Enamoured (The Enslaved Duet 2)

My moan wrecked the passage of my throat, raw and rumbling. “Yes, Master.”

“Such sweet words on your filthy lips,” he praised, pinching my chin to tip my head up so he could bite, then lick at my mouth. He tasted of heat, slightly metallic and rich like the warmth after swallowing certain spices. I wanted to luxuriate in that hot cavern, moan into it as he fucked his tongue over mine, but he pulled away with one last searing suck, and my mouth went suddenly cold, tingling from the abuse.

“You need your Master between these pretty red thighs?” he asked coolly.

Yes, yes, yes, I chanted and moaned and pleaded.

He asked me again. Slapped me again just over my clit. Plucked at my nipples relentlessly until they felt like forged iron, hot and torturous on my chest.

“You want me to fuck you in front of everyone, in front of anyone I chose?” he asked as he squeezed the thick, mouth-watering length of the erection tenting his slacks.

I licked the drool from the corner of my mouth. “Yes, Master.”

“Tell me why, little mouse.”

I knew what he wanted, not just because I was a good slave, but because I’d been in love with the man. I knew he wanted more than just my body at that moment, but I rebelled against giving him the rest. I didn’t know his plan, what he would do with my capitulation and my heart if I granted them to him.

Smack.

Another slap made my pussy convulse around the girth of the toy inside me almost painfully. My clit throbbed so strongly, I was afraid I would come just like that, shattering on the sharp edge of his meanness like ceramic thrown to the floor.

I whimpered loudly as he wrenched the plastic cock from my cunt and tossed it to the floor, leaving my hips churning restlessly over the empty air.

“Tell me, wife,” he ordered darkly, stepping into my body with his thigh against my sex so that the material scraped over my raw nerves like a match to a striking board. “I’ve waited five years to hear you say it, and I won’t wait a moment longer. Give me what we both need to hear you say.”

His eyes were silver mirrors duplicating the desperation and longing I felt reflected in my own. A whine leaked from my parted lips.

“Tell me, little mouse,” he repeated, his eyes hooks drawing me into him inexorably, dragging me through his wake until I was caught up in his net.

“Because I want everyone to see that I belong to you,” I said, not a whisper or a roar, but a statement that moved through my body like a spiritual awakening.

“Yes,” Alexander hissed, unbuttoning his trousers, unzipping, and then—I gasped because I was so far gone to him—his gorgeous, weeping cock. “You belong to me.”

And then he stepped up with his cock grasped almost violently in his fist, the other hand clamping down over my hip, and he surged inside me in one long, searing thrust.

I screamed at the ceiling as my head threw back and my pussy detonated in an orgasm so strong, I saw stars dance against the top of the club. He fucked me hard, pounding into my spanked and swollen cunt proprietarily, uncaring of my pleasure in his entitled quest for his own climax. It only proved to send me higher, and when he sank his teeth into my neck, holding me there as he fucked me like an animal breeding its mate, I came again, screaming my throat raw as he claimed me.

When he came moments later, it was with a roar, the beast at the heart of him exposed for me to see and feel against me. I loved the thrill of it, of fucking a man so much like a dangerous animal, of being bound up by his orders and tied down to his mercy.

My mind was lost to the plush, velvety texture of quiet that followed a spectacular orgasm, but I was distantly aware of Alexander pulling out, his semen and my wetness leaking obscenely down my thigh. Then he did as he’d once done after fucking me in the poppy field at Pearl Hall, he smeared our combined juices into my achy, distended cunt all the way back over my asshole and up onto the bare skin of my pubis. I gasped as he smoothed the last of the dampness against my lips and then swooped in to kiss it brutally off my mouth.

He turned to the audience after tucking his wet, half-hard length back into his trousers, his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed as he idly demanded, “Well?”

A man stood up, adjusted his erection in his suit pants, and said, “There are still more pairings to exhibit…”

Alexander condescended to giving the man one of his patented arch looks.