Master Over You: A Dark Romance Novel
by Cerys du Lys, Ethan Winters
Publication date: October 20th 2014
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
There’s a monster in every closet, and I’m in yours
My name is Noah. I’m not a nice person. This isn’t cupcakes and candyland, love.
I’ll take you, break you, and offer you to the highest bidder without a second thought. You’re mine now. It’s business, nothing personal. You wouldn’t understand, and I’m not going to explain it. Sorry, love, you don’t mean a thing to me.
Just know that there’s a monster in every closet, and I’m in yours.
Author Note – This dark romance novel contains themes that may be discomforting to some people. If you are sensitive to depictions of violence, then this book is not recommended for you.
(Ethan Winters official debut release co-authored with USA Today bestselling author Cerys du Lys)
Man’s POV = Ethan, Woman’s POV = Cerys
There is a light at the end of every dark tunnel, no matter how dim it may seem.
No, Angeline. I tell myself this, and I know it is true. Noah is responsible for his actions, but he is not responsible for the actions of others. He must accept punishment and I shall mete out what he deserves, but nothing more. Nor less.
I slam his head hard against the wall, careful not to crack his skull. His eyes roll, disoriented and glossing over. I do it again. Just twice, no more. That is enough. I want his blood, though. I like it.
While he cannot think or move, I pull out his lip and suck on it like a child with a sweet. I stare into his eyes, watching him drift between trying to fight back and lose himself to unconsciousness. He has almost lost, and then he fights, but it is not with a will of his own. He struggles against me, mind rattled, and I bite down on his lip like I did before, but harder now.
I taste him, and revel in it. His blood drips from my lip to my chest, painting the bodice of my dress and my breasts with a lustrous, ruddy red. It is the color of expensive wine and fragrant roses. It is his gift to me.
Why, thank you, Noah. You are sweet. This is a kind present.
I smile at him, but he has no idea. I wish my smile was genuine, but it is too difficult for me. Soon, though. Yes.
I slam the heel of my hand into the apex of his ribs and he gasps and wheezes as every ounce of breath leaves his body. Then I squeeze him close to me, wrapping my arms around him and embracing him. He cannot struggle, he does not have the energy to. His mind is still reeling and he barely has enough air to live.
He will live, though. I know this. Breathe, Noah, I implore him, staring past his eyes and into his soul. For me, please? I will love you, I will try, if only you continue to exist and to breathe.
His lip is still bleeding. Droplets shiver and quake on the outskirts of his mouth, as he struggles to try and live, to survive. It is hard. I know this. Life is hard. And then why do we continue to live it? Why not end our own suffering?
I do not know. That is hard, too. Sometimes it is easier to suffer than to die. I think it is because of hope. You do not have hope once you are dead, because you do not have anything. Who is to say that dying is less painful than living? We do not know. We will never know.
His blood smears my cheeks as I hold him. Tiny little beads of his life’s essence, like perfect garnets, fall onto my white dress, leaving drops of red. The red spreads, further and further. I suck on his lip and drink from him while he continues to try and breath. I feel his ragged breath tickling my nose as he gasps and heaves, throat wracked by spasmic coughing, fighting against suffocation.
I kiss him gently and give him some of my own breath. I help him. Breathe for me, Noah. You are so sweet. Breathe. Accept my gift as I have accepted yours. Is my breath as sweet as your blood?
He does. He breathes now, and his body slumps in his shackles, becoming calm. He must feel a lot of pain. I feel sorry for him. I am sorry, Noah.
I reach for his hand and hold it in mine, measuring the length of his fingers against my own. His hand is bigger, mine would fit easily within his if we were to hold hands and walk together along the sand at a beach during sunset. I would like that. I would enjoy the sound of the ocean at one side of me, with the bright purples, soft reds, and hints of devious orange painting the sky with cozy perfection.
I am not responsible for anyone else’s actions. They must deal with their own consequences.
Cerys is a USA Today Bestselling Author. She has charted on numerous best sellers and hot new release lists internationally and with multiple books.
Ethan is a gentleman, an author, a lover, and occasionally a rake, a cad, and a dom, but only if you’ve been good (punishing good girls is more entertaining than punishing the naughty ones). He lives in the Greater Boston area in a small town in New Hampshire where he grew up.
He has a penchant for exploring and traveling, with a passion for the unique and interesting. His interests include reading, exercising, laying on the beach, spanking (good girls), romancing, smiling, going for walks that lead to nowhere, hiking, bondage, and one day he would love to travel to Alaska.
His writing delves into the human experience, with a preference towards a psychological thriller twist. He loves mystery, dark romance, and suspense. While some of his writing may be twisted, he believes in romantic true love, above all things. His books include raw, real emotions, good and bad. He believes there is a light at the end of every dark tunnel, and his writing hopes to encompass that.
He loves happy endings, kissing, and a focus on the ordinary turned extraordinary.