(Author's Note: Warning- Extreme Violence.)
Chimamire no koibito strode through the travel gates into the capital of the Earth Tribe,
hood up and ready for anything. It had taken her two days to reach the capital and she had changed much in that time.
The cruel smile that adorned her face ensured that no one bumped or jostled her and as she walked, people whispered.
The Earth Tribe capital was in full swing for the festival that was taking place. There was dancing and music and soon there would be war games. It was all very exciting and it was the perfect cover for all the shadows that were slipping one by one into the crowd, waiting for night to fall.
In the dead of night, the real games would take place.
The cloaked woman's heart beat fast in thrilled anticipation. It had been so long since she had felt the excitement and terror of performing the Dance in all its bloody glory.
She remembered stealing into Kuuto when she was thirteen, finding the secret meeting place and winning the title. It had been the crowning achievement in the Bloody Lover's short life and she hung onto that title through challenge after challenge. She'd yet to find an event that could cause the same thrill inside of her as a Dance.
Her eyes found a figure standing in the shadow of a jewelry store and her smile grew deeper.
Casually, she sauntered over and slipped like an alley cat into the shadows.
"Hello, Endou-sama." She murmured, her voice a husky purr.
The slender old man bowed.
"Chimamire no koibito. It is good to see you alive. There were many rumors of your demise in the Fire Tribe lands. It is no surprise though that they were false." Aging brown eyes stared at the hooded woman but he could not see her whole face. Only her lips and her chin. It gave him goosebumps, not being able to see her eyes.
"The rumors are false, but I want to make sure no one knows that I live. I'm playing a long game, Endou-sama, and to play it certain people must believe I died weeks ago."
The older man nodded, understanding.
"No one will know until you wish… Master."
The Bloody Lover sighed in pleasure.
It made Endou shudder with fear. He remembered when he had first made the acquaintance of the Angel of Death. It had been in the two years after her Master had been killed, when she was so full of hatred for the world, that she had killed without regard. He remembered her eyes filled with madness and goddess-born fury. A beautiful face, anointed with the blood of hundreds, maybe even thousands.
Oh yes, he remembered that sigh, that eerie smile, that terrifying purr in her melodious voice.
"It is good to be back."
The Bloody Lover prowled at the edges of the crowd, impatience wearing at her already strung out body. Try as she might, she couldn't turn her thoughts away from her masked savior in the woods, her red haired heart, her thunderous brother, her mothering young healer and her angel in white that she had left behind with all the good in her heart and soul.
The Lady of Blessed night whispered in her soul, calling for patience, for the homecoming would be worth it.
The pain in her body had crystallized her thoughts on her journey.
Yes, she was playing a long and deadly game with the minds of the nations. She would need every ounce of courage in her body, all the charisma she could muster, and the Lady's support if she were to pull it off.
She was confident, to say the least.
She went to the market, wandering stall to stall, making sure her hood stayed firmly on her head. It would do no good now to ruin the game with a slip up.
Every once in a while, she would buy something she thought would be a nice gift.
She bought a new bow and quiver for herself, as well as four dozen new arrows for herself and her heart. She had to force away the image of giving the gifts. It was too nice. Too human.
So she remembered and prayed. Remembered the blood and the pain and the apathy that had created the Bloody Lover so long ago. It gave her strength to remember who she was.
It was quite easy in a way.
She had left her heart hidden in the mountains.
And everyone knew that the Angel of Death had no heart.
The King's retinue passed and she couldn't help but glance at the beautiful young King that rode by, smiling and waving at the crowd. He looked resplendent in his festival attire and all she could think of was the sounds he had made that night, the touch of his hands.
She hated him.
Hated the memories.
They were weaknesses here.
He couldn't see in the throng of people the figure shrouded in an oddly colored cloak with wild eyes and clenched jaw. If he could've, maybe he would have wondered.
Somewhere in her chest, behind all her walls, she knew there was a spark of light. A pang of longing, a hint of tenderness, a touch of unrepentant sorrow.
She ignored it. After all, it all felt so far away.
Lord Geun-tae rode behind him looking bored and annoyed.
As a man of action, he had languished in his city. His life was made for war and without it, life held no meaning. King Soo-won sought to appease that hunger for violence with games of war.
It would seem that the Bloody Lover was not the only one playing games with the minds of a nation. She briefly wondered who was better at playing them. She smiled after a moment, realizing that she would have the answer sometime in the future.
Having seen enough, she slid away from the crowd toward the room the Endou-sama had given her.
She rather liked the Elder and was pleased that he was smart enough to be her ally. Smart enough to fear her.
He was her assurance that tonight would go as she planned it. She was carefully orchestrating her reveal, moving people like pawns to where she desired. And they would do it for her.
She was, after all, the Queen of the Underground. A match for the King in every way.
They would all bow to her, every single one...
The Lady of Blessed Night read the soul of Her wayward daughter, her favorite child and smiled in anticipation.
It was a night made for death.
The people of the Earth Tribe celebrated Lord Geun-tae's victory in the streets, hiding the commotion in the dark. The subtle signs and glances given as shadows within shadows moved to the meeting ground.
The Lady spread her cloak across the sky but hid the moon from sight.
Tonight, only the stars would bear witness to the atrocities about to be committed in the name of power.
She couldn't wait.
The Bloody Lover moved as another shadow in the dark night, cloaked and hooded like a specter of the Reaper.
Far from the eyes of the populace, stood a makeshift stage lit by flickering torches. Reflectors hid the scene and only those who knew found the entrance and only those who gave the proper response were admitted.
This was no place for the faint of heart. This was no mere spectacle.
This was worship.
Atonement.
The Bloody Lover followed her signs to the entrance and waited.
"By what name do you seek entrance to the Dance?" A disembodied voice whispered to her.
"By one who the Lady has gathered, whose name is Nagashima Hiro, the Viper King." She murmured in reply. The man was not surprised. Here lay another of her pawns and he knew his part.
The first time she came to the Dance to win, she had merely said his name.
The Viper King, Nagashima Hiro… her most beloved Master.
"Then enter at your own risk, Priestess."
A slight movement but she saw it. The reflector shifted and the Bloody Lover slipped into her Court.
There were fewer than one might expect but the path of darkness and murder wasn't for the weak and good. There had never been more than fifty attendees and this Dance looked to hold a little over half that number.
Excellent.
Her eyes wandered around the gathering, noting new and old faces, those that looked like challenges and those that looked like easy prey.
In one corner of the grounds stood a group of brutish looking mercenary types. And they were lead by someone with dirty brown hair and cold reptilian. Glaring at them was a tall, lean, weathered looking man with thinning red hair and fierce grey eyes. A Belarusian.
Yes, there were always a few of her people at these events.
The tradition of the Dance of Death was from her homeland, back when every man, woman, and child of the mountains were the fiercest of fighters and the deadliest of assassins. Long before the Warlords and their disease had come.
She never spoke to them, even when she had introduced herself long ago. They all had their reasons for leaving the motherland and turning down their dark path.
Two brothers stood together looking bored and jaded, brown haired and blue eyed, who came from a village not far from her own.
An older woman with one ice blue eye and silver streaked black hair stood near Endou, rubbing the stump where her left hand had been anxiously. She had come from a province that neighbored the Akamine Estates.
A young man with pale blond hair and sharp green eyes stood at the back observing everyone with an older woman as she did the same. He was a new face but he had the look of the Belarusian people.
These were the scattered remnants of a once great people. Ones that clung to tradition in the only way they knew how outside of Belarusia herself.
The Lady's true children.
Endou ascended the short dais and the disorganized groups clustered before him.
It was time to begin.
"I am Endou Masouji, last pupil of Sano Arisue, Eldest of the Dancers and it is my honor to preside over this Dance." Endou-sama said formally, folding his aged hands before him. He was considered a rarity indeed. An old assassin who had lived to retire.
The remnants of what he had been could still be seen but his once prowess had faded, leaving only the memory of dancing with death. There were no regrets in his old but still sharp eyes, only a deep wisdom. His long white beard gave testimony to his age belied by the ramrod straight back and the body control of a much younger man.
The Lover picked out the weaknesses on him easily though. Old injuries, aging joints, hands that were no longer strong enough to wield a sword in true combat.
This was why he presided over the Dances and left the battling to younger bodies.
Sano Arisue had been a child of Belarusia, though his last student was of Sei ancestry. That was how the tradition was handed down, generations later. Not enough of the Belarusian people were inclined to follow the Dark Lady's path, so new students had to be taken from outside the motherland and taught to revere Her.
"O Lady of Blessed Night, I beg of You to carefully watch over Your children near and far on this eve and always guide us to perform Your will. On this night You have given us, I ask that You show who amongst Your sons and daughters rise to the title of Master of the Dance of Death." Endou-sama intoned over the group in the Kouka language. Many, like the Lover, murmured prayers of their own in the Belarusian tongue as it was meant to be spoken.
The Lady's presence descended into the gathering as terrible and graceful as a falling star. Her wings brushed Her children's souls, assuring that She was indeed there. It was a comfort, knowing that no matter how the night turned out, She was there to watch and if need be, gather.
Yes, it was time indeed.
"Will the challengers please step forth."
A few moved at first to stand behind Endou-sama.
More followed, though a few stayed still, choosing caution over the possibility of Death later.
The Lover stood still until no one else moved to take the stage. Her shoes made no sound on the soft earth but the remaining crowd parted around her instinctively. Her presence was so honed so sharp it seemed that the air would bleed at her passing.
No one spoke a word.
She watched as the blond boy moved to take the stage but his mentor stopped him with a firm hand and the shake of her head. She was older and would be one of the members that kept anyone from leaving after the Bloody Lover revealed herself. She knew the monster that had come hunting for blood that night.
Another pawn in the Master's game.
The torchlight illuminated her sweet smile but not her face and Endou shivered to see it.
Let the games begin, the creature inside her howled with joy.
The first challenger announced himself in a deep, cold voice. It was the brutish looking man with the dirty hair who had brought all six of his students with him. Shijou Morifusa, last prodigy of Nakagawa Tomotsune, the Blue Reaper.
According to Endou, he was a hefty challenger for the title and many expected him to take it.
It would be a pleasure to send him to join his mentor in the Lady's embrace, she thought, her smile sharpening.
Other announced themselves, naming themselves and their Master's some with embellished nicknames and some plain and unadorned.
All spoke until there was only the cloaked woman left unnamed and mysterious.
She said nothing, maneuvering yet another pawn into place.
"Who are you?" Shijou Morifusa called across the stage to her.
She took a deep breath and prayed a last prayer before answering.
"My name is inconsequential." She said and she watched many of those who had witnessed her last Dance stiffen in alarm.
"In order to challenge for the title, you must name yourself." The big man said menacingly.
The Bloody Lover's smile was heartbreakingly sweet. "If you wish, I will name myself." Her hand rose to the edges of her hood and pushed back till it fell, revealing her face and the flow of long blood red hair.
"When I first came here as a Priestess of the Dark Lady, I was known as the Bloody Lover and the Angel of Death, last pupil of Nagashima Hiro, the Viper King," Astonishment spread across the faces of everyone in the gathering and a very young student came forward to catch her cloak as she untied it, revealing her exotic clothing and bone handled blades. "But since I was thirteen years old I have been known as the Master of the Dance and I've come from death to reclaim my title."
The silence became deafening in the wake of her naming, turning to awestruck as many of the challengers bowed to her and walked off the stage. No one of Belarusian descent stayed to challenge her.
Several stayed though, including Shijou Morifusa, which thrilled the Lover down to her marrow.
Endou-sama bowed deeply to her.
"Whose challenge shall you accept first, Priestess?" He asked, another formality. It was like a play where everyone knew their parts, playing out like a drama to ensure that everything went as the Bloody Lover bid.
The red haired woman bound her hair on top of her skull in a tight bun and said the words that made her identity real.
"All of them."
Murmurs broke out here and there.
Those that remembered confirmed it. Those had been the words the Bloody Lover had given when asked who she wished to challenge five years ago. It was her!
Endou smiled in his beard and nodded in acknowledgment. "As you wish. Begin." He called, ringing the ceremonial bell.
Then it all happened at once.
Blades were drawn, silent and efficient, and the Lady's children began their worship.
It was the sweetest of homecomings.
The Bloody Lover did not pull her weapons yet, wanting to enjoy the show she was putting on. There had to be no doubt in anyone's mind that she was a true master of the deadly arts. They needed to fear her.
They surrounded her, nine of them, excluding Shijou who stood back and watched her.
His death would be her reward after she dealt with the others.
She could see it in their eyes, the acceptance and almost longing, for the Lady's embrace. By fighting her, they would show the Lady that they were worthy to be called her children.
Pace yourself, little dragon. Remember your basics.
It was like performing the Rigmar with a knife edge twist. She moved in a constant pattern, circles within circles. The circle of her guard, the circles of contact around her opponents, the circles her feet wove beneath her in perfect balance.
Ah, there it was. That feeling she had been missing since she fell from the cliff. The perfect balance of flesh and steel. The melting of body and soul into nothing but the Dance itself. The glorious fire that was the center of her whole being.
This was who she was.
Her opponents were no slouches either. They were assassins and blessed by the Lady as well. They had received much of the same training as her with quirks that she had to anticipate. These were no mere hack and slash soldiers, these were artists with a blade like herself.
It was thrilling to pit herself against them once more.
They attacked as a group, hoping to throw her off balance or force her to desperation. They must have forgotten the stories about her.
She toyed with them, pushing and pulling them to where she wanted. They got in each other's way, sometimes slicing a hand across from them or stepping on a foot and destroying the attack pattern.
It was all just another part in the Bloody Lover's play, another step in the Dance.
When they backed away to regain their balance, the Lover smiled that awful smile and drew a dagger from her thigh. She took two steps into one of the men's guard and shoved it between the fourth and fifth rib, putting a slight angle, slanted left to it to severe both ventricles in a single strike.
Perfect form, her Master murmured in her mind.
The assassin released his blade which clattered to the ground.
She looked into his hard hazel eyes, wide with shock and pain.
The Lover murmured a loving prayer, planting a kiss on his lips and then slid the dagger out of his chest and ran its razor edge across his throat, letting the red rain wash over her.
The man coughed a last plea to the Lady and fell to the ground smiling.
He had been kissed by the Angel of Death and she tasted of apples and blood.
Endou and the others in the crowd closed their eyes and called to the Lady of Blessed Night, who reached Her arms out and lovingly gathered Her son's soul to her arms. The stars seemed to flare for a moment before returning to their vigil.
The bloodletting had only just begun.
The others attacked once more, galvanized by the joyous howling of the Lady in their hearts.
It was a pleasure to fight and die at the hand of such an artist as the Angel of Death, who stowed her dagger and pulled her curved short swords from her lower back, baring her teeth in challenge.
Who would be next to taste her steel kiss?
The remaining challengers no longer fought as a group. It seemed one by one they stepped forward to dance with Death herself.
And one by one, they came to receive her kiss like a bloody sacrament before falling to the ground. They loved her for it, tasting apples and peace.
The bodies at her feet showcased various forms of execution, all exquisitely done.
The men and women present were in awe of her ability, even those who had witnessed her first Dance. Her skills over the years had improved, her controlled ferocity undiminished by her apparent demise.
No one else had ever kissed her victims before hand delivering them to the Lady. It was no wonder they called her the Bloody Lover. Perhaps she did love them all, just a tiny bit.
And she was merciful. Her strikes were quick and relatively painless. Her brave challengers did not suffer. The stars flared as each soul was gathered into the Dark Lady's loving arms.
One by one, they all fell to her till only Shijou Morifusa stood against her, arms crossed and stone faced. She could read the smoldering resentment and distaste in his dark brown eyes.
He glanced at his students who all stared at her with challenge and heat in their eyes. They weren't ready to face the Bloody Lover but Shijou supposed that no one would be and his students were strong and chomping at this bit.
So when it seemed like the Angel of Death would lower her blades, he gave a subtle nod to his student's. Lady be damned, he wouldn't let a little eighteen year old girl become Master. She was dead to the world already, might as well send her on her way sooner rather than later.
At his command, the six young men gripped their swords and ran onto the stage, encircling the blood covered woman.
Endou stepped up to reprimand Shijou for breaking the rules of the Dance, but the Bloody Lover silenced him with a look. She could feel their hunger beating against her senses, entwining with the latent power that lay in her lower belly, a gift and a curse from her savior, her masked man. It sharpened her hunger and she wanted to scream with joy and pain.
The largest of the students leered at her.
"I wonder what you would look like on your back with your legs tied apart. I wonder how loud you would scream for me." He said, taunting and teasing with a hint of truth. He did wonder and because he wondered, the Bloody Lover threw mercy away as easily as an apple core.
She moved so fast.
A blade went through his right foot, pinning him to the stage. He howled in pain and outrage, swearing at her fiercely but it was soon lost in the terrible sound of blade separating muscle, fat and bone.
"I wonder how you'll scream." She asked, purring.
His top half slid sideways, off his bottom half, falling to the blood soaked stage with a meaty thump.
He couldn't stop screaming. Laying on his back, the young man tried to push his organs back into her abdomen, but the kept sliding out in a disgusting pile. She had cut his spine right in half, directly between two vertebrae. Even her Master would have been hard put to make a cut like that.
She yanked the dagger from his limp foot and smiled down on him.
He screams rose in volume and pitch until the Bloody Lover's booted foot came down in a mighty stomp and crushed his skull in through his face.
Brains oozed from between shards of bones and the Bloody Lover wrinkled her nose in disgust. The stars did not flare for this one. The Lady rejected him.
The Lady rejected all of Shijou Morofusa's students as they fell in various states of agony. One young man who had gazed far too long at the Lover's voluptuous breasts as they bounced with her movements, had his eyes gouged from his face while the Lover choked the life from him.
She cut off hands and legs, sliced tongues from mouths giving those faces wide bloody smiles from ear to ear. One man, already missing several limbs, she finally decapitated as she grew tired of his crying.
For all the disgusting cruelty, she was still so graceful, still so perfect in her destruction.
Finally, the Bloody Lover stood on a mountain of bodies, the stench of shit, blood, and offal in the air. Many of the crowd were on their knees, hands clasped in prayer.
She pointed her katana at Shijou Morofusa and condemned him.
"You are a disgrace to the Dance," she said, her voice holding an echo of the divine.
Shijou spat at her, onto the bodies of one of his students. "Death's Whore."
The Bloody Lover chuckled. "More like Mistress than Whore."
The Lady of Blessed Night, arms full from holding Her Children, reached down and gripped Her daughter's soul. Her Weapon.
Kill him, She screamed.
"As the Lady commands, Her daughter obeys." The Lover murmured in Belarusian before Shijou charged her, wild with fury and fear. His death would not be gentle.
The Angel of Death was nothing more than a conduit of her Lady's power. The pain of her injuries evaporated as she completed her homage in the most brutal fashion she could imagine.
He was much taller than her which made everything simple.
It was easy to dodge his sword, batting it aside like a child's toy.
It was easy to slice up his arms and legs like a filleted fish.
It was easy to slit his belly open just wide enough for her small hand to reach in.
The inside of his belly was hot and slippery but the Bloody Lover had the fiercest grip as she pulled out his small intestines. With a quick step and a practiced flourish of her hand, she kicked Shijou Morofusa to his knees and looped the noose around his throat.
Eyes watched with horror and fascination as the Bloody Lover put her right foot in the man's back and pushed forward while she pulled the noose of pinkish grey intestines tight.
Leaning off the stage on his knees, his guts pouring out of his slit belly to the ground below, Shijou groped at the slippery noose, his eyes bulging and mouth open. He could taste the death that hung in the air and his mind screamed at the atrocity of his death.
He was being strangled with his own gut as he bled out.
"Bear witness to this last Dance! This last offering to the Lady of Blessed Night!" The Bloody Lover cried wildly, eyes shining with goddess born madness.
Her grip began to slip so she wrapped the intestine around her wrist and pressed her foot harder into Shijou's back. The man choked and gurgled, face turning purple, trying to find some air in his lungs.
He struggled hard against the impending darkness that came to claim him but it was all too much and everything began to fade. All he had left was his regret. Regret that he had ever thought to challenge the evil creature that the Lady had sent down upon them.
Fuck that bitch, he thought, not sure if he was referring to the goddess or Her daughter.
When his body finally stopped twitching, the gathering grounds were once again silent.
She waited a moment more to be sure, then the Bloody Lover left the dead man's body fall face first into the dirt. She knelt down and wiped her hands on his clothes and stood up, breathing heavily, covered in blood from the crown of her head down to her boots.
Then the remaining members of the Dance bowed deeply.
"Hail Lady, full of Grace, blessed be thy name. We, Your children, thank you for bearing witness to Your worship and pray that those who fell honorably tonight will find solace and peace in Your embrace as you bear them gently away." The Bloody Lover intoned over the corpses of her challengers and her victims.
The assassins present felt Her smile in their souls and Her final caress before She ascended, carrying the souls of her fallen children up and away to her dark paradise.
A sigh went around the gathering and all eyes turned to look at the Angel of Death, who wiped all her blades clean and sheathed them in utter fluidity.
She looked to Endou-sama, who watched her carefully.
"Who am I?" She asked, her voice calm.
"The Lady had chosen. You are the Master of the Dance, Priestess." He said, folding his hands and bowing once more to her. No one said any word against it. They had all borne witness to a Dance that would always be remembered.
She nodded and looked out at the crowd.
"You." She said, pointed a bloody finger at the two brothers from Belarusia. "When people ask of me, what will you tell them?"
The two looked at each other, confused and slightly afraid.
"We will tell of a young woman of red hair and blue eyes that came and -"
"No," She said sternly, "I have brown hair and green eyes." She said. The two brothers were now very confused.
"What about you?" She said pointing at a willowy woman from Xing Kingdom. She opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure of how to answer.
"You will say that I have blonde hair and brown eyes."
Interested smiles grew on the faces around her.
She looked at the one handed woman who smiled wolfishly.
"You have black hair and jade green eyes." The woman's craggy voice was laced with undisguised glee. The Bloody Lover smiled in acknowledgment, alluding to her beloved Master.
Other's began calling out random descriptions. Anything but red hair and blue eyes. Some gave her skin dark as chocolate, hair that curled in tight corkscrews, on and on.
"Indeed, my brothers and sisters. Let us play a game with the minds of all the lands. I am everyone and no one. Let no one know exactly who I am and if those who wish to catch me try, let them chase an apparition while I hunt more exciting prey."
Her predatory smile was matched by the remaining assassins who all thought this would be an interesting game to play.
"Now go and let us begin. We shall give them a chase to go down in the history books." They all bowed and quietly exited the gathering area, as the ash men came to collect the bodies from the stage.
Only the boy with the pale blond hair remained, still transfixed by her.
The pain her her lower belly roared and she stepped off the stage towards him.
Endou-sama watched with amusement as the Master of the Dance approached the young man and whispered something in his ear.
Then she was gone, into the night, leaving only a patch of blood on the boy's cheek.
The boy touched it wonderingly and gazed after her.
Endou sighed and directed the ash men in their collection.
Ah, to be young again.
Back in her room, the Lover washed the last of the blood from her body, allowing the servants to take away the brown water. Already her clothes were being treated and her bed was prepared.
Endou had not spared any expense for her, especially after the ordeal she had just put herself through. She wasn't tired though. Just the opposite. Energy burned through her abused body mercilessly.
Clean and sore muscled, she laid down and allowed a silent masseuse to work some of the tension from her. All the servants, including this one, were paid well and quietly threatened to keep their silence.
The Master would be well taken care of, at least for the rest of the night.
She had ensured it.
When the discrete knock came, the masseuse quickly finished her work and left.
The young man was escorted into the dimly lit room where he stood half confident, half uncertain.
When she rose from her bed, entirely naked but for her talisman, she watched his lovely green eyes widen in appreciation for her lush body then he quickly looked away for fear of offending her.
She sauntered across the sumptuous carpet till she put a finger on his chin and forced him to look into her eyes.
"What is your name?" She asked, trailing a finger down the column of his neck.
"Miyake Naomoro, of the Tenshin Province." The Lover nodded and smile one of those unbearably sweet smiles.
"Are you afraid of me, Naomoro?" The boy's brain seemed to have melted when he watched her move. "Yes, Lady."
Her smile turned wicked. "Good."
He lifted a hair and ran it through her now dry hair, marveling at the weight of it, at its softness. It was hard to believe that the human firestorm that had just slaughter two dozen men in a show could be so soft. So sweet smelling. So desirable.
"What do you wish of me, Lady?"
Hypnotizing blue eyes locked with his. "Love me, Naomoro, for a few hours."
His heart agreed immediately and she kissed his neck ever so carefully.
Lust unstrung out between them and he gripped her upper arms tightly.
His lips descended towards hers, wanting a taste of what those men had gotten before they died.
"What should I call you, my Queen?" He breathed as she slipped his shirt from his shoulders.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the power in her lower belly surge in anticipation as she pressed her whole body against his.
She whispered before their lips met and the world fell away in a storm of tangled flesh and pleasure.
"Don't call me anything tonight but Master."