Page 8 of Thorns Laced In Blood

“Remember, this is what you are. My whore,” I said, coldly pulling back and driving back into her. “I own you.”

Within another four thrusts, she had taken all of me, and I resumed a steady pace. I wanted to praise her, but this wouldn't help her snap out of her trance. Her saliva dangled off my balls and her chin. I pulled out of her to rub myself all over her face and tongue, soaking her.

“What do you want, whore?” I asked.

When she tried to put my dick back into her mouth, I grabbed it out of her reach.

“No, use your words, slave. What do you want?” I snapped at her.

“M-master,” she whispered but looked away from me, and I almost softened at the word.

I turned away, pulling her by her hair until she crawled behind me, leading her into the bedroom. “What do you want, whore?” I growled the words as we reached my bed.

When I turned to face her, she grabbed my cock with both hands and began to swallow me down, sucking, licking and swirling her tongue around the head before pushing it down her throat, choking herself on it as if her life depended on it. I moaned as she worked her magic on wanking me and rubbing my balls simultaneously while her lips worked my length.

I picked her up and tossed her on the bed, placing her flat on the bed before lifting her T-shirt. The scars didn't bother me because they were her war scars of survival. She moved on the bed to get her head to the edge of the bed while I squeezed her breasts, curling my fingers around them until I reached her nipples.

When she lifted her hands to reach for my dick, I slapped them away before clamping my fingers around her taut pink nipples. I kept my eye on her face when I pinched them as hard as possible. Her lips parted in pain, but no sound left her mouth. There was only pleasure that remained. It had to be a trained response.

“Please, Master,” she whispered before she lifted her head and started to lick my balls.

“What do you want, whore?” I said, releasing the pressure on her nipples before reapplying it.

“To taste your cum, Master,” she moaned, but her eyes were closed.

I slipped my hand beneath her waistband and underwear, winding my fingers to her pussy. She was so wet that the cottonstuck to her pussy. I began to circle my fingers around her clit, slipping my finger through her wet folds.

“What is your name, whore? Give me your name, or I'll stop,” I commanded but slipped my finger into her pussy.

Her eyes snapped open, and tears began to coarse down her cheeks. Whispered words tumbled from her mouth, but none made sense. I listened carefully, but when the incoherent words continued, I pulled my finger out and pinched her clit.

“Be good. He won't—no. Master, no. I’ll be good. Don't kill—”

She began to shake uncontrollably, and there was only one emotion in her blue eyes before a series of rapid blinking and twitching took over.

Terror.

Chapter 6

Jane

My name? A name. Why did everyone want my name? Jane. I was Jane. No—I was—someone. Who was I? I wasn’t supposed to remember or say it. What was the name?

My head throbbed. It ached and throbbed until I could feel it pulsating. Pain. My life was nothing but pain. Images of people flooded through my mind.

My father, Bear and my mother.

A happy, normal family.

My mind went blank, but after the darkness cleared, I sawhisface. The icy blue eyes. I gasped, and my eyes widened. The dizziness took over as the fog began to lift.

The devil.

He did this.

The man my mother sold me to.

“Jane? Sugar? Can you hear me?” Master said, shaking me. “Fuckkkk!”

---