Novel & Cerita Master Of Knife

Arya knew she couldn’t say the truth, that she bought it to embarrass the butler. “I wanted to look pretty for you Master.” Arya blushed, she felt so embarrassed. Her master smiled slightly, he looked pleased. “I will reward you my little Omega for trying to please me. Sit on the chair.” He pointed at his comfortable chair and as soon as she sat down he spread her legs and placed them on the armrest. That position made Arya feel ashamed, her Master placed himself between her legs. Arya was so shocked that she closed her eyes and concentrated on Masers touching the inner part of her tights. One of his fingers slid under the delicate fabric of her panties and it was pulled aside revealing her

That was when everyone noticed the star blade in her hand with blood dripping from it. She had sliced Grandmaster's thigh. Everyone was bamboozled. They least expected her to do something like that. Grandmaster held his hand over his thigh to control the bleeding. "Get me a first aid kit!" She ordered. What a strange request to make, but no dared voiced it out. Brantley rushed to fetch the kit__it was his house after all. "Oh, I won't kill you, not yet." Mila leaned down over a crouched Grandmaster and whispered with a smile….a deadly smile.

"I like this rebellious side of you. I was starting to think you're dim-witted." "She won't kill you." He added when I remained unwaveringly quiet. "If you love her why are you doing this? Why do you white men do this? I don't understand. I'm disgusting, you constantly tell me that. I know, Mast—" He glared at me. I wouldn't dare say his name. I wouldn't. He will forever be Master William to me. "I know I'm disgusting but why do you keep doing this. I suppose it's some sort of fun sport for you all."

Master applies the healing cream to the cuts and bruises that are still taking too long to heal and then takes me to bed, holding me tight until I relax and drift off to sleep. We do this for the next few evenings. I wake up shivering in the Master's arms, reliving in my dreams not only the Master's attack but Morgan's and Norman's as well. It, however, doesn’t take the Master long to remove the memory of them and replace it with pleasure, which is getting more intense and harder to deny each time he touches me.

"I can. I am the Vampire Master, and this fool has done a wrong to me. He shall receive the punishment of death. Now leave!" Not waiting for any further protest from her, I slowly swing the man around; I want him to watch me in the eyes as I rip his throat to pieces. I want to show him what a monster I am. With my right hand, I yank his head to the side, exposing my fangs; I slice his skin open in shreds. His agonizing cries fill the silent air of the night. "Please stop," he pleads. "Nothing happened. We did not do anything."

He leaned down to fondle my breasts, his other hand palming my thigh. I felt absolutely disgusted. Master was about to kiss me, but I discreetly tilted my head, making his lips land on my cheek. He fumbled to remove his jeans while kneeling down. I decided to take my chance and stabbed him in the neck with the dagger. Blood spurted out, splattering over the thin cloth I wore. Master gasped and his hands went to his neck. "D-dear... Xa... Nthe?" Adrenaline was rushing down my veins.

He laughs to himself because someone should really award him for having the strongest self-control even at this new scenario they are experiencing. “M-Master Cross.” That sounded divine to him. He loved that. “Kneel on the floor instead, Ronan.” The doctor was too quick to follow him and seeing him like that pleases him. Ronan is a beautiful man kneeling for him like that. Standing up, he walks in front of Ronan and just like what he expected, his manhood is better face-to-face to the guy. “Suck me, Ronan.”

I tried blurring to him but my sensitive nostrils picked up a sweet smell of blood. Even in my wounded state, I wanted a taste of that mouth-watering blood. Ignoring the hunter, I followed the smell of the blood and found myself back in my kitchen with Tammy on her knees, blood dripping from a fresh cut on her palm, and a bloody knife on the ground.

“I need to air out, too. Let me have a little fun here, can’t I?” I should have killed him. But I didn’t. For Master. “Wait for me to be out. I’ll head back to the cabin.” He grinned, flashing his braced teeth as a crimson thought expanded from his temple. Forming his fingers into mock knives, he added, “Tell the rest I’ll be right back.” The door clicked shut behind me. The moment it did, the sound of slicing steel tore through the air—shrieks of metal and flesh colliding. The chaotic noise almost reached our cabin by the time I returned to grab some coffee.

There, standing in front of the massive prep island, was Marcello. My eyes fell on his wide muscle-packed back, and my breath caught in my throat. His crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the fabric straining tight against the width of his shoulders and the hard muscles of his back. His sleeves were rolled up tightly to his elbows, exposing his thick, corded forearm. The terrifying head of the city's mafia was holding a professional chef’s knife, meticulously slicing fresh vegetables on a heavy wooden cutting board. He moved with an easy, quiet confidence, his focus locked on the food in front of him as the blade glided effortlessly through red bell peppers, onions, and herb