The Dark Under Light (Book #2 Masters of the Dark Series)

THINK ABOUT IT

Emily Vargas was trying to catch her breath after running wildly upstairs with the intention of hiding behind the door of her apartment on Capitol Hill. Richard Thorn had turned out to be a man of many talents, including making her uncomfortable and taking her breath away just by looking at her. Perhaps she could no longer think clearly, perhaps she had lost all reason and what she needed was a stroke of absolute reality.

Emily slid to the floor, her head spinning in neon-colored spirals. Each twist was a concern added to her already troubled attraction to her patient. What were the chances that something bad would happen to her again? She did not know. Emily began to cry without realizing it, the tears wetting her cheeks causing the makeup on her face to be cut off. The crying increased as she remembered that the rain sure had ruined her makeup the moment she got out of the limo. Richard tried to walk her to her door, but she politely declined. He found her reaction to him entertaining, so before leaving he cornered her near the lobby entrance and planted a fleeting kiss on her throat. When Emily remained motionless and unresponsive, he moved away a little to read her, realizing that Emily was deeply terrified. "See you on Monday, doctor." Richard muttered - a grim expression dominated his face. As soon as he backed away, she rushed to escape and now, she is here; crying for not knowing how to react at his advances.

It was not the first time that a patient had tried to get close to her to get to know her and see her as an ordinary woman. The only time something like this had happened was two years ago. Emily had been treating a banker for months who never lost the chance to tell her she was gorgeous, he suffered from disturbing problems. The traumas of his childhood had led him to use drugs, participate in street fights, hurt himself, among other things. Emily felt that they were really making progress and that was until one day she gave Sidney permission to leave early. Emily thought that she could also close the office earlier but before leaving, the banker asked for a last-minute session and she had to agree. Sadly, Emily's night turned into a nightmare when the banker dared to slap her when she refused to kiss him after he asked her as soon as he arrived at the office. Emily tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen, needless to say, he beat her until she almost fell unconscious and then proceeded to r**e her. He would have killed her had it not been for the security guard on duty, who struck the banker with his baton.

Emily no longer let fear consume her. She told herself after much therapy and sleepless nights that she would be fine and nothing and no one would ever hurt her again. Eventually she started dating and felt comfortable in her own skin however their relationships did not last long as the lack of s*x bored the men she dated and sooner or later they ended up leaving her. s*x disgusted her after what happened to her and she only found release under her own hand. What would become of her then? She would live forever as a spinster watching the world indulge in the little pleasures in life. Emily ended up recognizing that the best thing she could do was to transfer Richard to another doctor so that she would feel at peace. She wanted to hide her head underground and never get out of there again. She would have to let Richard know on Monday morning. What if he became violent like that banker? She couldn't bear to go through something as terrifying as that again. Emily would die if her life turned violent overnight. For now, the only thing she could do was clean her face and continue taking a bath to feel better. Emily undressed and walked lazily to the bathroom in her bedroom.

As Emily became a raisin in the bathtub, she began to imagine all the things she could do if s*x didn't displease her. In all the men she could sleep with if she weren't a chicken. The irony of it all was that she was the one with therapies to fix people. Life is a joke and I am the star clown.

When she decided she was wrinkled enough, she got out of the tub and drained the water. While she dried herself, Emily stood in front of the potted mirror at the back of the door and studied herself. She didn't consider herself particularly hot, but she knew she had something that some men looked for and that was self-assurance. Or at least that's what she appeared to have. She touched her breasts and lifted them slightly, feeling the weight on her palms. Then she ran her hands down her accentuated waist and broad hips. Then she turned from one side to the other to look for any trace of cellulite on her legs, to her deep sadness Emily actually had cellulite and although it was completely normal for women, she couldn't help but feel unattractive.

There was something about seeing yourself in the mirror that added something to your perception of yourself. Emily shrugged and left the bathroom feeling better and told herself that everything would be fine.

--

Richard found himself losing himself to Leah’s cries of pleasure and shame as he flogged her from behind. He had chained Leah to the dungeon wall, her arms outstretched, and legs spread apart to allow him easy access. Leah's back and buttocks had turned deliciously red, acquiring faint marks from each bite the flogger left behind. He loved seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so easy to break.

“Tell me about Emily Vargas.” He commanded stepping forward to deliver a hard slap against her opening, Leah buckled in her bonds and yelped from the surprise of being teased like that. “I asked a question, slave.” He smacked her again, then delved two fingers into her dripping p***y and began to fucker slow and easy with them.

“What would you like to know, sir?” she groaned when he added a third finger then reached around her to pull at her n****e.

“Anything I can use.” Richard withrew his fingers from Leah’s cunt and went to fetch his favorite rattan cane. “I’m feeling merciful tonight, so you will only get ten.” He began to rain strike after strike on her thighs, just below the subtle curve of her ass. Leah knew better than to scream and beg for him to stop. Before he could break the skin, he stopped and thrust into her. “Does she like flowers?”