Chapter 65: For Supper

She nestled her head into his short, jet-black hair. He had taken away her dignity step by step. She had nothing now.

“Ma-master,” she stuttered.

“That’s good. Say that again,” he encouraged softly.

“Master,” she repeated. This was where she had truly lost her sense of identity.

His hand cradled the back of her head. She felt her being pulled away from him, just enough she could see his face. His lips were red and shiny, painted with her blood. Combined with the pale skin, he looked utterly terrifying, but that face and that body would never lose the seduction they held.

Her eyelids became so heavy. Still, she was well aware of his devouring gaze that trailed her face down to her waist, where the robe hung loose. When his eyes returned to her face, she wondered if he was going to tear her apart down to her soul.

“To answer your question,” he rumbled. “You may go. You need rest. Before we depart.”

Rest. That felt like a command. She yawned, and the world faded away before sh