, annoyed at myself and her for putting me in this predicament.
I needed her to stay sane. To keep my curse at bay.
But I wanted her. Her innocence. Her beauty. Her goodness.
And if there was anything I'd learnt in my life since being cursed, I could never—not ever—have my cake and eat it too.
I tried to sleep that night. Tried to focus on anything but her.
Normally, on the first night after a new maid started with me I would sleep like a baby. Not so much sated from the pleasure but more calm from the voices in my head finally being quiet again.
But that night was different. The memory of her kept playing in my head on a loop. I could picture it. But in my head the memory changed... morphed into something more.
Instead of tasting the cum from her fingers, Jolie had bent over and licked it off the tip of my cock instead.
Dear goddess. She was going to be the death of me.
My control was already thin, stretched dangerously close to breaking. Old magic stirred in the house, nothing more than charms I'd placed over certain rooms, certain pieces of furniture to ensure the smoother running of a household and to help out Beatrice.
I knew, even as I lay there, tossing and turning in my bed, fantasizing about a brilliant brunette, the rooms in my house were cleaning themselves thanks to the magic I'd long since lost access to, thanks to the curse.
A sweet, faint scent drifted down the halls to my room, and I shook it off, convinced that the madness was already seeping back in.
There was no way I should be able to smell Jolie here, in my rooms. She hadn't been close to them yet during her explorations. But no matter what I said to myself, I couldn't shake it.
It was like she was getting under my skin!
Before I could stop myself, my feet were moving. Maybe, if I could just see her, I could convince myself she was safe, she was real, and she wasn't running away (yet), then I could get some sleep.
It didn't take me long to reach her door. It took me a bit longer to convince myself that this wasn't overstepping.
But once I'd made the choice, I slowly reached out for the handle, not knowing if I wished for the door to be locked or not.
It wasn't locked.
I slipped inside.
Moonlight spilled across her bed in a soft wash of silver, and there she was... curled on her side, breathing slow and even, her hair fanned across the pillow.
My chest tightened painfully. She looked so small, so innocent, so peaceful.
And there I was, a monster, in the dark, watching her. Picturing myself doing dirty, filthy things to her. Things that would ruin her. Break her in half.
I moved closer.
I shouldn't have. Every step I took toward the bed was another nail in the coffin. The closer I got to her, the more obvious it was that I could not cross back over this line.
But I couldn't stop myself. Not after the way she'd looked in front of me, covered in my spunk. Her expression filled with a hunger and need so intense it matched my own.
I reached her bedside, close enough to feel the warmth that radiated off her in soft waves. Her breath puffed gently against the air, stirring a loose strand of hair across her cheek.
The urge hit me with brutal force.
I needed to touch her.
I curled my fingers into a fist so tight my nails bit into my palm. That pain had always been enough to pull me back from the edge before.
Tonight, it barely slowed me down.
Carefully, I lifted my hand, reaching out. Her face, her delicate, soft skin was right there. Just a brush of my finger away.
So soft. So vulnerable. So human.
Her pulse fluttered beneath the surface of her throat. My hand hovered over her, trembling with the effort it took not to close the distance.
Goddess, I wanted to feel her. Touch her. Just once.
My breath hitched, and I froze as she shifted in her sleep, letting out a quiet moan. The sound went straight to my cock. A cock, by-the-by that has been aching since she left me alone in the milking chamber.
Once she settled down again, I leaned in closer to inhale the scent in her neck.
My hand drifted an inch lower.
Another.
The air between us pulsed with an unnamed emotion.
And then... My fingertips brushed the soft apple of her cheek.
It was barely even a touch. But I did it. It felt like fire ran up my arm and down my body straight to the aching member between my legs, and no matter how I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea, I couldn't stop what happened next.
My free hand went straight into my loose trousers and cupped the throbbing erection.
But it wasn't enough.
Nothing but claiming her for myself would ever be enough.
So I stroked. Slowly and carefully within the confines of my sleepwear.
As I watched my pretty flower dream her dreams, I jerked my own cock, even though I could never find completion this way, thanks to the damned curse.
As the hunger in me grew, so did my confidence and boldness.
Soon I wasn't content with stroking her cheek anymore, my finger trailing softly down the plump cushion of Jolie's lower lip.
As I stroked along the sensitive skin, I pictured her mouth opening wide, as she tried to take my cock inside her mouth.
Dear goddess.
If the curse wasn't going to do me in, this woman was.
"Master," Jolie moaned and I jerked back in fright, my breath shuddering out of me.
I watched her for any signs that she was waking, but once snuggled back into her pillow, I took a careful step back.
What was I doing?
She could have woken up, caught me violating her.
I stumbled back from the bed like it burned me, vision blurring with panic and shame... and if I was being honest, a desire so sharp it was almost painful.
I had to leave. Now.
But as I slipped out of her room, silent as a shadow, one final truth cut deep.
In her sleep, she'd called out for me.