I moaned in protest, trying to roll my hips to feel him move within me once again. But he held still, his eyes hard and crazed with the need for my response.

“Yes,” I replied breathlessly. I screamed as his grip became so hard on my wrists that I feared the bones would break. “Master,” he hissed, “Show your fucking respect, mona.”

“Yes, Master,” I corrected quickly, holding my breath immediately afterward. Master’s face softened, his anger dissipated, and his grip on my wrists slackened. “That’s better,” he praised, and released one of my wrists to place his hand on my cheek.

Ensuring I looked him in the eyes with a firm grip on my jaw, he scolded, “I won’t tolerate any disobedience from you, mona. You belong to me, as such I’ll treat you like a queen.” His mouth moved to my ear and he whispered, “But disobey me in any way, and I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

He raised his hands and kissed my lips softly, sweetly—in stark contrast to the threatening words issuing from his mouth. Fisting my hair and abruptly ripping my head back, he demanded, “Do you understand, mona? Tell me you understand my every word.”

White-hot pain spread along my scalp under his grip, the unbearable feeling stood in contrast to the need between my legs. “Yes, Master,” I gulped, as tears left the corner of my eyes.

Master released my hair and a devastatingly handsome smile spread on his full lips. “Good,” he announced proudly, his fingers now massaging the scalp he’d just bruised. His smile dropped as his hard length twitched and pulsed within me. I waited for what would happen next, unsure if it would be pleasure or pain. Then, still inside me, he abruptly spun me around until I straddled his hips.

His hands ran over my thighs, finally gripping my hips as my palms landed flat on his broad muscled chest. “Fuck me,” he ordered, his dark eyes blazing in excitement. His hands tightened on my hips until I was sure they would leave a bruise. “Take me until I fill you.”

And I did. Needing his release, I let his harsh grip guide me until my eyes closed and my head snapped back, embracing the rapture. Body stiffening, I cried out a long loud moan, digging my nails into the flesh on Master’s chest as he stilled beneath me, roaring out his own pleasure. As his seed filled me, it soothed the heat within my channel. My skin tingled as I remained poised over his hips, slowly rocking back and forth as Master’s length jerked inside me.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but as my breathing slowed to calm, I lowered my head and fluttered open my eyes. I was met with a dark, satisfied gaze. A gaze that watched my every move, a predator, a true Master of the pit.

A cold sensation began creeping up my spine and continued spreading all over my body, as I remained transfixed by his stare. As the insatiable need to be taken ebbed, the reality of this moment hit me hard. This was Master. The male who controlled all fates in the pit. The person who decided whether we lived or died.

And I had been selected to please him.

Real, true fear settled in my heart.

“My delicate pretty petal,” Master purred, voice low. His fingertips drifted off my hips and brushed along my stomach until they dropped to my core. He ran his fingers through my wetness, and as they did, his hips raised, tearing another moan from my mouth.

“You like that, petal?” he asked. I drew in a deep breath, but before I could speak, he bit out, “Answer me!”

My eyes opened as I flinched at the aggression in his voice. “Yes, Master,” I replied quickly. “I like that, Master.”

My words were a balm to Master, and he relaxed back on the bed. Glancing down at my hands on his chest, I paled when I saw nail marks on his skin, blood gathering underneath. I snatched my hands back and watched, in trepidation, as Master glanced down at the blood. My heart pounded in terror at what he might do next. But to my surprise, a wide, happy smile spread on his lips, and his eyes grew leaden with desire.

I swallowed down my trepidation when Master’s hand rubbed over the small speckles of blood. Then to my surprise, he raised his finger to his lips and sucked the blood off the tip. When he lowered his finger, he looked at me and said, “I knew you were born to be mine.” His hands landed on my waist and dragged along my skin until they cupped my breasts, palming the soft flesh. My nostrils flared as his touch reignited my desire, and my hips began to rock back and forth. “I knew when I watched you on those cameras, when you were with my bitch of a sister, that you were who I’d been waiting for. That the other High Monas couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

Master’s length began to harden within me again, and he softly thrust his hips, increasing my pleasure. I moaned, and Master groaned in reply.

I worked my hips faster still, until I started to search for release. Master’s hands tightened on my breasts, and I cried out as his grip bordered on pain. “That’s it, petal,” he murmured, “take me hard as you feel this pain.” Pleasure overriding the pain he gave, pressure built at my core and tingles spread over my skin as I chased the pleasure coming over the horizon.

Master groaned and began to slam into me with vigor. As he did so, it wasn’t long before I fell over the precipice and burst apart with light. I fell forward, slumping onto Master’s chest as he thrust into me three more times and spilled his seed within me, extinguishing the embers of desire that the shot of the new drug had ignited. Master’s arms wrapped around me, but I could tell it wasn’t in affection but possession. His grip was unyielding, his arms a cage of flesh and bone. He held me close, my eyes squeezing shut at the hum of fear that still buzzed under the surface of my skin. Now that the effects of the drug had faded, with its false desire muted and still, I had no idea what to do next.

My memories were silent, but I was sure I’d never been with a male drug-free before. I simply had no idea how to act.

Master’s fingertips traced lazy circles on my back. I breathed slowly, trying to stifle a cry. “Do you know why I call you petal, 152?” he asked softly, a gentler, more affectionate side appearing at the forefront of his personality.

“No, Master,” I replied timidly.

Master’s hand ran up to my hair and combed through the dark tresses. His hand stilled. He turned his head toward my face to answer, “Because just like a petal, you can be easily destroyed. But while intact you are so very beautiful to admire.”