Read Savior (An Impossible Novel) Online
Authors: Julia Sykes
Just those two simple words were enough to make me rock hard for her. My hands were on her thighs, skimming along them as I slowly pushed her dress up to her waist. When I dipped my fingers between her legs, I was pleased to find that she was already soaking wet for me.
God, she was hotter than any fantasy I could have ever dreamed up even on my kinkiest day.
I pulled away from her, making her wait as I slowly freed myself from my slacks and put on a condom. I had to stifle a groan at the sight of her licking her lips as she watched me hungrily.
“Tell your Master what you want him to do to your body,” I ordered roughly, my iron control slipping at the sight of her laid out before me, her pale skin and platinum hair practically glowing in the starlight.
Her head dropped back and she closed her eyes as she moaned at my crude words. “I want you to bend me over this table and fuck me hard from behind. I want you to use my body for your own pleasure. Please, Master…” She ground her hips up against nothing, her body instinctively seeking some way to release the need I awoke within her.
My need was just as strong, and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.
I gripped her by the waist and roughly turned her onto her front. My fingers tangled in her long, silken hair, and I pulled back sharply. The way her back arched pushed her ass up to me like an offering. Keeping my hold on her hair, I wrapped my other arm around her waist, jerking her body back into me so that she was impaled on my cock.
Her strangled cry tore through the trees around us, filling the peaceful silence with the sound of her raw lust. I
took her harshly, demanding she give me her pleasure with every punishing thrust. She ceded it eagerly, and I could feel her inner walls begin to flutter around me as she neared her orgasm.
I tugged on her hair, reminding her of my complete control of her body. “Not yet,” I ground out. “Wait for me.”
I loved the sound of her desperate whine. It let me know how badly she wanted me and how determined she was to obey me. It was her submission that pushed me over the edge.
“Come with me, Rose!” I ordered harshly as my own pleasure took me.
She followed me immediately, her orgasm all the more powerful for me making her wait. The way her core gripped my cock heightened the intensity of my release, and I threw my head back and bellowed as I reached my completion.
I waited until her final little ecstatic shudders subsided before withdrawing from her and settling down beside her on the table. I gathered her body up in my arms and draped her across me, idly stroking my hand up and down her back. We stayed there for long minutes, basking in the joy of holding one another.
There was something I had been wanting to ask her, and I decided this was the right moment. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box. Rose’s eyes widened when she saw it, and I thought I saw a hint of fear flash in their depths. I offered it to her, but she just stared at it, shaking her head slightly.
“Clayton, I…”
“Open it,” I ordered.
She took the box with shaking fingers, swallowing hard as she flipped back the lid. When she saw what was inside, her brows drew together in confusion.
“I know you practically already live at my apartment, Rose,” I said, “but I thought it was time we made it official. Will you move in with me?”
She brushed her fingertips over the key and then giggled. “Oh, thank god,” she said, her relief evident in her tone. “I thought you were going to ask me to marry you.”
I gave her my most dramatic affronted look. “I’m insulted you would think me incapable of coming up with a better proposal than that. I didn’t even get down on one knee.” Then a hint of true discomfort slipped into my expression. I frowned slightly as I reached out to cup her delicate face in my hand. “But I have to say I’m a little hurt to see you so relieved. Is the thought of marrying me really all that terrible?”
She pressed her palm against the back of my hand, holding it there so that she could lean her cheek into my touch. “Of course not,” she said softly. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I’ve only just started school, and I want to be successful in my own right before we get married.”
I smiled at her, reassured. “I guess I’ll have to re-schedule that proposal I had planned for next weekend then,” I teased.
She laughed. “I’d mark your calendar for about two years from now.”
“It’s a date,” I agreed firmly. I wasn’t joking in the slightest. I gestured to the little box she was still holding. “That key won’t burn you, you know. I promise it’s safe to take it.”
Grinning, she snapped
the box closed and pushed it back into my pocket. “I didn’t design this dress with any hidey-holes for storing away personal items,” she told me flippantly.
“You should think about that next time,” I said in mock-seriousness.
“But that key is mine,” she declared fervently. “You’re just holding onto it for me right now.”
“I don’t mind that one bit,” I said, lust beginning to color my tone. “If I’m holding onto it, then you can’t leave my side.”
Her pupils dilated, and her voice turned low and breathy. “That sounds good to me. Screw the dress-pocket idea. I’ll take any excuse I can get to keep you with me.”
“A wedding ring would really tie me to you, you know. I wouldn’t be able to escape you then.” I gave her a wolfish smile, letting her know that
she
was the one who had no hope of escaping
me.
“Two years,” she reiterated, but her husky t
one didn’t hold the resolve it had before.
I lowered my face to hers so
our lips were almost touching. Her warm breath played across my skin in little short, shallow gasps. “I have no problem waiting,” I told her. “You’ve already given yourself to me. I own you, little sub, and that is one bond I am never releasing you from.”
Her fingers curled into my shoulders as she held me tightly to her. “I wouldn’t let you, Master,” she declared softly.
I pressed my lips to hers, licking and nipping at them until she opened for me, a physical demonstration of her promise of everlasting submission. And the harsh, possessive thrusts of my tongue as I claimed her mouth communicated my own devotion to her.
Rose Baker was mine, and I was never going to let her go.
The End
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Check out the next book in the
Impossible
series,
Knight
(An
Impossible
Novel)
A woman shattered…
Abducted.
He took me and broke me.
I was his plaything, his possession.
If I did ever have a name, I don’t remember it now.
Slaves don't have names.
A savior’s obsession…
My new Master stole me away from the man who tormented me. He saved me and took me for himself. His touch keeps me sane. His control keeps me grounded in reality. He demands that I piece the shards of myself back together.
But I don’t want to be myself again. I want to be
his.
I’ve found my salvation in his obsession, my freedom in his captivity.
Will his brand of rescue leave me more broken than ever?
Excerpt
I used to think pain wasn’t real.
At least, not in the sense of being a tangible thing. It was just the result of my primal brain’s in-built response to inform me that damage was being inflicted on my body. If I trusted the person who was giving me pain, then I knew he wasn’t going to damage me. If I understood my pain, it stopped being something to fear and became something… interesting. I could master the hurt and ride the high of the adrenaline that flooded my system. I could enter subspace, that gloriously blank place where nothing existed but the sweet endorphins released by the pain that I embraced.
But then He came along and turned that all on its head. He enjoyed administering pain to torture, not to pleasure. And I couldn’t trust Him not to inflict damage. He claimed He didn’t like it when I forced Him to damage me; He didn’t want to mar his property. But that didn’t mean He wasn’t willing to do so in order to get what He wanted.
I had tried to fight the pain for so long, to hold on to my conviction that it wasn’t real. It couldn’t hurt me if I didn’t let it. But He gave me so much that it overwhelmed me, claiming all of my senses until my whole world was agony. I was perpetually trapped in some twisted, inverted form of subspace where nothing existed but the pain, but it gave me no pleasure.
My only reprieve was the sweet reward that came with the merciful sting of a needle. If I was good, if I obeyed and screamed prettily enough, then He would give me my reward. I lived for it; that was the only time I
was
alive.
But I had become so dependent on it that now the denial of my reward was just as terrible as the agony He gave me. It had been so long since I had gotten my last fix.
Tonight, Master was testing me. He wanted to see just how obedient I was. He wanted the satisfaction of seeing just how thoroughly He had broken me.
I
was broken. And I didn’t even care. All I cared about was my reward. Right now, my need for it was so acute that my insides were twisting and my skin was on fire. I was desperate to give Him whatever He wanted so I could get my fix. If He hadn’t ordered me to stand in the corner quietly and wait for Him to return, then I would have been curled up on the floor sobbing.
But I wasn’t ensconced in the stark loneliness of the pitch black dungeon that had become my home, and I didn’t have the luxury of going to pieces. His order for my silence denied me even the right to voice my agony. He had brought me out in public for the first time, and I recognized the place where He had brought me as a BDSM club. He would be able to torment me here in front of dozens of strangers, and no one would stop Him.
The thought of shouting out a safe word or screaming for help didn’t even cross my mind. All I could think about was when He would come back and doing my best to please Him so that He would grant me my reprieve. He had been gone for so long, and I was starting to panic.
And now a strange man was talking to me, threatening to hurt me if I didn’t tell him my name. But
I didn’t have a name. If I did ever have a name, I didn’t remember it now. I was a slave, and slaves don’t have names.
Check out the novellas that started it all in
Impossible: The Original Trilogy
(Monster, Traitor, and Avenger)
My life was irrevocably changed that night. The night I was taken. I saved a man's life, but at what cost to myself? Can I convince him to save me in return?
I hate him for what he’s done to me. But the longer I’m trapped with him, the harder it is to cling to that hatred. He is an enigma of a man, one who is shockingly arrogant, sweetly contrite, and frighteningly aggressive by turns. And the pain in his eyes is a mirror for my own.
The longer I remain in his grip, the more confused I become.
Is my freedom worth betraying him?
Also by Julia Sykes
The
Original
Impossible Trilogy
Monster
Traitor
Avenger
Impossible: The Original Trilogy
Angel
(A Companion Book to
Monster)
The
Impossible
Novels
Savior
(An
Impossible
Novel)
Knight
(An
Impossible
Novel)
Mentor
(An
Impossible
Novella)
Rogue
(An
Impossible
Novel)
(Coming Soon!)
Dark Grove Plantation (The Complete Collection)
Connect with Julia!