Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,156

my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. Unconsciously, I raise a hand to my face, touching where he struck me.

But there’s no pain there. No bruises.

It’s not real, I tell myself confidently, shocked at how little I’m affected by that horrible image, just a fading memory.

“You need a bath, kitten,” Isaac says, breaking me out of my reverie.

I take in a sharp breath as I see him standing in front of the beautiful garden tub, cloaked in steam, his dress shirt unbuttoned and rumpled, his black dress pants doing little to hide the huge bulge in his pants. My nipples pebble, my mouth waters, and my pussy clenches with need as I think about how he will soon be cleaning me himself, his hot hands roaming every inch of my body. I want it. I want him.

“Yes, Master,” I say obediently, a feeling of warmth lacing with my desire. I feel so safe in Isaac’s presence. I could not have asked for a better Master. But I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded from the steam. Today has been such a long day, and I’m tired. Taking a warm, steamy bath will hopefully help me relax.

He gestures at my robe. “Take that off.”

I do as he says, letting the pink robe slip off my shoulders and fall to the floor. I don’t miss the flash of desire in Isaac’s eyes as he surveys my naked body, my hardened nipples, my flesh riddled with goosebumps, and the chain attached to my clit. Exactly how he likes me.

His eyes burning, he walks over to me and places a hand on my abdomen, tracing his name he’s written across it before taking the chain off from around my neck and then unclipping the other end from my clit. The action makes my back bow with the sharp release on my tender throbbing clit. My head falls back and his fists my hair at the base of my neck. “Good girl, kitten,” he whispers, kissing my exposed neck and releasing me. I glance down at my midsection where his name is scrawled, feeling a sense of pride. Every day he writes his name on me, reminding me that I belong to him… but I want so badly to ask if I can write my name on him. I haven’t, afraid it might displease him.

He’d probably let me if I ask, I tell myself. As much as I want to please him, my happiness matters to him. It’s obvious to me now.

“Take off your anklet, kitten,” Isaac orders next, his voice heavy, his eyelids hooded with lust. He never touches the anklet. It’s truly mine. And so far, it’s helped at night. The weight mimics the shackle. But the way Isaac looks at it makes me uneasy.

I’m quick to bend down and remove it for the shower. Just like I’ve done every day.

I know where the clasps are and I lean against the wall, still feeling exhausted and weak from the day and unhook the first, and then the second.

My heart stops short as the metal falls over my ankle.

So much like before.

I’ll always be your Master. I hear his voice, and see his cruel, smiling visage. My heart races, and the room starts spinning around me. Oh my God. Not here. Not now. I feel like I’m going to throw up as a crushing weight settles on my chest and my whole body begins shaking. Fuck. I can’t catch my breath as my heart pounds out of my chest, and my vision begins to narrow into a tiny little dot.

I can’t breathe. My fingers grip the anklet, but I don’t feel the studded Swarovski, instead it’s the rough cast iron. I lean against the drywall of the luxurious bathroom, but that’s not where I am. It’s the hard, rough concrete walls of the small room he kept me in.

He’s dead. My Master’s dead. I can feel the key in my hand as the shackle falls to the ground with a loud clank.

Did they hear? My heart races faster. What I have I done? Fear grips me. I have to run. I need to run. They can’t find me. I can't let that happen.

The metal slips from my hand as I cover my mouth and feel paralyzed, knowing if I can’t escape, they’ll kill me. Slowly, painfully, for nothing more than their enjoyment.

As the floor rushes up to meet me, the last thing I see is a blur rushing at me and deep voice