Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
THE MASTER
The scent of her lingered on my skin long after she left the room. I stood where she'd left me, still half-hard and pulsing from the ghost of her small hand around me.
With the clarity of mind that only came to me after a milking I worked hard to suppress the urges and remain in control of myself, but it didn't work.
Nor did the cold water I splashed over my face. Or even the pathetic command I'd uttered in the hopes I might actually stop obsessing over her.
Why?
Because I knew what she'd done.
Of course I knew.
She thought she'd gotten away with it, and been sneaky enough to get herself off, while doing her job, but I knew.
I might be a shadow of the man I used to be, nothing more than a beast slowly losing himself to his insanity, but I knew when a woman was working herself over. I couldn't just sense it, but scent it.
I still couldn't believe it though. My pretty little flower had touched herself.
Because of me.
And then, to add to it, she climaxed at the exact moment I spilled on her apron like the savage beast I am.
I knew I should have stopped her, or at the very least punished her after the fact. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
I had wanted her pleasure.
Craved it.
A low growl built in my chest, and I worked to swallow it down. I needed to get a hold of myself.
I wiped my hands on the towel, movements sharp and mechanical, then tore the cloth in half without meaning to. Dropping the ruined fabric to the floor, I shoved my hand over my head and tugged at the horns there as if doing so would help me rid myself of them.
I ached to feel her skin underneath my fingertips. To feel her throat convulse against my grip as I controlled her breathing, and to have her body arching up into me as I punished her for stealing pleasure.
Pain lanced through my knuckles as I slammed my fist into the stone wall.
The crack echoed through the room, but thanks to the magic running through my veins, the pain soon disappeared, only angering me more.
I needed the pain to help me focus.
I needed distance. Restraint. Fucking control!
And yet...
As the sun set and my household went quiet, I sent Beatrice back to Jolie's room. There would be no evening milking. I ignored my housekeeper's puzzled expression in the same way I ignored my own idiocy.
I knew why I was doing this. Why I was denying myself the pleasure of her hands on my cock for the night.
Because then the madness would seep back in.
And I would have an excuse for what I wanted to do.
As time ticked by, I could hear the voices rising, urging me on.
Demanding I take what was mine.
But still I waited.
The time had to be perfect.
For once, the voices were satisfied, knowing that I'd give in to their demands.
When the entire house was quiet, and all the staff asleep, I finally made my way to her door.
I could have pretended that it was to ensure the house, and her room were secure, but it was all bullshit.
I stood there, for the second time, staring at her door, willing myself to walk away, but before I knew what was happening my feet moved closer. The predator in me guided each step as I reached for the handle and quietly eased open the door.
Her room was dark, just a sliver of moonlight coming through an open curtain.
The faint light cut across her bed in a pale strip, just enough to show me the curve of her legs tangled in the sheets.
Jolie lay on her side, one knee bent high, nightdress hitched up around her thighs like she's kicked at the blankets in her sleep.
The hem had ridden so far up I could see the soft shadow where her legs met.
My breath stuttered.
I should have closed the door. Backed away and locked myself in my bedroom until sunrise.
Instead, I let the madness take root and swallow me whole.
She shifted once, a tiny unconscious movement, thigh sliding forward enough that the edge of her dress crept higher.
I froze.
The moonlight caught the warm sheen of her skin, and every instinct in me sharpened to a point that made my teeth ache.
Goddess, I wanted to see.
My hand braced on the doorframe, nails digging into the wood as I fought every impulse screaming through my bones. The scent of her drifted to me, and the titillating taste of her arousal had me losing the last grip I had on my sanity.
I took a step closer to her.
Her breath hitched as if she knew a monster had entered her room.
My cock pulsed like a living being against the tight confines of my pants as I took another step closer to her.
The blanket didn't do much to cover her. It clung to her waist, exposing the dip of her spine and the gentle curve of her hip above it.
If I just reached out... Just a few feet away... I could lift the hem of her dress a few inches so I could get a better view of what she'd touched this morning.
I was desperate, the monster in me raging. It wanted to claim what he saw as his. Punish the girl for taking pleasure that wasn't hers to have. Pleasure that was his to give to her.
My throat worked around a low growl that barely escaped. I dragged my hand over my mouth, trying to choke back the sounds. Her scent hit me again.
Faint but unmistakable.
The barest hints of arousal.
Did she not bathe after our morning together? Or did she touch herself again, thinking of me?
My knees almost buckled.
The voices in my head demanded I take action.
And I was powerless to resist.
Before I knew what was happening, I was hovering over Jolie, my hand reaching out, lifting the hem of the dress, exposing her to me.
And she was bare.
Not just naked, but bare.
Goddess! I needed this girl, like I needed my next breath.
And the voices demanded I take her.
Claim her.
Make her ours.
She'd already shown us she wanted it. Wanted me. Wanted the monster.
Slowly, carefully, gently, my other hand reached over and slid between the petals of her pretty pussy.
I stifled a groan at what I found there.
My pretty little flower was wet. Ready for me.
That was the last straw.
Without a second thought, I filled her tight, wet channel with a single digit and watched as she arched her back and let out a low, pleasure-filled moan.
A tremor crawled up my spine, sharp and certain, as her body softened around my touch.
There would be no turning back after this. No pretending I could keep her at a distance.
The thin thread of control I'd held onto was well and truly gone.
By the time the monster and I were done with Jolie, she would be ours.
Mine.